#i guess i could make a really short playlist but that feels like cheating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

Text

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖ — chapter summary: Now that Zeke has explained what truly happened with Yelena, all your troubles have finally ended. Except that now you need to start avoiding Porco. However, things change once you overhear a conversation in the woman's bathroom.

✖ — pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖ — chapter tags/warnings: college au, descriptions of panic attacks, lots of self-doubt, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating.

✖ — a/n: i have posted the playlist that goes with this series! click here to check this post <3

chapter three: me and my husband

Porco looked at his cellphone, an ill sensation filling up his stomach as he read over and over your last messages. For the past few days, he had been trying to reach out to you but he had been rejected every time.

He knew something wrong was going on the moment you said you couldn’t make it to his lacrosse game. Ever since you became friends, you hadn’t missed a single game. He had once seen you finishing an essay on your phone and sending it while you were sitting on the bleachers, excited for the game to begin. He had seen you falling asleep on his shoulder during a party after a game, too tired from studying for a test that you took earlier.

Porco sighed. He wished he could find any other reason to explain your behaviour but the only one that came to his mind was his late night confession to you. He shouldn’t have told you he loved you. Now you were avoiding him and his feelings and he was scared he had lost your friendship completely.

He put the phone on his back pocket and grabbed his keys, heading to the parking lot. After getting into his car, he turned on the radio and drove out of the campus, entering the main highway of the city. He wasn’t sure where he was heading to, but all he knew is that he wanted to stop thinking about you, the moment he thought you had shared and the dry messages that followed.

He had really fucked it up.

…

Sitting on your faculty’s corridor floor, you looked over at the texts Porco had been sending you the past week. It physically pained you to be so curt with someone that meant so much to you. Porco had always been there for you, even in the times you had told him you really didn’t need him. He cared when you got sick, when you were sad and also when you wanted company to crash a party on campus. You two had been inseparable since the day you met and he was already acquaintances with Annie and Armin due to all the time he had spent at your place.

This was the right thing to do, you told yourself one more time, closing your Instagram. You were taking the right decision. Porco had fallen in love with you and then had tried to make you think your boyfriend had cheated on you. If Zeke hadn’t pointed that out for you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. Truly, you were lucky Zeke had been understanding about the whole situation and had forgiven you for not trusting in him.

Porco wasn’t a bad person. You knew in your heart he wasn’t. But you had been wrong to trust he had your best interest in his mind.

That’s what didn’t make sense. Why had Porco, sweet and caring Porco had suddenly decided to put you against Zeke only just because he had caught feelings for you? The Porco you knew wouldn’t have done that. If he truly only wanted to drive you away from Zeke, he would have let you kiss him the night he spent with you. He would have taken the opportunity, right? So, why didn’t he?

Your head started hurting.

Your thumb ghosted over Porco’s contact on your phone, wondering whether to call him or not. You missed him dearly and knew that if you asked him to be honest, he would. There were countless moments in the past where he had been honest with you, from the time he confessed to accidentally stepping on your foundation powder and the time he opened up about his father’s death.

He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me.

Zeke’s voice resonated in your ears and you bit your tongue. He was right. You needed to remember Porco was trying to put you against your boyfriend.

Before you could think of a counterargument, you shot a quick text to Zeke. Yes. A day with your boyfriend would help you keep your mind busy.

“wanna hang out later? <3”

You watched intently, a small smile on your face as the three dots twinkled on your screen. Zeke’s answer came a few seconds later.

“Can’t. Exam tomorrow :(“

He then sent you a picture of a couple of books over a table that you recognized as the university’s library. He also had the tumbler you had given him a couple of months ago, filled with straight black coffee if you had to take a guess.

“:(( okaaaay, good luck on your exam, love u!”

“<3”

You put your phone away and sighed. You missed Zeke too. The few days after you had confronted him about the time you thought you saw Yelena and him kissing, he had showered you with love. You had spent the weekend at his place wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his and making love several times a day. You snuggled to him on the couch as he watched an old documentary and playfully took the cigar from his lips and took a puff yourself. ‘Ladies like you shouldn’t smoke,’ he had said playfully as he took it back from your lips and then pressed a kiss on your temple.

Nevertheless, the short honeymoon phase after you made up had come to an end. You knew it was going to happen, but now your body and heart were craving more of him and his classes were taking all his time. If it wasn’t an exam it was a group project or a study session and even if you knew seniors had it way harder than you, you missed him. Missed his beard scratching your neck, his strong cologne and his deep chuckle whenever you managed to make him smile.

Maybe you could walk around the mall. You still had some birthday money and you could treat yourself a little. Maybe a new body cream or a pair of cute underwear from Victoria Secret to surprise your boyfriend after he was done with his classes. Yes, a shopping trip was exactly what you needed to stop thinking so much. Smiling, you walked to the bathroom of your faculty, just a quick detour to freshen up before you got into your car.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and took out your lipstick, fixing it carefully.

“I fucking hate her.”

You turned around as you saw three girls entering the bathroom. They stood by your side, none of them seeming to notice your presence. One of them fixing her hair, another was looking down at her phone, eyebrows knitted together and mumbling more and more curses and the last one just leaned against the bathroom stalls, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the other two.

“We did tell you she wasn’t meant to be trusted,” she reminded the girl with the phone. When she raised her head, you recognized her as Pieck, one of Porco’s close friends, who you had seen around at a lot of parties and on many of his Instagram photos.

“How is that helping me?” Pieck asked icily.

“I’m just saying, Yelena is shady. Telling you all that crap about only being able to open up with you— and for what? For her to post photo after photo of her fuckboy?” the girl in front of the mirror said. “Like, nobody needs to know you’re getting it at the library, why post about it? Literally, nobody cares.”

“She’s not worth it,” the other girl interjected.

“She really isn’t, babe. And Zeke isn’t even that hot,” her friend continued with a mocking laugh. “The one that looks like a clown is her, not you. Just let it go.”

“He truly is a bad case of the monkey face,” Pieck agreed with a snort. “Men like that are what keep me a lesbian.”

“Hi Pieck,” you greeted her. For the first time, Pieck looked your way and widened her eyes, recognizing you in an instant.

“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I— I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

You faked a chuckle. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say you shouldn’t worry about them, Yelena is—”

“Yeah, yeah, we both shouldn’t worry. You’re probably trying to move on and ignore them too,” Pieck sighed and then pursed her lips in discomfort. “But I know you were Zeke’s girlfriend for a while, it’s normal you don’t want to hear about who he’s fucking now—”

“Zeke and I are still together,” you interrupted her.

Pieck’s face fell at your words. She looked at her friends, who were also looking at each other with an indecipherable expression. Your furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to why they were sharing those glances. Why would they think you weren’t with Zeke? Sure, you hadn’t posted photos with him lately but that didn’t mean you weren’t together anymore.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pieck said softly to her friends. They nodded and said they would be by the cafeteria before leaving. Once they went away, Pieck closed the bathroom door and walked to you again.

“Why— why would you think we’re not together?” you insisted, your voice trembling more than you would have wanted.

“Yelena and Zeke are fucking,” she sentenced in a soft voice. You shook your head.

“I know that’s what it looks like but Yelena likes women,” you said. “You— I mean you guys were dating or something, right? You know she’s a lesbian, she’s just pretending to have something with Zeke so her parents back off for a while.”

Pieck’s silence was deafening.

“Right?” you pushed. “It’s cool because she’s a lesbian and—”

“Yelena is bisexual.”

You paused, blinking as you tried to understand. After a few seconds, you shook your head.

“She’s not.”

“The reason we’re not dating anymore is because I saw her fucking Zeke at a party,” she explained.

“No,” you said, and shook your head once more. “No, because if it happened at a party then someone would have seen them. Someone would have noticed, there would have been rumours, I would have known . Pieck, someone would have told me, Reiner, Marcel, Porco—”

“They weren’t there. Almost everyone was a senior.”

“Then you! You would have told me,” you cried. “You’re telling me you saw my boyfriend fucking someone else and didn’t tell me!? Pieck—!”

“I thought you weren’t together anymore!” she defended herself. “What was I supposed to think when every single one of his friends at that shitty apartment knew he was fucking her in the bedroom and they all acted like it was a normal thing to do? I see all these photos of both of them and…” she continued, shaking her phone. “Of course I think he’s not with you anymore! Yelena is uploading pictures as she rests her legs on his lap, about their movie dates at his place and you want me to think she has a girlfriend!?”

Tears started falling from your eyes as she spoke. You sniffled, trying to compose yourself but you could feel every muscle of your body shaking.

“Does Porco know?” you asked in a whisper.

“Porco?”

“I know you two are best friends since high school. You— you had to tell him. If this was real, if this happened, you had to tell Porco,” you reasoned. “So tell me, Pieck, does Porco know?” you insisted, raising your voice, hating the way it cracked at the end.

Pieck shook her head. “I told him Yelena cheated on me, didn’t tell him with who.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me not to date Yelena, said she wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to prove Porco right, you know him,” Pieck said with a small shrug.

You nodded idly, your eyes lost. No. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t— even if it did. It did make sense but it couldn’t make sense. Because if Pieck was right, if Yelena and Zeke were—

No.

“Give me a date,” you whispered.

“What?”

“When was this?”

“I don’t— Two weeks ago?”

“I need to know the exact date, Pieck.”

“Girl, I don’t remember exactly, I—”

“Give me a date, Pieck!” you sobbed, raising your voice. She sighed and nodded, taking out her phone.

You watched as Pieck went through her messages with Yelena, scrolling up as she tried to remember the date. Your breath was hitching, inhaling more than you were exhaling but you didn’t care. You wanted to know when it was. Pieck was going to tell you it happened on a date where he was with you. She was going to say it happened one of the nights you and Zeke stayed the weekend at his place and then you would know she’s lying. Yes, that was going to happen. She would tumble over her own lie and this nightmare would be over.

“March 31st,” Pieck murmured. “I kept texting her, asking where she was before I went to look for her,” she reminisced, before showing you her phone.

00:36

lena where are u

?????

why are my friends saying you’re with zeke rn

yelena answer me

fuck u i’m going there

01:19

FUCK YOU YELENA YOURE THE WORST

PIECE OF SHIT IVE EVER MET

REALLY???? ZEKE?????

HOPE YOU GET HERPES

I FUCKING HATE YOU

babe, i’m sorry

can we talk?

A bitter taste crept inside your mouth as you took out your phone and went through yours and Zeke’s messages, looking desperately for the date. It was the weekend you spent together. It had to be. The memories of Zeke’s kitchen calendar that said April were lying to you. It had to be March. Or maybe he changed the calendar because he was with you on March 31st.

You scrolled up until March and went to read the messages exchanged on that day.

07:23

Good morning! I know it’s really early

But I want to see you today <3

Meet me at the tennis court?

sure, i’ll take an uber :)

Silent sobs escaped your mouth as your phone started shaking in your trembling hands. Pieck whispered apologies and you wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up, that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one that swore she wanted to marry you and then went to fuck someone else at a party, not caring if he was seen or not.

But it wasn’t true. Zeke said it was just a ruse, that Yelena just wanted to hide her queerness, that they were just good friends. He said so. Pieck had to be lying, she had to be. She was just messing with you, lying to see how much you could believe her. Because Zeke wouldn’t do that, you were the one he trusted, you were the one he was going to marry, you—

Pieck was still holding her phone in front of you.

With the very same date.

And Yelena admitting her crime.

But it couldn't be right. There had to be a mistake because Zeke loved you. He loved you and he had told you about his family, he had taken you to meet his grandparents, he promised he hadn’t kissed Yelena that night, he—

Had he not kissed her?

Was it only a movie night?

…

No, it hadn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Pieck’s voice sounded far, your lips parted as you tried to gasp for air. You lifted your head and saw her lips moving but you couldn’t hear any sound but your heart beating out of your chest. Tingles started creeping on your fingers and without you being able to do anything to prevent it, you dropped your phone on the bathroom floor.

Why didn’t it make a sound?

Why were your fingers numb?

You lifted your head and Pieck was gone. Dismissing her sudden disappearance, you crouched down and picked your phone. You winced at the huge crack on your screen and slid your finger several times over it until you could press on Zeke’s contact and call him.

As his phone rang, you pressed your back on the wall, slowly sinking until you were sitting on the floor.

“Baby, I told you I was studying for this test, I can’t—”

“I know about you and Yelena,” you said in a broken voice. You heard him let out an annoyed sigh on the other line.

“Didn’t we talk about this already? I told you she’s not—”

“I know about the party. The day we played baseball and— that same night you went to a party and fucked her,” you sobbed. You wiped the tears on your face with the back of your hand. “Zeke, tell me it’s a lie, tell me you didn’t do this, please, please tell me you didn’t really fuck Yelena,” you begged. “Please.”

“You know what? Get some help. Like, psychological help. This isn’t normal.”

The silence after Zeke hung up choked you. Your chest rose up and down as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your brain was screaming. Loudly. ‘Make it stop,’ you told yourself. ‘Get it together. Make it stop.’

Make it stop.

It’s a lie.

Make it stop.

He lied to you.

Stop.

He fucked her.

Please, stop.

He lied.

I can’t breathe.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

…

When you woke up, Porco was there.

Your head felt heavy as you tried to sit up, rubbing your eyes. A quick look around let you know you were in your apartment but you weren’t sure as to how , or why your friend was there, his phone on his lap and his eyes looking at you filled with worry.

He whispered your name as if his voice could hurt you. “How are you feeling?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked groggily. You noticed your throat was hurting as well. “What hour is it?” you mumbled as you palmed your jean pockets looking for your phone. You found it hidden between two pillows and pressed the power button, trying to see if you had any unread messages.

None.

“Pieck called me,” Porco explained. “And it’s eight and a half.”

Pieck. Pieck with her friends in the bathroom, Pieck with the text messages. Everything came back to you in a second and you couldn’t help but wince at the way your head hurt.

“How are you feeling?” he insisted. You took a deep breath. The small movement made you realize how much the muscles of your back were hurting along with your arms. You licked your lips, hating how dry they felt against your tongue.

“I broke my phone.”

Porco furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I— I dropped it. There’s a crack on the screen.”

He nodded slowly and looked down at his shoes, his forearms resting on his knees. You could almost listen to his loud thoughts, one coming after another inside his head. Porco sighed and turned his head back to you.

“Want me to get it fixed? Marcel knows a guy, I’m sure he can get it done by tomorrow.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s working just fine,” you said, passing your thumb over the crack. “No need to change it.”

Porco watched your eyes get lost on the dark screen and tightened his lips. He had the urge to throw your phone out of your window, make you understand you had to leave it, that it wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t need it, that you didn’t need him —

Instead, he nodded.

“What happened?” you asked.

Porco paused, deliberating his words before speaking. “Pieck called and told me what you guys talked about and that… you didn’t take it well. She said you were crying and— that you had a panic attack, so she left the bathroom to look for help. She found Armin and he was the one that helped you regain your breath. Once you settle down, he called Annie to tell her what happened and she picked you up. When I got here you were already asleep on the couch, Annie said it was okay if I waited here.”

“I… don’t remember much,” you confessed with a grimace. “I don’t remember Armin helping me out. I— I do remember what Pieck and I talked about, though. Wish I could forget it instead,” you snorted.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. Ouch . Why did every muscle of your body hurt so much?

“Wanna watch some shitty reality TV?” he offered. He didn’t miss the way a small smile appeared on your face.

In a matter of minutes, Porco had gone into your room and brought your laptop, and started looking for the show on Netflix. He put your laptop on his thighs and let you crawl by his side, your head resting against his shoulder.

“Wish they had Ink Master,” you sighed, as the intro of Netflix’s newest reality show played on your screen.

“We both know Netflix doesn’t have good shows.”

You snorted. “Black Mirror is good.”

“And yet we’re watching The Circle,” Porco teased you.

“Weren’t you the one that binged Season 1 on one night and then asked me to do the same so you could rant?” you reminded him with a playful tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied nonchalantly, making you chuckle.

What followed next was a comfortable silence. One episode went by and Porco made no attempts to stop it from automatically playing the second episode. You snuggled closer, the fabric of his green jacket feeling nice against your cheek. How long had it been since you felt so much peace with someone else by your side?

In any other situation, you would be commenting on it, pressing pause just to bitch and rant about the contestants or make quick runs to the kitchen. But Porco was sitting still, his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was trying to comfort you the best way he could, knowing any words would fail, he aimed to create a safe space for you and not force you to behave normally when you both knew better than to completely ignore what had happened earlier.

Right. Zeke.

You felt your eyes watering and bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling down. Focusing on your breath, you inhaled and exhaled rhythmically until the knot in your throat seemed to loosen up. Your feelings towards Zeke were confusing, a part of you wanting to run, look for him and demand an explanation. Another part of you wanted to face with, punch his stupid little face until you got tired and leave him on the floor. And another, maybe a bigger part of you wanted him to cradle you in his strong arms, kiss your temple and scratch your skin with his beard as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

You swallowed. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe you did need psychological help.

Could you trust his words if he were to provide another explanation? Could you ever trust in him again? Most of all, could you trust yourself? Many voices had different opinions inside your head, yet they all agreed on something.

You were miserable.

“Every time I’m not with him, I’m anxious,” you mumbled, the words leaving your mouth before you thought them over. Porco moved his hand to pause the show, but you gestured to him not to. “And when he’s with me…” you continued, “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Your voice cracked at the end. Porco’s hand twitched, not sure what to do next. Should he hold you, put an arm around your shoulder to comfort you? Should he not move a muscle until you were done? Should he offer a word of comfort? He turned his head to you and noticed tears were silently streaming down your face.

“If Zeke was in front of me right now and told me Pieck lied her ass off, even after all the proof she showed me today… I would believe him. I would,” you sobbed. “And I hate myself so much for it. I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of loving him, Pock.”

Porco’s hand cupped your head, his fingers gently caressing your hair. You snuggled closer to him, his perfume soothing the pain inside your heart and his gentle gesture comforting you. That was the magic Porco had. You knew he wasn’t always good with his words and most of the time he preferred to show rather than tell and boy, did he do a spectacular good job at showing you how much he cared.

He was there. Even after you had been ignoring him for over two weeks, he was here with his green jacket and his earthy-scented perfume ready to hold you if you needed him. And you did. You could never think of a moment where you wouldn’t want him to be there with you.

You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reluctantly pulled away from his touch, turning on your seat so you were facing him. You paused your show and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said, biting down your bottom lip. “For being here and waiting until I woke up. I— I’ve been such a bad friend to you,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

Porco shook his head. “No. I’m sorry for what I said the night I stayed here.”

“No, you don’t need to— I mean— I wasn’t mad about it,” you fumbled with your words, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t know,” Porco shrugged. “Felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him. “Thank you for staying with me that night. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

“I just— Can I say something else? Promise this is the last time I talk about it.” You nodded. “I didn’t love you the first time I met you,” he blurted, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like I saw you and caught feelings— first time I saw you you were drunk off your ass at Reiner’s party. I was your friend first. Still am, nothing will change that. And honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if my feelings went away,” he chuckled. “Who knows. Might finally meet someone else and fall for them.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll meet someone,” you agreed with a strained smile.

“Whatever happens, know that before anything else, I’m your friend,” Porco said, golden eyes setting on yours. “And that will never change. You’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me.”

“See any other reason why I’m watching a shitty reality show on a Tuesday night?”

At this, you hit Porco with one of the pillows, square on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned face.

“You’re so fucked,” he said, putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

You took this as a sign to run, the ache in your muscles forgotten at the back of your head as you tried to dodge the pillows Porco was throwing at you. Your legs weren’t weak anymore, as you quickly jumped to avoid the furniture and picked up one of the pillows to throw it back at him. Your heart was no longer aching, but jumping as you cackled when Porco tripped and fell. Even if your eyes were watering again, this time was due to the excessive laughter. And yes, your breath was hitching but it was thanks to Porco chasing you around the living room.

You let yourself fall on the floor next to Porco, the coldness of the floor soothing your skin as he dramatically held his knee against his chest like an injured soccer player. You turned your head to him, smiling at his antics as he filled your heart with happiness once more.

Maybe that had been his power all along.

#porco x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco x you #porco galliard x you #porco galliard angst #porco galliard fluff #porco angst #porco fluff #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger x reade #zeke x you #zeke jaeger x you #zeke jaeger #zeke angst

285 notes · View notes

wroteasongabouther · 4 years ago

Text

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 3

a/n: we love a little throwback with this gif, my heart 😭 again, i can’t thank you all enough for the love you’ve shown my writing it’s truly the sweetest thing and i’m happy you guys are liking the story so far! this was is the longest part so far with a lot happening, so happy reading! remember to leave some feedback and reblog cause it’s always appreciated.

and as always, thanks to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading ❤️

word count: 19k

warnings: mentions of a partner cheating (f*** mark), minor mention of drugs (aka weed lol), alcohol consumption (tequila anyone?), and serious! sexual! tense!

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

Y/N didn’t realize she had left Harry’s apartment the other day with his hoodie on until the next morning when she had woken up to the sweet smell of faint lavender and laundry soap. She didn’t return the hoodie, though. In fact, she shamelessly slept in the hoodie for three more nights; it was just really comfortable, she tries to convince herself that’s the only reason she’s wearing it to bed each night. It wasn’t because the smell that calmed her, reminding her of that dimpled smile and dazzling green eyes that would wander into her dreams every night now and then. And it was especially not because she found herself falling for those same pair of eyes, no, not a shred of feelings besides friendship there.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Sammy deadpans.

“What are you talking about now?” Y/N questions, keeping her eyes on her phone as she texts back Harry.

“You and your little affair,” Sammy quips back. His choice of words causes Y/N’s head to quickly snap up and look at her friend. He’s giving her a bored look, a smug little smile on his face that makes Y/N narrow her eyes.

“I am not having an affair, Sammy, so let’s not start that rumour around the office, please,” Y/N says to him in a hushed voice. “Plus, Mark hasn’t bothered to call or text me in almost a week now. So, I’m pretty sure the next time we do talk it will be to end things officially,” Y/N explains, her voice falling flat as she feels her heart rate pick up just thinking of her and Mark breaking up. Regardless of the fact he’s hurt her feelings, annoyed her and so on - it’s still a break up, and they really freaking suck.

“I sure hope so,” Sammy says. “You know I’m team Harry all the way,” he gives Y/N a wicked smile which she only rolls her eyes at.

There were no teams to be on, she thinks. She was just becoming friends with Harry, and yeah, she found him ridiculously attractive and really sweet too, but she wasn’t dumping Mark for him or anything. If she was dumping Mark it was because of how their relationship turned out, without Harry’s help, and how neither of them are benefitting from being together anymore. Hell, they didn’t even have sex last time he was in the city. It also didn’t have to do with the fact that Y/N would be nervous that Harry could hear them. Nope that thought didn’t cross her mind not even once - Y/N finds herself biting on her bottom lip as she’s deep in thought and trying to convince herself certain things.

Her phone buzzes where she left it on her desk brings her back to reality. She picks it up and swipes up as the face ID recognizes her, opening up the messages, between her and Harry, that she was previously on. Y/N can’t help it as a chuckle leaves her lips. She notices how Sammy leans back in his chair and raises a brow at her, but she chooses to ignore him and instead keeps watching the gif Harry sent on loop over and over again.

It was a cartoon Santa, dabbing. Yes, Harry used a gif that had to do with a trend from the world's youth. Y/N never would have guessed Harry even knew what dabbing was. She holds back another chuckle and looks up a gif to respond to his. She goes for one that’s a cartoon of Rudolph, his nose lighting up like a strobe light as he dances on two legs. It’s silly, but she’s enjoying this back and forth texting of stupid Christmas themed gifs. It’s been going on for about five minutes and she doesn’t even know why or how it started, but she loves it.

How’s work so far today? Harry texts after sending a gif of the Olaf the snowman from Frozen, dancing in the field of flowers. Y/N tilts her head to the side and leans further back in her seat, stretching her legs under her desk. The work that was on her desk was long forgotten when her and Harry began texting earlier.

It’s good, I finally have a few moments of downtime at my desk. We had like four clients in this morning for some fittings for the many Christmas parties going on next week. Y/N sends that off before typing, How’s your day? Write anything good yet?

Glad it’s less busy now, don’t let me distract you with all these amazing Christmas gifs though. And I’ve got a few things written while at the cafe, finally found the right melody for another song I was working on last week. Harry types out to Y/N, biting on the nail of his thumb after hitting send. He’s been leaning on the guitar in his lap for the past twenty minutes. That melody was found, but pushed away after he got into texting Y/N.

Not too distracting, although I think Sammy is jealous no one’s sending him any silly gifs. A second text shows up only seconds later, Harry’s sometimes surprised at how fast Y/N can type. And that’s good though! Will I ever get to hear you play in person besides through the wall our apartments share?

Harry smiles over his thumb at the first text but then is biting at his nail again as he reads over the second bubble a few times. He isn’t too surprised that she can hear him play from her apartment, but he is surprised she’s asking to hear him play. He doesn’t think he’s all that great of a guitar player. It’s kind of hard to think when he’s best mates with one of the best guitar players in the industry; Mitch could outplay him any day. Harry stops biting on his nail and hovers his thumbs over his keyboard. Although he’s usually too nervous to just sit and play for someone, he finds himself imagining playing for Y/N.

Tell Sammy I’ll send him some gifs too if he wants. And as for playing for you, maybe... if you catch me on a good day. Y/N shakes her head at his response, somehow not too shocked that’s what he says. She recalls him not telling her what popular songs he had written, how his cheeks grew a shade of pink at the mere idea of Y/N knowing of his work. So, she’ll take her odds and pray that someday soon she gets Harry on a good day and hears him play something.

“Y/N,” Amanda’s voice calling her name causes Y/N to jump, sitting straight up in her seat and nearly dropping her phone. She shuts off the screen and feels the vibration from her Apple watch, a notification reading that it was time to head into the conference room to interview new interns with Amanda. Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Amanda standing behind her with her eyebrows raised and her lifeline of a notebook in hand. “You alright?” She asks, slight concern in her tone.

“Yeah,” Y/N clears her throat and stands from her desk, wobbling on her heeled boots as she gathers up her laptop and cell phone. “I’m all good, ready to find us some new interns,” she states with a smile.

Amanda gives her a look as if doubting her, but then nods as Y/N steps in front of her and they move into the conference room. It’s not until their third candidate that Y/N thought of her boyfriend. Her watch buzzes, flashing up at text from Mark, then one from Sammy right away. She ignores them and tries to focus on listening to yet another fashion student talk about their love for the industry and the company. She was once just like them, sitting on the other side of this conference table and grinning ear to ear from just being in the building. She still felt excited to come into work every day and she feels very grateful to still feel that way. So, therefore she doesn’t hate sitting there for a few hours and having a handful of first impressions with girls that she once was. But, in the back of her mind she’s wondering what Mark could have texted her. It’s been five days since the phone call she ended up hanging up on him. What could he possibly have to say?

“Thank you for coming in today,” Amanda says with a smile to their last interview of the day. The small blonde stands up as the two of them do, and reaches across the table to shake both of their hands before saying short goodbyes and letting one of the receptionists walk them out.

“I think I liked her the best,” Y/N comments, writing a quick note beside her resume.

“I agree. We’ll email back and forth a bit more about it. I’ve got another phone meeting with a few clients for the new year first,” Amanda explains as she’s reading over her planner before snapping it shut.

“Sounds like fun,” Y/N nods before walking separate ways from Amanda and heading back to her desk. As she gets closer, she can't help but notice the oversized bouquet of flowers on her desk. Her eyebrows pinch together as she slows her steps, taking in the beautiful pinks and oranges in the bouquet before reaching for the card that stuck out of it. Sammy pops up then, right by Y/N’s side almost breathing down her neck.

“Did you not get my text? These showed up like halfway through your interviews,” Sammy states, trying to read the card before Y/N can. She shields it’s away from his eyes and looks at him over her shoulder. “Sorry,” he apologizes and takes a step back.

Y/N reads the printed out note and finds herself sighing as she reads it over again. I’m sorry - Mark. Y/N shakes her head and rolls her lips into her mouth, staring at the bouquet again. That’s it, just sorry? She thinks, but then remembers that he had texted her too. Maybe there’s something more there but Y/N finds herself doubting it.

“Who’s it from?” Sammy questions. Y/N ignores him and pulls out her phone from her back pocket. She unlocks it and taps on her messages app, having to back out of her conversation with Harry in order to open up Mark’s text from earlier.

Did you get the flowers? The company sent me a notification saying someone signed for them. Y/N rolls her eyes at his careless text message; not an ounce of emotion behind any of his words, through text or on the note. She doesn’t find herself smiling at the flowers, thinking how it’s a nice gesture, but instead finding it ridiculous that her boyfriend missed the whole point of the fight and just thinks some random bouquet of flowers will fix everything that she’s feeling. Is he even bothered by the fact they fought and haven’t spoken in five days? She wonders as she shuts off her phone screen without responding.

“Mark sent them,” Y/N finally tells Sammy, turning around to hand him the card. After he grabs it, and Y/N turns back around and places a hand on either side of the vase. She turns on her heels and walks around her desk to the left, moving Sammy’s chair out of the way and placing them on his desk instead. “You can have them, they look better on your desk,” she stays in a flat tone of voice, feeling indifferent about if she should just throw them out or not.

“Are you going to break up with him?” Sammy asks, his voice is quiet and soft - sounding like a caring friend instead of a gossiping coworker.

Y/N bites down on her bottom lip and nods, “yeah, I think I am going to. I just don’t know how, breaking up with someone on the phone feels so shallow and I would hate to be broken up with over the phone.” She explains, turning back around to look at Sammy again. He’s frowning, a look of pity in his eyes.

“But it’s unfair to you both to keep this relationship going on like this, Y/N,” Sammy says, letting out a deep sigh and tosses the card in the garbage bin by Y/N’s desk. “You’ll know what to do, you always do,” Sammy adds on with a smile.

Y/N tries to mirror her friends smile but feels it fall flat on her lips. She’s doubting herself, doubting her choices with Mark these past four months, and she keeps doubting herself all day till she’s walking into her apartment. She closes her door and slips out of her coat. Y/N sighs and pulls out her phone while walking to her bedroom, taking a seat on the end of her bed before pulling up Mark’s contact.

Her fingers hover over the call icon, her heart beating a million miles an hour as she imagines how this phone call is going to go. Should she really break up with him over the phone? She thinks, yet again doubting herself. This was really the only way to do it, seeing as he won’t be in the city for who knows how long. Y/N didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore, especially since it started to feel less like a relationship as the days went on this past month. Y/N inhales deeply just as her phone begins to ring, Mark’s contact picture of him kissing her cheek fills the screen in her hand. Y/N exhales before tapping the green icon on the phone and bringing it to her ear.

“Hi,” Y/N says softly into the phone.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my text earlier,” Mark starts off the conversation with a hard tone of voice as if he’s annoyed. Y/N licks her lips and nods, even though Mark can’t see her.

“Yeah, um, sorry, work got busy,” she lies. She had the time to text him back, she just didn’t know what to say as her thoughts were clouded with how to break up with him.

“Did you get them?” Mark asks.

“The flowers? Yeah, I did,” Y/N sighs. She’s racking her brain on how to do this. How do you break up with someone over a phone call? She shakes her head and brings a hand to her forehead, pushing her fingers through the roots of her hair. “Mark, we need to talk,” she says, feeling that’s the best she can do - the good ol’ classic line.

“Yeah, we do,” Mark agrees with a sigh from him now. Y/N listens as it’s like something shuffles on the other end of the phone, as if Mark switches his phone from one ear to the other. “Look, Y/N, you’re a wonderful girl, truly, you are. But we’re not really benefiting from this, are we?” Mark says, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts as her brows pinch together.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N questions.

“Uh, yeah-”

“No, no, I’m breaking up with you. I have thought long and hard about this for days now, and I don’t think we should be together anymore, Mark,” Y/N blurts out quickly, feeling as though her moment that she’s been talking herself up to all day was being taken away from her. She releases the grip she had on her hair and stares straight ahead at the painting on her wall, waiting for Mark to say something.

He lets out a long breath, “then I guess this is a lot easier for the both of us then, huh?” He says. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief.

“I guess so,” she mumbles.

“I’ll uh, I’ll send my assistant over soon for any of my things I’ve left at your apartment. She’ll bring the few things of yours that are at my place too. Are you available tomorrow?” Mark explains, asking the question so casually too. In fact, he sounds like he’s distracted with something on his end of the call too.

“Have you had this planned for a while now or something?” She asks, her eyebrows only pull together tighter in confusion. How can he act so unbothered only seconds after breaking up with her? She thinks. Sure, it’s a mutual break up, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t bothered by it still.

“Uh, no,” Mark mutters, not sounding convincing at all. Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head at herself - how did she even date this guy?

“You know what, whatever,” Y/N breathes out as her eyes close and she runs a hand through her hair, “I’ll be home from work around five in the evening tomorrow for your assistant to come by. Tell her to be on time, please,” she tells Mark.

“Alright,” he says. There’s a couple beats of silence between them, and she doesn’t feel upset over it at all. In fact she feels at peace with this breakup. She supposes that they didn’t date for long, and they never said I love you to each other and really didn’t spend too much time with one another the past two months. Maybe that’s why she’s not bothered by this break up at all.

“Well, it was fun, Mark,” Y/N says, “I wish you the best,” she adds.

“You too, Y/N,” he replies. And with that, Y/N brings the phone from her ear and ends the call. Staring at the screen that was on Mark’s contact info for a few minutes as she lets herself fall into her thoughts.

That was a lot easier than she imagined it to be earlier today. Y/N falls back on her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she holds her phone to her stomach and stares up at the ceiling. Did he have this planned though? She finds herself thinking. She imagines that he sent those flowers earlier to butter her up, maybe, before he called to break her heart only hours later. And having already made plans for his assistant to go through his apartment and bring her things to her. Maybe he already had gathered her things beforehand, meaning over a week ago he would have packed it up - only to come over to her house and fight with her for days on end before making her drive him to the airport. Y/N just shakes her head as her thoughts run wild.

Y/N knows exactly what she needs to do to get out of this overthinking stage that she’s got herself into. She gets up from her bed and opens her closet, her figure skates sitting on the bottom of the closet leaning nicely against each other. She finds an empty tote bag and tosses them inside, then quickly gets dressed into a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a plain white turtleneck long sleeve, and then layering by putting on a dark grey crew neck that has ‘LA’ in white writing across the front.

After making sure she has her wallet, phone and keys, she puts on a black puffer jacket and heads out her front door. Harry’s walking out of the elevator just as Y/N is locking up, he’s got a Starbucks hot drink in hand and a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Harry says, but then his eyebrows pinch together as he realizes the time, “where are you off to?” He wonders. Y/N brushes her hair from her face and lets out a small sigh.

“It’s, like, two weeks till Christmas and I haven’t gone skating yet, so I just got up and grabbed my skates to go out,” she explains, lifting her shoulder that her tote bag was hanging off. Her skates are poking out the top slightly, Harry notices the white figure skates with a pair of matching light pink guards on the bottom.

“Oh, fun,” Harry nods, meeting her eyes again.

Y/N doesn’t even think twice before she’s asking, “did you want to come with me?”

Harry smiles, causing Y/N to mirror him, before he takes a few moments to nod in response. “I would love to, yeah,” Harry clears his throat, noticing how overly excited he may have sounded. “I should dress a bit warmer, though, it’s supposed to snow tonight,” he tells her, motioning to his apartment door down the hall.

“Good call,” Y/N says, following him to his doorway. Harry holds open his door for her after unlocking it, then letting it close softly behind them as he takes off the lighter jacket he had on. Y/N smiles at the decorations around his apartment, loving how the glow from the lights of his tree filled up the space around them before he can turn on any lights.

“I don’t have my own skates, suppose I’m not a real New Yorker like that,” Harry states as he opens the closet beside his front door and starts ruffling around in order to find where his scarfs were hiding.

“That’s fine,” Y/N says with a soft chuckle, turning around to watch as he sticks his head into the closet and pushes things around. “They have rentals at Bryant Park,” she tells him.

“I’ve never been,” Harry admits. He finally gets a hold of the long burgundy scarf with a brown leaf pattern on it, his mum had gifted it to him a few years back. Harry pushes the doors of his closet closed and puts the scarf down for a moment, hanging it on the door handle before he grabs his long black coat to slip it on. Once he’s got that on, he wraps the scarf around his neck, fixing the collar of his coat and the scarf so it’s comfortable.

“You’ve really never been to Bryant Park?” Y/N asks surprisingly. It wasn’t Central Park by any means, but anyone who lived in the Manhattan area typically had walked through Bryant Park.

“Nope,” Harry says, grabbing for his forgotten Starbucks drink, bringing it to his lips for a quick sip. He looks up at Y/N to find her smiling at him. “What?” Harry questions.

“Nothing, I’m just excited for you to see Bryant Park. It’s beautiful during the Winter,” she states.

“Well then, let’s not waste any time, come on,” Harry nods his head to the door and gives her a smile while holding it open for her. She thanks him, waits for him to lock the doors before they fall into step with one another to the elevator. Harry beats her to hitting the button, literally leaning in front of her in order to push the down button before she can. Y/N shakes her head at him, smiling.

“So how was your time at the cafe earlier?” Y/N asks Harry, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“It was good,” Harry says, tilting his head to the side so he can look at Y/N, “wrote another song about love,” he adds with a smile. Y/N chuckles and raises her eyebrows.

“Never would have guessed,” she teases him.

The whole walk to Bryant Park, all Harry can think about is when the hell was the last time he skated? That and how good Y/N looked, which is a thought that’s always going through his head, to be honest. But he’s stressing himself out, hoping and praying that some sort of muscle memory clicks in and he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Y/N. God, maybe he should have just saved himself the embarrassing situation and declined her invitation. Harry knew the moment he looked into her eyes there was something a bit off with her; how her smile didn’t quite reach its full potential - so the moment she asked if he wanted to come along with her, he didn’t even think twice before saying yes. The girl has her own figure skates, Harry wouldn’t doubt it if she’s about to skate circles around him.

“All black outfit,” Y/N comments as she watches Harry pick out a pair of black skates in his size, “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear all black before,” she adds with a smile.

“I used to only wear all black,” he admits, “back in uni, I really didn’t venture out in fashion and only wore black jeans and black t-shirts basically all year,” he explains to Y/N, letting her lead the way to the area for skaters to sit on the many benches and do up their skates.

“I truthfully can’t even imagine that,” Y/N replies, taking a seat on the bench right by the open door to the ice rink. She looks out at the about forty people on the ice, lit up by the many Christmas lights hanging over it and a few light posts in each corner too, as the sun has fully set now. The city around them is still hustling and bustling as it always is, which makes her smile.

“It was a tragedy, but I got older and realized that fashion can be fun, especially after moving to New York, seeing what people wear out for some innocent ice skating,” he mentions, taking in Y/N’s fashion forward outfit. The style was very trendy these days, he had noticed - online and in the streets.

“I would be an abomination of a former FIT student if I just walked around New York City in leggings and a hoodie,” Y/N states, “if I’m going somewhere, with someone, I always feel the need to look good.”

“And you do, by the way, look good,” Harry says, his words coming out quick and in a bit of a stumble. Y/N can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She says a quiet ‘thank you’ before she begins to lace up her skates.

Y/N has her skates done up before Harry, so she has an extra minute to take out her phone and open her Instagram app. She checks out her newest comments, liking a few, before she finds herself aimlessly scrolling through her feed and liking some posts there. Checking up on Harry, she notices he’s almost done doing up his skates, so she stands up and grabs her tote bag that now holds her skate guards and chunky black boots.

“Did you want to lock anything up?” Y/N asks Harry, motioning to the small lockers to their left.

He shakes his head, “no thank you,” he says before his attention is back on tying his skates. Y/N smiles at how his tongue pokes out just slightly passed his lips before she turns around and walks over to lock up her tote bag, making sure everything but her phone is inside.

Once the small locker door is closed, she walks over to the wall of the ice rink and opens her Instagram again, putting on a quick filter that makes it look like it’s being filmed with an old film camera before she pans her camera around while holding down the button on the screen. As she turns to face where Harry is, she cuts off the video and double checks he’s not in it. With having so many followers, she always makes sure that her friends and family are comfortable with being posted before doing so. Y/N adds a quick caption of ‘first skate this season’ with a white heart emoji before she posts it to her story, then she slips the phone into her back pocket and walks over to where Harry sat waiting for her.

“Ready?” Harry asks, smiling up at her.

“Yup,” she nods, smiling back at him. Harry nods, muttering ‘alright’ under his breath, and then stands up on wobbling legs. Y/N chuckles and reaches for his elbow, helping him stand up straight. “You’ve skated before, right?” She asks, realizing now that she only assumed that he had.

“Uh, it’s been a few years,” Harry admits, flashing another nervous smile her way. All he can think about is her hand on his arm, and how she hasn’t let go of him yet. Harry hadn’t even thought about the potential arm holding, or hand holding maybe, they could get into here. She has a boyfriend, he reminds himself over and over again as he watches her lips tug up as she smiles back at him again.

“Alright, we’ll take it slow then,” she assures him, pulling at his arm gently to get them moving forward on their skates.

Y/N takes the first step onto the shining ice, letting her blades slide over the top slowly before she takes a sharp turn and is in front of Harry in an instant. His eyebrows fly up his forehead as his eyes fall down to her skates again, noticing how worn out they look now, her left foot lifting up as she sticks the toe of her skate blade into the ice - her whole stance made her look like some sort of professional. Harry’s head snaps up and he meets her gaze, lips now smirking at his stunned expression.

“You’ve been skating a lot before then, hm?” Harry gulps, looking back down at his feet as he inches slowly to the ice.

“Since I was a kid,” Y/N reveals. He’ll touch more on it later, but first he wants to get himself onto the ice and get this embarrassment over with. Harry sighs and starts to place his right foot into the ice, letting out a deep breath as he does but just as quickly as he makes the move he’s slipping. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, ready to fall before he even has both feet on the ice. But both of Y/N’s arms fly out and grab a hold of his forearms, causing him to wrap each of his hands around her much smaller forearms.

Harry shakes his head and just decides to get it over with, pushing both skates onto the ice in a quick motion. Y/N is fully prepared for his sudden movement and skates backwards, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure she doesn’t get in anyone's way. She keeps a tight grip on Harry’s arms and smiles as she looks up at him and sees the stressed out look on his face.

“You’re doing great,” Y/N assures him, her voice causing Harry to look down and meet her soft eyes. “We can move a bit closer to the wall so you can hang onto it for the first bit?” She suggests, motioning to the wall beside them.

“Probably for the best,” Harry agrees, nodding his head and finally taking his eyes off Y/N’s in order to make his way to the wall. The few movements on his part aren’t as hard as he thought they’d be to get over to the wall. He thinks his muscle memory for skating will click in soon, hopefully.

Y/N takes it slow beside Harry, waiting for him to get comfortable enough to only need one hand on the wall before she lets go of his arm. She already misses the warmth from his touch. Not even one day into her and Mark’s break up and she’s already feeling touch deprived. To be fair, her and Mark hadn’t so much as given each other a few quick pecks and barely snuggling on the couch the last couple days they were together. Y/N shakes her head slightly at her thoughts of Mark.

“So how did you get into skating?” Harry asks after a few moments of them finding a slow pace.

“Um,” Y/N pauses as she thinks of how to explain how her parents didn’t want to spend much time with her, so they stuck her into many different hobbies to fill the void. “I was into a lot of the typical little girl hobbies, dancing, gymnastics, art, but figure skating was something that just really stuck with me as I grew up. Probably in connection with my obsession with the holidays, and the winter season,” Y/N explains, noticing already how Harry’s pace on his skates is picking up.

“Are you, like, really good?” Harry questions. Y/N chuckles and looks away from the ice below them to meet his gaze before he’s glancing down at his skates again in order to keep upright.

“Yup,” Y/N nods, rolling her lips into her mouth to hide her grin.

“So humble,” Harry jokes with a chuckle. “You could probably skate circles around me, huh? Do those little twirly things too?”

“I could do a few spins, yes,” Y/N says and nods her head. “I’ll let you get used to the ice first before I throw out any big moves,” she adds, looking down at how Harry’s feet were moving on the ice. Every minute he is getting better, soon enough he’ll let go of that wall and be able to skate in slow laps around the rink with her.

“How very considerate of you,” Harry notes, causing the both of them to chuckle again.

They do another two laps with Harry’s hand just inches away from the wall, hovering over it just in case he made the wrong move. But then soon enough, they’re mixed in with the other skaters and making strong, smooth strides across the ice. Y/N is laughing at something Harry says about how he must look like Bambi on ice, head thrown back and eyes crinkled up, when Harry just about falls. She catches him gasping and opens her eyes quickly before catching his hand in hers.

“You okay?” She asks, clear concern in her voice as she moves in order to meet his eyes. Harry knows this isn’t the first time they’ve sort of held hands, but it still feels like her skin is too warm for his cold touch and butterflies erupt in his stomach as she cards their fingers together so effortlessly. Damn Styles grow some balls and don’t let her make all the first moves, he thinks to himself.

“‘M alright,” Harry mumbles and nods, completely losing focus on the world around them as they float across the ice looking into each other's eyes and holding hands.

Y/N licks her lips, blinking up at Harry in what feels like an innocent way but realizes the moment his gaze drops to her lips that maybe it isn’t. Clearing her throat, she squeezes Harry’s hand and then slowly lets go. Harry can’t help but feel disappointed by how short they’d held hands for, he was hoping it would at least last a whole lap around the rink. Y/N shivers and sticks both of her hands into her coat pockets, playing off letting go of his hand with being cold, but in reality touching Harry’s skin made her feel like she was on fire.

“Tell me what your favourite colour is,” Harry blabs out loud suddenly.

Y/N furrows her brows and looks up at Harry. He’s no longer watching the ice with each stride of his skates, instead his posture is completely at ease almost as he seems much more confident on the ice now. Something tells Y/N that Harry is stupidly good at pretty much anything and if he doesn’t get it right the first time it would only take a few more before he masters it.

“It changes almost every other day,” Y/N admits, biting down on her bottom lip - which causes Harry’s eyes to flicker down to her lips yet again. “Lately it’s been green,” she exclaims, as she speaks Harry’s gaze falls back to her eyes.

“Like my eyes?” Harry teases, batting his eyelashes.

There’s suddenly a group of teenagers in their way, causing their conversation to pause as they have to maneuver around the few bodies. Harry finds that he doesn’t struggle at all with the quick movements he has to make with his skates in order to get around them. He smiles to himself, proud of how fast he’s picked up skating again. Maybe he’ll try the little twirly spin around Y/N to impress her. Too bad she’s much more talented on skates and is picking up speed before making a quick turn and is now skating backwards in front of Harry with her eyes narrowed and a tight smile on her lips.

“Firstly, that was a poor set up to try and get a compliment out of me, I’ll just tell you that your eyes are very pretty,” Y/N states. Harry smiles at her words, those pesky butterflies back in his stomach once again. “And second, my favourite green is more like a dark, rich, forest green,” she explains, quickly looking over her shoulder as they turn the corner of the rink. Harry notices how effortlessly she picks up her skates and crosses them over each other to smoothly take the turn.

“Like a Christmas tree?” Harry wonders.

Y/N smiles and nods, “exactly, like a Christmas tree,” she says, a beat of silence between them before she asks, “what’s your favourite colour?”

“Pink,” Harry answers without missing a beat. It’s been his favourite for years now, since he was just a young lad.

“Like my lips?” Y/N teases, her voice dropping down into a low and soft tone that causes a fire to spark in the pit of Harry’s stomach. His eyes drop to her lips at the mention of them, which Y/N notices and smirks at him before she’s turning on her skates and facing forward again. They both don’t say anything as they skate around the other turn of the rink, avoiding an older couple that has slowed down in front of them. Y/N still has a smug look on her face when Harry glances to his left where she skates beside him. Obviously, yes, exactly like the shade of your lips, Harry thinks and wishes he had the guts to say aloud.

“More like,” Harry pauses and then smiles, “like the Pink Panther,” Harry jokes.

“You know what, fair enough,” Y/N chuckles and shrugs her shoulder.

The two of them continue to ask each other more random favourites, getting the basics down with favourite foods, favourite alcoholic drinks, and favourite word too, of course. In fact, they are just skating at a leisurely pace for quite some time. Y/N notices that the number of people on the rink dwindles down to a mere twenty and she lifts her Apple watch up, so it lights up and shows her the time. Bryant Park should be closing within an hour or two, depending if they’re on holiday hours yet, meaning that Harry and her have spent nearly two hours out on the ice together.

“I think it’s time you bust out some of those fancy figure skating moves,” Harry suddenly says unprovoked. Y/N furrows her brows and shakes her head, watching a young couple, just a few people ahead of them, holding hands, like how she wishes her and Harry could have been this entire time. But it’s too soon, she thinks.

“I don’t know,” Y/N mutters under her breath, her eyes still on the couple as they’re laughing together - much like how her and Harry have been. Did these strangers around them think they were a couple?

“Fine,” Harry huffs and starts to skate a bit faster to be a few strides ahead of Y/N before he comes to a wobbly stop a bit more into the middle of the rink out of everyone's way. Y/N comes to a much smoother stop in front of him. “I’ll give it a shot then, how hard can it be to spin around a few times.”

Famous last words, Y/N thinks as Harry tries to whip his body around to try and attempt to do a spin. She can already see how he’s lifting the toe of his left skate, the small ridges getting caught on the ice while his body is still trying to spin around. Y/N’s eyes widen as she suddenly tries to stop him, her hands just barely getting a hold of his arms before he can fall. But his weight is too much and her skates slip out from under her. A small screech escapes her mouth as the two of them begin their fall to the ice - for surprisingly the first time tonight. Harry turns them both so he gets the worst of the fall, moving Y/N so she falls more on top of him rather than on the ice. Y/N notices and quickly moves her hand to the back of his head to ensure he doesn’t smack it against the hard surface. Her fingers card through his hair, while her other hand is clenching into a fist around the fabric of his coat.

“Shit,” Harry groans as the bodies fall to the ice. Thankfully, he tries to sit up a bit during the fall, so he doesn’t hit his head but instead he feels immediately pain shot up his elbow and backside.

“Oh my god,” Y/N gasps, blinking several times as she takes in what had happened. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asks Harry in a rush of words.

“I’m okay,” he nods, which causes Y/N to realize her hand is still brushing through his hair. She rubs his scalp a few times with her thumb before removing her hand and quickly lifting her body off of Harry’s. “I’ll probably have a bruised ass, but I guess that’s karma,” he tries to joke.

Y/N frowns and smacks his arm gently, “don’t pull that shit again, oh my god, I thought we were going to end our night in the ER.”

Harry chuckles and sits up, taking in how Y/N has sat up on her knees with both her hands resting on her thighs. Her hair is a bit of a mess and her eyes wide and wild with emotion - but otherwise she looks alright. Thankfully, Harry did good and kept her safe in their fall.

“Just need a few ice packs and maybe a joint before bed to ease the pain,” Harry says, only half joking.

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together, “do you smoke weed?” She asks. To be honest, she couldn’t imagine Harry as some pothead. Not that there was a true look to a ‘pothead’ these days. Hell, she’s had her fair share of joints and edibles while in college. Even afterwards too, Sammy loved to roll a joint or two towards the end of their wine nights.

Harry shrugs and begins to get up from the ice slowly. “Not really. It makes me a bit sleepy, truthfully,” he tells her.

“I get that,” Y/N nods, “I don’t smoke often, but when I do, I typically fall asleep within the hour after smoking. It annoys the crap out of Sammy.” She tells Harry truthfully. Harry nods as well, only a little bit surprised to learn that Y/N didn’t say no to drugs in her youth. Not that he was judging, far from it really cause he had no room to judge, but he just simply didn’t imagine her consuming anything more than a bottle or two of wine.

The two of them get up off the ice now, finally getting back on their feet. A sigh leaves Y/N lips as she brushes her hands on her jeans. “I think you falling is our cue to get out of here,” she suggests, skating slowly backwards towards the doorway where the benches were.

“You’re probably right,” Harry agrees and begins to follow her, trying not to whine with his movements as a sharp pain stings his bottom with each stride of his skates.

Y/N leaves Harry to sit on the bench they had used before and goes over to unlock her locker and get her tote bag. Harry’s lucky no one stole his shoes he had just left under the bench with no care in the world, she thinks as she walks back over and sits beside him. She unties her skates and is slipping on her boots before Harry can even untie one of his skates. Y/N puts the guards on her skates and places them into her tote bag before turning to look at Harry, noticing the pained look in his face as he bends forward to work on the laces of his other skate.

“Did you need help?” She asks him.

“No,” Harry pauses to hiss in pain, “I’m fine,” he adds, but Y/N just rolls her eyes and scoots over on the bench till she’s nearly pressing right up against Harry’s side, leaning down in order to work on his laces.

Harry watches her nimble fingers untie and loosen the laces, noticing how her hair falls as she bends down further. A faint smell of roses hits him with the movement of her hair as she pushes it back away from her line of sight. Harry looks away, glancing around them to see if anyone’s watching them because from any other view it may look like Y/N is giving him-

“There you go,” Y/N says with a smile and sits up again. Harry looks at his skates to see them completely loosened and ready for him to slip off easily.

“Thanks,” Harry says quietly with a smile.

After Harry has his trusty not-so-white vans on, they walk over to return his rentals and make their way out of the ice rink area of Bryant Park. Harry notices the shops around the park, the painted white frames and clean windows were rather pleasing to look at while the inside glows with soft yellow lights. He wonders what they sell, but notices Y/N hiding a yawn behind her hand and decides it’s probably best they just head home. Also, his ass really did hurt with each step he took.

“Would you like to get a hot cocoa before we walk home?” Harry suggests, pointing to the small shack that was open and looks like it serves hot drinks and a few treats maybe.

“I would love that,” Y/N answers with a bright smile.

Her heart can’t help but burst at the thought that Harry knows her so well already. Not even a month of knowing one another and he already is so much better than Mark ever was. He would never go skating with her or buy her a nice warm drink afterwards either. It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend anymore, Y/N finds herself reminding herself, which causes her heart to pitter patter in her chest again. This time thinking about how maybe Harry could maybe be her boyfriend, one day.

“Hi,” Y/N gives the small brunette at her front door a tight smile.

She’s almost thirty minutes later than Mark said she would be. But to be fair, the subway was later than usual on her way home so Y/N had only just gotten home ten minutes ago. She had texted Mark to let him know and relay the message to his assistant, but he didn’t answer, no surprise there. So, in hindsight it wasn’t the biggest deal that his pretty little assistant was late.

What the big deal was the way she just strolled into Y/N’s apartment and set the box of her things on the couch. Y/N is standing by her door still in disbelief, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the girls behaviour. When she turns around and gives Y/N a funny look while pointing around at her Christmas decor.

“It looks like Mrs Claus threw up in here,” she says.

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters and walks over to where she stood by the couch. Mark’s assistant steps back, pulling out her phone and tapping away at the screen as she seems bored to be here. “I’ll go get Mark’s things,” Y/N says, but then just as she’s about to walk away her eyes catch something red near the top of the box of her things that Mark had packed up.

She pushes her favourite Eagles shirt out of the way and hooks one finger around the lacy red fabric. The Victoria’s Secret label sticks out of the barely there red thong that’s hanging off her index finger. Y/N doesn’t recognize the underwear, she thinks as her head begins to spin. How the fuck did a pair of woman's underwear get into this box of things Mark packed up? Why would he have a red thong at his apartment that wasn’t Y/N’s? What the actual fuck? Another round of questions are about to spew in Y/N’s head as her heart beats out of her chest but then suddenly Mark’s assistant is reaching for the lacy fabric and taking it out of Y/N’s grasp.

“Oh, those are mine. Must’ve slipped in by accident,” she stammers out the words. Y/N’s head is spinning, her heart is beating out of her chest, as she puts the pieces together.

“Really? A thong just slipped into the box?” Y/N urges, narrowing her eyes at the young brunette standing in her living room. “How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?” Y/N asks and raises her voice, the anger filling her whole body now.

“Ex boyfriend,” the brunette has the guts to utter out.

“Answer the damn question,” Y/N snaps back at her.

Her face is turning red, to match the stupid thong in her hands, “uh, it’s none of your business-”

“Just tell me!” Y/N shouts, feeling like she deserves some truth in this moment. Mark’s assistant visibly gulps, avoiding Y/N’s eyes and looks all around the room.

“Like, a few months,” she mutters under her breath, still not meeting Y/N’s burning gaze.

Her whole body is shaking with the anger coursing through her. She should have known. How could she be such an idiot? She thinks while shaking her head. Of course, Mark was cheating on her during the entirety of their relationship. They were only dating for four months, meaning that for at least half of it, he was busy screwing his fucking assistant - how unbelievably cliche of him, but also how unbelievably naive of her to not guess. Y/N brings a hand to her forehand and rubs at her temple as a headache begins.

“Can I just get Mark’s stuff and go-”

“Get. Out.” Y/N spits out the words, glaring at the brunette who has the audacity to be so nonchalant about being the other woman.

“What about his things?” Mark’s assistant all but winces out the words, her dark eyebrows pulling together.

“Tell Mark to eat a dick,” Y/N sneers, taking a step towards the girl which causes her to step back. She can’t deny the bit of joy she feels at the sight of fear in the girls eyes. “And get out of my apartment, now!” Y/N shouts at the woman.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, turning around and walking to the front door.

Y/N is hot on her heels, making sure to slam to door shut behind her. The moment she’s left to herself, her apartment falling silent around her, she feels the pain settle in. Mark cheated on her with his assistant that he then had the nerve to let come over to her apartment. The realization of how embarrassing this whole situation is hits her, along with the hurt too. Regardless if it was a mutual break up, being cheated on does not feel good. Y/N sniffles, bringing a hand to her mouth as she suddenly is holding back sobs. Tears fall down her cheeks while her brain runs wild thinking of how many times Mark could have fucked his assistant and then just waltzed into her apartment and then they-

Her thoughts are cut short as she’s bolting to her bathroom, throwing the door open and bending down in front of the toilet. She lifts the seat and empties her stomach into the bowl. After a moment she’s coughing, lifting her head out of the toilet and reaching for the lever to flush away any contents that were in her stomach. Y/N grabs the hand towel to her right and brings it to her mouth, wiping away the bit of drool at her lips.

Y/N can feel the vibration from her cell phone after a moment of sitting on the bathroom floor, zoned out on the shower and thinking about how stupid she could have been to trust Mark. She lets out a short sigh and reaches into her back pocket to find her buzzing phone. Her eyes roll on instinct of seeing Mark’s contact photo taking up her screen. A part of her wants to answer, to yell and to scream at him. But a bigger part of her feels sick to her stomach again and just tired, honestly. So, she ignores the call and opens her phone to her contacts and deletes Mark all together. She goes into her photos and does a quick sweep of any photos of them together. It was something she was going to do eventually anyways, but after the news of him being a cheating piece of shit she couldn’t waste another second before getting rid of anything involving Mark.

Mark is a fucking asshole. His precious little assistant came by to drop off my few things and one of her thongs was in the box, so she spilled the beans that she had been sleeping with Mark for months. Meaning that piece of absolute trash was cheating on me like the entire time we were together. Y/N types out the message to Sammy, making sure that he knows the drama first - but also just simply because he’s her best friend.

Sammy is typing back a response as Y/N stands up from her spot by the toilet, flushing it again due to her spitting a few times into the bowl, and then she quickly washes her hands and looks up at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are red, her hairs a bit frizzy and out of place from the perfect curls she had earlier today, and her makeup is ruined. She decides to wash her face, drying it with a clean towel as her phone vibrates on the counter.

Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m going to kill him. Please tell me we have a murder plan, I know where we can hide the body. Did you want to talk about it? I can come over and bring a big bottle of tequila? Sammy sends each sentence as a separate text, adding a few choice emojis too. The knife is used many times. His enthusiasm makes Y/N chuckle but then she’s frowning again while walking out of the bathroom and to her bedroom.

Honestly, I just want to curl up in bed and cry it out some more while listening to some sad music. But I’ll keep you updated on any murder plans I think up. Y/N sends back her texts before throwing her phone down on her bed.

Letting out another sigh, Y/N strips out of her tight fitting pants and puts on a pair of grey sweatpants. Next, she takes off the collared button up shirt she had worn tucked into her pants today, hanging it back up in her closet to prevent it from getting wrinkled. Her eyes wander around her bedroom, a certain article of clothing was on her mind to put on and snuggle into bed with. Y/N smiles as she sees Harry’s black hoodie on the top of her laundry hamper. To be honest, it needed to be washed, but she needed the comfort of his oversized clothing more. So, she tugs it on, puts her hair into a messy topknot bun, and tugs down the hood before lifting the blanket and getting into bed.

Not even three songs into her ‘depressed? yeah, me too’ playlist of sad songs, there was a knock on Y/N’s front door. At first she thinks of ignoring whoever it is, but then her music is cut off as a phone call comes through. It’s Mark’s number, regardless that she just deleted his contact, she still knew his phone number. Y/N groans and gets out of bed. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she imagines Mark or that little assistant of his having the balls to come to her apartment again and demand for his few things he had left around here. Y/N narrows her eyes and unlocks her door, ready to glare at her sad excuse for an ex boyfriend - but her face instantly softens at the sight of Harry standing there.

“Nice jumper,” Harry comments. A smile on his lips as he takes in how Y/N looks in his clothing, days after he had lent it to her. But that smile vanishes when he notices the redness in her eyes and her pouting lips. “What’s wrong?” Harry asks, his voice full of worry as he fights back reaching for her and bringing her in for a hug.

Y/N sniffles, “um, I thought you were Mark, sorry,” she says in a quiet voice.

“Oh, sorry, is he coming over?” Harry questions. Suppose it made more sense for her boyfriend to comfort her during a bad day, he thinks although it tears him up inside that it can’t be him.

“No, no, he’s in Arizona, or somewhere. I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs, her voice sounding brittle, like it’s about to crack at any second, as she tries to keep herself composed in front of Harry. “I don’t really care actually, we broke up,” she reveals, her gaze down at the floor. Harry’s wearing those dirty white vans again, she wonders if he wears anything else.

They broke up, holy shit don’t freak out Styles, keep it together, Harry’s thoughts are all jumbled up at the news of Y/N and her boyfriends break up, which she is clearly very upset over, judging by her appearance and how she’s sniffling every second - bringing the sleeve of his Columbia jumper to her face to wipe her nose. Harry frowns and adjusts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” Harry says softly, “break ups can really suck,” he adds - knowing from experience just how terrible break ups can leave a person feeling.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathes out and looks up at Harry now, “but he’s kind of a trash human so it’s for the best, honestly,” she tells him, letting out a breathy chuckle while shaking her head. She shouldn’t be crying so damn much over the guy, she thinks.

“Oh, well then, fuck that guy,” Harry agrees with a nod of his head.

Y/N lets out a genuine chuckle at his words. She brings a hand, that is covered by the cuff of Harry’s hoodie, to her forehead to swipe back any crazy wispy hairs that are in her face. “So, what brought you to knock on my door?” She asks, smiling as Harry realizes he had gotten distracted by her state and forgot why he knocked at all.

“Right,” Harry chuckles, “um, a few friends of mine are in this band, it’s nothing crazy they just play at the pub a few blocks away. And I was wondering if you weren’t busy if you wanted to come with, thought it could be fun. But if you’re not in the mood to leave your home I understand,” Harry explains to her.

“No, I would love to come with,” Y/N insists. She lets out another chuckle and motions to her current appearance. “Just not looking like this, and as long as you promise there will be liquor involved in this Saturday night out.”

“I’ll buy you as many drinks as you need,” Harry promises with a smile.

“Then count me in,” Y/N says, mirroring his big dimpled smile. “Just give me some time to get ready?”

“You’ve got plenty of time, we don’t have to leave for another hour and a half,” he tells her. “I’ll let you get to it,” he adds, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he takes a step away from her doorway.

“Oh, I’ll wash the sweater and give it to you soon, by the way,” Y/N says, lifting both her arms before letting them fall to her sides. Harry just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

“Keep it as long as you need, it’s no problem, honestly,” Harry tells her while flashing a grin her way, hoping that it makes her feel even a little bit better. And it does, his casual response to her wearing his hoodie and then those dimples - it had her stomach fluttering. She gives Harry a small timid smile, tucking her chin down slightly into the collar of the hoodie as she watches his walk backwards down the hall to his door. “I’ll come knocking again in a bit,” Harry adds before he’s out of her sight and she’s closing her front door shut once again.

Y/N absentmindedly brings her hand to her mouth, biting on her nails as she stares off at her Christmas tree - though the lights are blurry due to her zoning out. You can do this, Y/N thinks and begins to give herself a pep talk of getting out of the sad break up phase and going out with Harry and his friends. Oh my god, Y/N’s eyes widen at her thoughts, what am I going to wear?

Y/N felt overdressed.

After twenty minutes of ripping apart her closet and tearing items out of her dresser drawers, she was truly tempted to just keep on Harry’s hoodie, pair it with some good jeans and some red heeled boots and call it a day. But that would be weird, showing up to hang out and meet Harry’s friends while dressed in his clothing. She was sure they were already going to assume things with him just bringing her along. Y/N didn’t need them thinking they had sex before too.

The thought had made Y/N blush like crazy as she tore off the stupidly comfortable hoodie and grabbed a silky white top that plunged low in the neckline, tying off just at her belly button, and then had long flowy sleeves. Pairing this with her trusted pair of light blue jeans, and for accessories: some chunky gold hoop earrings and layered gold necklaces to fill up the amount of skin she was showing at her chest. To top it all off, she slipped into her go-to black Balenciaga boots and long brown jacket to keep warm. After heading into the bathroom quickly, she brushed her hair through again and restyled the curls, put on a touch of light makeup, and then made sure to stick her lip gloss in her small black purse just as Harry was knocking on her door again.

Harry was dressed in a grey t-shirt with a large yellow smiley face, brown trousers and a blue and cream plaid jacket that quite literally made chills wash over Y/N’s body when she saw the whole fit - but that jacket, it made her head spin with some rather inappropriate thoughts. She’s a fashion major, can’t blame her for thinking clothing can make someone even more attractive. But even then she should have gotten the vibe of this evening and changed into something more casual.

But she didn’t, so now as she’s walking into a dive bar a few blocks away from the apartment building, she feels very out of place. Everyone’s wearing t-shirts and jeans, it smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes, and was definitely not the place to wear a silky white top that cost about five-hundred-dollars.

“You alright?” Harry's voice is soft and closer, as he steps directly behind Y/N after walking into the bar.

He notices how she crossed her arms at her chest and seemed to tense up almost immediately after walking in. Y/N shivers at the feeling of Harry’s breath falling over her exposed neck, having pushed her hair to lay on her left shoulder while he stood over her right. Y/N is still looking around the bar, trying to put together who may be Harry’s group of friends in this crowded bar.

“Y/N?” Harry tries again, this time placing a delicate hand on the small of her back - barely touching her, that he’s not even sure she’s noticed through her thick jacket. But she does, and she feels dizzy at the sweet gesture.

“Yeah,” she sighs, blinking a few times before looking to her right shoulder at Harry. He’s lips are so close, she thinks while trying her best to keep her eyes on his eyes. “Just feeling a little overdressed,” Y/N admits with a tight smile.

Harry shakes his head, “you look fine, better than fine actually. You look amazing,” Harry watches as Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips for just a split second. He smiles but clears his throat, finding that they’re both blushing at his comment now. “As any FIT student in New York City should, of course,” he adds on to try and make his compliment a little less obvious.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/N smiles.

When Harry saw Y/N for the second time that evening, it was like day and night from the hour before when she answered her door in his hoodie. She looked incredible, and was so out of his league. Dressed like she was going to a photoshoot, hair flowing down her back perfectly, and accessories that made him visibly gulp - he was a sucker for some gold jewelry on a girl, it was a weird weakness of his. And now, standing in the dim lighting of this dingy dive bar, she did look a little out of place, but in the best way possible, like she shined too bright to be in just a dark and depressing place.

“This way,” Harry says, leading the way to where he notices his friends are sitting at a table. They thankfully got his texts about him bringing Y/N with him and had two seats open for the both of them.

“Should we stop at the bar and get a drink?” Y/N asks. She’s honestly unsure how the service works at a place like this. To be honest, she hadn’t been in too many dive bars in her years.

Harry stops, looks behind him at her, and shakes his head. “We have a waitress that works basically every night my friends play, so she’ll come by and get our drinks for us,” he explains to Y/N. She nods, giving him a tight smile, and Harry can’t help but notice how she’s still got her arms crossed at her chest. Is she uncomfortable here? Maybe he can make some shit excuse after the first few songs and get her home.

Harry notices as he’s turned towards Y/N just how much attention is on her. He’s not surprised, seeing how he already realized how much she sticks out in a place like this, but he doesn’t quite enjoy seeing every male’s - and a few girls too - eyes in this place on the girl he’s brought with him. So, he makes the quick decision of holding out his hand for Y/N to take. She looks at Harry’s outstretched hand and feels her breath get caught in her throat. Playing it off, she smiles and reaches forward, watching as his much larger hand envelopes hers and tugs gently to get them moving again. Y/N’s stomach is already full of butterflies and her head is spinning at them holding hands for all of ninety seconds it takes to get to his table full of friends - she needs a drink, stat.

Harry lets go of Y/N’s hand as he approaches his friend's usual table and has to bring his arms up in order to hug Adam, who’s throwing himself into Harry at the sight of him. Harry huffs out a laugh, making a comment about how drunk Adam must be already, to which he responds by smacking Harry’s back a few times and laughing with him. Y/N can’t help it as the corners of her lips turn up into a small smile at the sight of Harry engulfed in a hug by a man bigger than him. As she’s watching their interaction, she notices how everyone else is watching her. Y/N’s smile falls right away and she finds herself crossing her arms at her chest again.

“Everyone,” Harry speaks a bit louder in order to get everyone's attention as he turns around and holds his arm out to Y/N, which she takes as her singal to step forward for an introduction and smiles timidly at the group of four others at the table. “This is Y/N, Y/N, this is everyone,” Harry announces, smiling at his friends - catching Mitch’s smug look in return.

“Hi,” Y/N says, her voice that soft and gentle tone that he had grown to like, quite a lot, actually.

“I’m Tom,” he’s the first to speak up, offering a hand to Y/N to shake, which she turns just a bit to her left in order to properly greet Harry’s friend. Tom’s got bleached hair that’s not styled and laying flat on his forehead, his roots are a dark brown that match the mustache and bit of bread he’s got. Y/N notices the few different necklaces around his neck while he’s wearing a simple outfit of a black long sleeve and black jeans.

“Jenny,” the woman sitting to Tom's left reaches over the table in order to shake Y/N’s hand. She’s also got bleached hair, and a dazzling smile too. Y/N notices the equally dazzling ring on her finger and she glances down at Tom’s hands to see a wedding band, assuming they are married due to them sitting so closely.

“Mitch,” a long haired young man speaks up just as Y/N and Jenny drop their hands. Y/N meets his gaze and blinks a few times, feeling slightly intimidated by him. Regardless of how he seems like the scrawniest at the table, his eyes just sort of bring Y/N to a stop, but she recovers swiftly and gives him a smile, returning the wave he gives her as it’s too far of a reach to shake hands. Mitch raises a brow at Harry, to which Harry is quick to return. Catching the interaction, Y/N imagines they are the closest of the group. Suppose he’s just a bit protective of his friend bringing a random girl around, Y/N thinks to herself before her attention is grasped by the last person sitting at the table.

“And I’m Adam, the only name you need to remember, obviously,” says the man who had hugged Harry upon their arrival. He’s smiling so widely there’s crinkles near his eyes, which make Y/N feel all warm inside as she stares into his big brown eyes. He’s got a full bread, like Mitch, and matching brown hair that looks like it may need a bit of a trim but he styles it well. Y/N likes his button up shirt that’s a dark navy with little white stars all around it, paired with some plain black jeans.

“It’s really lovely to meet you all,” Y/N says after shaking Adam’s hand, “thank you for letting me come crash your night,” she adds with another timid smile.

“Nonsense, it’s nothing special,” Jenny assures her, waving her hand too before wrapping it around her half full glass of what Y/N assumed was alcohol - or hoped, because she really didn’t want to be the only one drinking tonight.

“Ouch,” Adam scoffs jokingly, “guess your husbands best mates playing is nothing special then, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m hurt, Jenny,” Mitch nods, bringing his glass up to his lips to take a sip of the dark yellow foaming liquid in his tall glass - beer, okay, sweet, so we’re all drinking, good, Y/N thinks. She also notices that Mitch is the only one with an American accent. She wonders how this group all became friends, being from different parts of the world, where did they all connect?

Harry chuckles and shakes his head at his friends, looking to Y/N to find her smiling at his mates too. He places a hand on her elbow, causing her to look at him. He nods his head to the open seats on the other side of the table for them. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and begins to walk around the table, stepping behind Tom and Jenny’s chairs before stopping at the first one on Jenny’s right. Y/N catches Mitch’s stare, now ignoring the conversation at the table to instead watch Harry and her, but she’s quick to look away from his intense gaze and focus on taking her jacket off. Just as she tosses her jacket over the back of her chair, fixing her top in a discreet manner too, a red headed woman steps up in between her and Harry who is also slipping out of his jacket.

“Hey, Harry,” the woman greets him in a sultry tone. If Harry notices the obvious show she puts into her voice, he doesn’t act like it.

“Hey, Amy,” he says quickly, looking at his chair as he pulls it out and takes a seat.

“Running a bit behind your friends tonight, huh? What took you so long?” She asks. Seems she's rather observant of Harry’s presence, Y/N thinks, while she takes her seat and looks anywhere but to her right where the red head - fake red dye too, it was so obvious - back was mere inches away from her.

“I love your top, it’s so stylish,” Jenny comments, causing Y/N to look to her left at Jenny’s dazzling smile again.

“Thank you,” Y/N says, “this may not be the place to wear it, seems more like a casual band tee kind of place,” she notes, narrowing her eyes while looking around at the bar around them. Noticing now just how many neon signs there were in the dark space. The biggest was on the wall behind the small stage, which every table was facing. The bar was at the back of the bar and there were booths lining the wall closest to the door, then a couple of pool tables and gambling machines in the far right of the bar. Y/N had spent too much time in high maintenance bougie bars to find any of this remotely normal - but she didn’t hate it.

“Rubbish, you look hot, definitely got people in here questioning their wardrobe,” Jenny states, gaining Y/N’s attention again, “hell, next time I’m stepping it up to match this energy,” she adds, waving her hands at Y/N’s outfit.

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “well thanks, but you look incredible already! There’s no need.”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupts the girls suddenly.

Y/N lets out a small breath before turning to face what she’s been ignoring. The flirtatious red head and Mitch’s strong stare. Y/N raises her eyebrows at Harry. She completely ignores how the waitress now stood facing both their chairs, but she did notice how her hand was resting on the back of Harry’s.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Harry asks her, lips turning up into a smile. He can’t help himself, he finds himself smiling so much around her he’s sure he has wrinkles already.

“Oh,” Y/N says, finally looking at the waitress now. Her dark makeup made her blue eyes pop, it was a bit smudged but Y/N assumes she’s too busy working to notice. The waitress, Amy - Y/N reads her name tag, pinned on her tight black v neck shirt that has the bar's name on it - is staring at her, clearly forcing a smile while waiting for Y/N’s answer. “I’ll have tequila and soda water, bring a few lime slices on the side too,” Y/N orders, knowing exactly how Upper East Side she sounds, “please,” she adds with a forced smile that she mirrors from Amy.

“Coming right up,” Amy nods before turning away, not without a lingering gaze on Harry though.

Her obvious fake customer voice was rather annoying, Y/N thinks as her eyes follow her walking back to the bar. She takes note of the crowd around the bar, many waving at the one bartender stationed behind the bar. He looks older and is struggling to keep up with the rush of people. When Y/N turns back around, to face the table again, she catches Harry eyes on her. She scrunches up her nose at him and he chuckles before their attention is taken away by Adam’s deep voice.

“So, Y/N, you're this bloke’s neighbour, huh?” He questions, nodding his head to Harry. Y/N smiles and nods, sitting back in her chair while folding her hands between her thighs.

“Yeah, we just met in passing and ended up becoming friends,” she states, catching Harry nodding in the corner of her eye while he rests an arm on the table and faces towards her as he leans slightly into Mitch. To which Mitch responds by pushing his shoulder gently, making Harry’s smile widen at how he manages to bother his friend so easily.

“Give us the tea. How shit of a neighbour is he?” Adam asks, causing everyone at the table to chuckle.

“Hey,” Harry playfully whines at his friends.

“He’s fine, great even,” Y/N tells them, earning another smile from Harry as he watches her.

“Surprising considering he’s a shit roommate,” Mitch comments after taking another long sip of his beer. Harry turns in his chair and glares at Mitch, earning a smirk from him in return.

“I am not,” Harry grumbles.

“When were you two roommates?” Y/N asks, finding herself bringing a hand up to adjust her necklaces. Anything to keep her nervous hands busy. Suppose making new friends wasn’t her biggest strength, it was a rather nerve wracking experience to be honest.

“We just room together when we travel for any work stuff,” Harry answers, meeting her eyes for only a brief second before he’s looking back at Mitch. “Mitch here just likes his beauty sleep, while I have a pretty set morning routine I like to stick to,” Harry explains, looking back at Y/N as he finishes talking.

“Yeah, that starts at like six in the morning like a crazy person,” Mitch huffs jokingly.

“Six is way too early,” Y/N agrees, nodding along with Mitch. “At least give the man till nine,” she adds.

“He’s just being dramatic,” Harry states. Mitch mumbles something under his breath before taking another sip of his beer. Sounded a bit like “say’s the drama queen himself” but Y/N isn’t sure. Regardless, the interaction makes her smile. Just as she’s about to make another comment, Amy returns with hers and Harry’s drinks. Setting his down first with a smile before turning to Y/N and placing the glass of tequila and a small dish of limes too.

“Thank you,” Y/N says. Doesn’t matter if she thought Amy had an attitude problem, Y/N had manners.

“Anything else for the table? Another refill for you boys before you head up on stage?” Amy asks, ignoring Y/N completely and instead turning her back on her and looking at Mitch and Adam. Y/N notices how she leans her body into Harry a bit, her arm resting on the back of his chair again. If Harry notices, he’s oblivious to her motives. It almost makes Y/N laugh at how Harry’s ignoring her.

“Please,” Mitch nods, lifting his glass to finish off the rest of his beer. Y/N tries to hide her facial expression as she is impressed with how Mitch manages to gulp down the beer so fast, instead bringing her focus to her own drink - which she was looking forward to downing herself honestly.

She picks up a lime wedge and squeezes it over her glass, watching the juices squirt out and into her glass. After she stirs it with her straw, she brings it to her lips and gulps back nearly half of it. Y/N suddenly feels her phone buzzing in her jean pocket. She sits up slightly in order to slide it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. It’s Mark’s number again. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she declines the call and sets her phone screen down on the table before grabbing ahold of her drink again and having another sip. He sure has some nerve to continue to call numerous times, Y/N thinks as she zones out from whatever Harry and his friends were talking about.

“Y/N grew up in the city, actually,” Harry states. Y/N raises her eyebrows and looks around the table to see everyone’s looking at her now. She’s missed what they were talking about prior so she just spit balls it here and smiles.

“Um, yeah, born and raised,” she nods, “I noticed you all have quite a jumble of accents, where are you all from?” Y/N asks, looking towards Tom and Jenny as they begin to explain where they were separately from before meeting in London.

Harry watches Y/N while his friends speak, mostly because he already knows everything there is about their lives, but also because he likes watching Y/N. Taking in her small mannerisms like how she talks with her hands quite a lot, and how she rubs her ankles together under the table as she listens to Adam talk about his wife and kids back home. They all chat amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing too, for nearly thirty minute before Mitch and Adam are whisked away to the stage. Harry feels his chest bursting as he sits back and watches Y/N interact with his friends as if they are her own. He smiles when she looks his way, her cheeks howling as she sucks on the straw of her second drink - nearly finishing it while staring at him. Harry has to break the gaze as his thoughts run a different less innocent route, causing him to readjust how he’s sitting and clearing his throat just as the lead singer of the band introduces them.

“So, why aren’t you in the band?” Y/N asks as the beginning chords of their opening song play out. She’s leaning her elbow on the table, resting her head in the palm of her hand while turning her head to Harry - shutting out Jenny and Tom completely but they’re too busy watching the band to care.

“Bold of you to assume I have enough talent to be in a band,” Harry says with a smirk. Y/N rolls her eyes and reaches for her glass, bringing the straw between her lips and finishing off the tequila and soda water with three squeezed lime slices in it - Harry watched her prepare her drink both times, finding himself intrigued by her drink of choice.

“You are definitely talented enough,” Y/N says, “from the bit I’ve heard through the walls, you’re great with a guitar and I’m assuming I’m right considering that your job revolves around music.”

“Well, they already have a guitar player,” Harry notes, nodding his head towards Mitch who’s strumming away on his guitar. “And he’s one of the best in the business so if I did have any talent, he wipes me out without a question,” Harry insists.

Y/N is about to respond but then the band is starting to really get into the song. She turns her head, sitting up straight again, and watches the band perform. They’re really good, she thinks and starts to bob her head along to the song. Harry tries to not be obvious, but he stares at her for a few moments before facing the stage to watch his mates as well. He smiles as he watches her get into the music, nodding along with the bass line and tapping her foot to the drums. They’re performing one of Harry’s songs. He had written it a couple years back when he had finally settled into New York, hence the title ‘Ever Since New York’. He didn’t sell the song to any big artist, instead he kept it within his personal folder and when Mitch asked if his and Adam’s band could borrow it Harry said yes. It was one of the few personal songs he would let his friends borrow, others were too much of him to let someone else sing.

Y/N is seriously enjoying herself. The tequila has hit her, settling into her body with a constant buzz, and this band was so good. She’s shamelessly swaying her body in her chair and nodding her head back and forth with the beat. To be fair, so was everyone else at the table. Jenny matched her energy perfectly, even throwing an arm around her shoulders as the course of their third song picked up - Jenny knew the lyrics and sang along, causing the two of them to erupt into laughter afterwards. After Jenny turns her attention back to her husband, Y/N looks at Harry and notices him lightly singing along while bobbing his head too. She smiles and ends up watching him instead of the band for maybe a little too long. He turns his head and catches her stare, raising a brow but she just shakes her head and leans closer to him to ensure he can hear her before speaking.

“They’re really good,” she compliments, “like a lot better than some of the mainstream artists I’ve seen recently,” she adds on just as the band finishes up another song.

“Yeah, they are,” Harry nods in agreement, “but the bands really just a hobby for all of them since they are all involved within the industry already.”

“Oh, that’s sick though,” Y/N says, “not everyone’s hobby includes filling up a dive bar in New York City every weekend with people singing along to your songs,” she exclaims. She had looked around the room earlier during the last song to see it wasn’t just the bandmates' friends that knew the words to their songs. Majority of the people in the bar were singing too, clearly being regulars to their sets.

Amy arrives at their table again, setting down everyone's refills in a rush, thankfully being too busy to stop and flirt with Harry. Is that jealousy, Y/N? She questions herself in her head. She ignores her thoughts and brings her new drink to her lips, not even bothering with the lime slices this time as she’s feeling a bit drunk now and honestly could care less. As the band opens their next song with some strong drums and an incredible electric guitar melody, the crowd goes a bit crazy. Y/N furrows her brows and looks at the people at her table, Tom and Jenny are also hollering at the band while Harry is chuckling. He meets her eyes before echoing the crowd and cheering on his friends. Y/N’s eyes widen and she huffs out a laugh before she grabs her phone quickly and opens her Instagram.

Just in time, she opens her Instagram stories as the song picks up and the small crowd that had formed overtime at the front of the stage starts to dance around. Everyone is cheering and singing along, causing Y/N’s jaw to drop in pure amazement. She holds down the button to record and gets a quick ten second video of the band rocking out while the bar sings and goes nuts as the bass line played by Adam kicks in and their drummer flings his body around to play one of the most addicting beats they’ve played so far. Y/N shakes her head and swipes a filter on before tapping on the screen, turning to face Harry - who’s already watching her, of course.

“Does the band have an Instagram?” She asks. To which Harry just shrugs in response, because he really isn’t too sure - he’s not hugely into social media himself.

“They do!” Jenny says with excitement, Y/N turns in her seat and grins at Jenny as she spells out the bands Instagram handle. “I keep trying to get them to stay active on it but they barely do,” she states.

Y/N slips her drink that she holds in one hand and taps ‘post to story’ on her phone that in her other hand. “Well, they might get, like, a few notifications flood in since I tagged them in my story,” Y/N tells her.

“Oh yeah?” Jenny questions. “Are you big on Insta?”

“It’s kind of grown over the years, I just hit half a million last week actually,” Y/N states. Her words cause both Jenny and Tom’s jaws to drop. Suppose it’s quite a big number, Y/N thinks.

“That’s insane, oh my god,” Jenny says, “is social media like your job then?” She asks. Y/N notices how both Tom and Harry are more interested in hearing about her Instagram than the band’s next song, to be fair it is a slower tune, but still it shocks her a bit.

“Um, not really,” Y/N licks her lips, “I have a career at a fashion studio in the city, we style the city’s elite and some celebrities, do their personal shopping and all that. But the social media thing is really just a little add on, I guess,” Y/N explains, pausing a few times as she feels a bit nervous telling them about her following. Some people saw it as a clout thing, asking for shoutouts and tags so her followers would get their follower count up. While others thought it was childish and weird that she was kind of like an influencer in a way.

“Wow,” Harry says, his voice gets Y/N’s attention as she looks towards him now, “how didn’t I know this?” He questions with a chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “it’s really just like a hobby, barely even that.”

“Like how the band is for Mitch and Adam,” Harry nods.

Y/N smiles and nods with him, “exactly.”

“You’re definitely the coolest girl Harry knows, by the way,” Jenny states, bringing Y/N’s attention back to her left where she sat. Y/N laughs and brushes her hair back over her shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N disagrees and shakes her head, reaching for her drink again to take a few sips.

“No, you definitely are,” Harry corrects her, having a sip of his own drink as well. Y/N puts down her glass and smiles, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into her seat.

“I mean, if you say so,” she says in a joking tone. Jenny, Tom and Harry all chuckle, which makes Y/N laugh along with them. The band is talking to the crowd now, mentioning that their weekly gig will not be happening next week due to the holidays. Then they’re explaining something about their next and final song, thanking the crowd before the song starts up.

“This was their first song as a band,” Tom tells Y/N. She smiles and nods, appreciating the insight from him.

The song is catchy, still fitting the bands vibe but definitely isn’t as good as some of the other songs they had played already. Y/N decides to take a final snap of the band on stage on her Instagram story. Mitch’s head is down, his hair falling forward that she can barely tell that it’s him, while Adam is grinning at the crowd which makes Y/N smile as she swipes on a filter to lighten the picture some and types out ‘new fave band alert’ as her caption, finding a red siren gif quickly before posting it to her story. As the song comes to an end the bar erupts into a roar of cheers. Y/N brings her hands to her mouth and hollers along with the bar, grinning as she watches the four boys of the band come together and bow. As they bend down Harry whistles, having both his hands at his mouth, to show his support to his friends.

Y/N widens her eyes and turns quickly to look at Harry, surprised by the loud whistle that came from him. He matches her look, widening his eyes and playing dumb as he slowly lowers his hands from his face. Y/N laughs, slapping a hand on his arm and leaning back, immensely entertained by his actions. Harry laughs along with Y/N till they both calm down and shake their heads. Just as Y/N is about to say something her phone starts to buzz on the table from an incoming call. She looks down at the screen and sees it’s Mark - again.

“Ugh,” Y/N groans and hits decline, unlocking her phone to go to her phone app. “How the hell do you block a phone number?” She asks aloud to no one in particular.

“Is it Mark?” Harry questions in a low voice, leaning towards Y/N to keep his words between them. Y/N frowns but nods her head once. The tequila in her system starts to mess with her, her screen becoming fuzzy as she thinks about all the crap she learnt about Mark earlier today. And now he was ruining her fun out with Harry and his friends.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Y/N asks, turning to Jenny since she would know the location of the women's bathroom over Harry.

“Down the hall in the back corner over there,” she points in that direction and before anyone else can say something Y/N is on her feet with her phone in hand and heading to the bathroom.

Harry looks over his shoulder as he monitors Y/N’s move across the bar. He’s worried about her, obviously, but he’s also watching to make sure no douche bag makes a grab for her. Although he is sure that she could handle it herself. As he turns back to the table he sees both Tom and Jenny staring at him. Harry furrows his brows and brings his drink to his lips, having the final sip of his third drink tonight. Jenny just shakes her head and looks down at her phone, he’s pretty sure she’s looking up Y/N’s Instagram. Tom’s still staring at Harry though.

“What?” Harry finally asks, setting his glass down with the few other empty ones at the centre of the table.

“So,” Tom pauses, “what’s going on here?” He questions, being annoyingly vague.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, trying his hardest to not roll his eyes.

“Well you just show up with this bombshell of a woman, who is beyond anything you could’ve described her as by the way, and we’re all just supposed to forget she’s in a relationship?” Tom questions, tilting his head just slightly to the side as he stares down Harry.

“Firstly, I’m insulted you don’t think we could just be friends,” Harry says, he’s about to continue but Mitch and Adam join the table again. They get a round of ‘good job’ from everyone before Mitch is turning to Harry and furrowing his brows.

“What were you saying before?” He asks.

“That it is just possible for Y/N and I to be friends, but also not that it’s any of your guys business cause it’s not even mine, but her and her boyfriend broke up, like, recently,” Harry informs his friends, dragging his fingertip along the condensation of his empty glass in front of him. He feels silly, having to explain himself for simply bringing along a friend to hangout tonight. But he can’t deny it feels good to know that she is single now. Only to feel bad a second later as he knows that Y/N must be hurting, judging by her drowning herself in tequila drinks and getting upset over Mark calling her.

“Well, shit,” Mitch breathes out. Harry lifts his gaze to find his best mate with his usual smug look on his face. “What are you waiting for then, loverboy, make a move,” Mitch coaxes him.

“Did you not hear me when I said they broke up recently? As in maybe I should just let that settle for a while before I try and make any sort of move,” Harry says.

“Well if you don’t eventually and you let this one go, then you’re a bloody idiot,” Adam resorts, “Y/N is a prize, one evening knowing her and I understand your little crush, H,” he adds with a smile.

“Trust me,” Harry huffs out a breath and shakes his head a bit, “I’m well aware. But seriously guys, I’m just going to let it play out and not force anything. I’m happy to just be her friend, honestly,” he explains. Everyone nods, seeming to understand where Harry is at now with Y/N. Perfect timing, Amy shows up with refills for everyone to get the attention of the group off Harry.

“So, Harry,” Amy says after setting down everyone glasses, turning her body away from Jenny and the empty chair for Y/N to completely face him - her boobs practically in his face. He gives her a polite smile, leaning back in his chair in order to get some distance from her. “Who’s this new girl you brought with you? A cousin or something?” She asks, her body seeming to lean even further towards him as she speaks.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to let Amy know her ridiculous assumptions were wrong. When he hears Y/N’s voice from behind where Amy stood. “Classy,” she mutters under her breath.

Amy rolls her eyes rather dramatically before she turns away from Harry and looks at Y/N as she’s pulling out her chair and returning to her seat. “What did you say?” Amy asks, her voice rather snarky in Y/N’s opinion.

“I said, wow you’re hair colour, it’s like, so classy, I love it,” Y/N resorts, putting on a smile just as fake as her words.

Amy’s lips part, her eyes narrowing at Y/N’s bored stare. Whatever bitchy response she has lined up for Y/N is cut short as Amy’s name is being yelled by the bartender. Her gaze falls behind Y/N, looking at who had called for her, before she meets Y/N’s eyes again. She glares again, huffs out a short breath, and then is nearly stomping away from the table like a child who didn’t get the Barbie doll she wanted to play with - or rather the Ken doll. Y/N’s lips turn up slightly into a smug smile as a feeling of pride flushes over her.

“Yup, it’s official,” Jenny says, bringing Y/N back to reality as she looks away to her left. Jenny is grinning as she brings an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into her side. “You’re one hundred percent the coolest girl Harry knows,” she states, earning a round of laughter from the group.

“You handled Amy like a pro,” Adam notes, then jutting his chin towards Harry, “H is always too nice to let her know how annoying she’s being.”

Y/N smiles and looks at Harry in the corner of her eye, noticing the slight tint of pink upon his cheeks. She flips her hair over her shoulder and shrugs, “I grew up dealing with the snobby Upper East Side kids, Amy is harmless, believe me,” Y/N ensures the group before grabbing for her drink and sucking back a few good gulps.

The group around the table begins to talk about the performance, compliments and praises to Mitch and Adam all around of course. Even a few strangers come up to give them a pat on the back and ask for a picture. They’re like royalty in this dingy little bar.

Y/N is enjoying sitting back and simply being around people, letting herself push away any thoughts of Mark. She had blocked his number while she waited in line for the washroom, then responded to Sammy’s million texts asking where she was and with who - when she told him she was with Harry he just replied with ‘#TeamHarry for the win’, which she rolled her eyes at but ended up smiling down at her phone and texting him a thumbs up back.

When Y/N finished with her business in the rather dirty washroom - the sink barely even worked, it was not ideal - and she saw Amy at the table beside Harry again, Y/N let her jealousy fly. Then when Amy started leaning so far into Harry that her boobs nearly touched his chest, Y/N just couldn’t help it. It was like her vision turned red suddenly, her chest swelling up as she tried to bite down on her tongue. But she couldn’t, she was too annoyed by Amy’s less than classy actions towards her customer.

“Hey,” Harry’s low voice snaps Y/N out of her own world. She blinks and focuses on him, feeling herself melt at the sight of his smile. “Are you okay?” He asks, more than likely referring to her quick departure to the bathroom after Mark called.

“Yeah,” she assures him with a smile and a nod. “I blocked his number, I don’t want to hear his excuses. I could really care less,” she explains to Harry. He nods in response and is about to say something else, about how Mark is a real idiot for whatever he did to hurt her. But Y/N sits up, places a hand on his arm that was resting on the table between then, and gives him another smile. “But enough about him, seriously, I’m feeling a little drunk and having way too much fun here with you to be bothered anymore,” Y/N tells him.

“Alright,” Harry smiles, peering at Y/N as his heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s pretty sure his skin’s tingling from where her hand rests. But it doesn’t last long before she moves, reaching for her glass - that she then raises into the air.

“I would like to make a toast,” Y/N announces to the table, gaining everyone’s attention and smiles, “to Mitch and Adam’s absolutely amazing performance, new friends, and to having a lovely holiday season,” Y/N beams as Harry and his friends cheer in agreement and everyone lifts their glasses into the air.

The group ends up buying shots after, then another round of drinks, and then more shots. Y/N is laughing so much her stomach hurts. She hasn’t been this happy while enjoying others' company in far too long, outside of work of course. Harry makes another joke, teasing Adam, but Adam dishes it back right away. Y/N finds herself letting her hand slip to Harry’s thigh as she throws her head back with laughter at Adam’s absurd comment. Everyone else is too focused on the banter to notice, but Harry does of course. He’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels her delicate fingers spread over his thigh. He gulps, unsure if he wants to break whatever drunken trance that Y/N may be in. Does she realize that she’s put her hand on his thigh? He wonders. But his thoughts are quickly answered as she caresses her thumb along his pants before lifting her hand slowly off of him altogether.

Y/N’s leaning on her elbow again, her chin propped up in the palm of her hand as she looks at Harry. He’s so hot, her drunk self thinks as she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down for a second time since she had placed her hand on his thigh. It happened by accident to be honest, but she wasn’t sorry about it. God, she was just itching to touch Harry. His thigh, his arm, maybe rub gentle circles on the back of his neck as he talked amongst his friends, but she wanted to touch his lips more than anything. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty pink lips as he replies to whatever whoever said to him.

Harry catches Y/N’s glossy eyes staring at him in the corner of his eye. He rolls his lips into his mouth to stop himself from smiling. He likes how she can’t seem to keep her eyes off of him, because he does the same thing maybe a little too often. Harry turns his head and meets her gaze, giving her a smirk as she playfully narrows her eyes at him. Her cheeks are rosy from the amount of liquor she’s consumed, while her eyes truly are a bit glossed over from her being more than tipsy. She’s so hot, he thinks, as his eyes shamelessly roam over her appearance. Even hours later at this shitty bar and she still looks breathtaking. Harry’s gaze lingers a little too long on her chest, admiring the way the top fit her breasts; was she wearing a bra? Oh how he wishes he could find out.

Y/N adjusts her position in her chair, letting her left arm fall into her lap while she lays her right arm beside Harry’s. She is liking this game they seem to be playing with their eyes. She sits up straight, knowingly sticking out her chest just a bit as she watches Harry’s eyes fall to her breasts. But she keeps it classy, of course, unlike some people. Y/N lets out a breathy sigh as she looks at Harry’s hand mere inches away from her right hand. Those rings, she thinks, they could do some real damage. Her thighs clench involuntarily, her mind falling into a fog as she imagines them leaving red marks on her bare bottom or how cool they would feel against her throat.

“I really like your rings, have I told you that before?” Y/N’s voice is hoarse, but she doesn’t care as her pinky reaches over to touch the large gold ‘S’ that rests on his pinky. The metal is cool to her touch, just as she imagines. Feeling brave - thanks to her good friend, tequila - she lifts her hand slightly in order to comfortably drag her fingertip over the ‘S’ shape a couple times.

“No, you-” Harry clears his throat, feeling it become dry at the sight of her doe eyes staring at his fingers. His mind goes somewhere dirty, thinking of somewhere else his fingers could go. Tangled in her hair, wrapped around her throat, inside of her. Harry licks his lips before he speaks again, “you haven’t, but thank you.”

“Which is your favourite?” Y/N questions, her finger still lazily tracing the ring on his pinky finger.

“Quite like the inicals,” Harry answers, smirking as she glances up to peer at him through her lashes. She mirrors his smug look easily.

“A very narcissistic answer,” Y/N hums, teasing him. Harry playfully narrows his eyes at her, which she returns but ends up giggling after a moment as he sticks out his tongue at her. These inappropriate thoughts have got to just slide away for a moment, Y/N thinks with a deep breath.

“We’re going to head out,” Tom announces to the table suddenly, helping Jenny out of her chair. Jenny’s beautiful dazzling smile is on her husband as he helps her into her coat. They’ve both had quite a bit to drink too and Harry notes how Jenny latches onto Tom’s side after they’re in their coats.

“I’m still shocked you two both came out tonight,” Harry says.

“We paid big bucks for this babysitter, so they better keep it together for at least another four hours,” Tom exclaims with a wink. Jenny gasps and smacks her husband on the chest as she realizes what Tom is insinuating.

“Don’t go acting like you last longer than ten minutes, bud,” Mitch taunts jokingly to his friend. Everyone laughs as Tom glares at Mitch across the table. Y/N covers her mouth with her hands, finally bringing her finger away from where it laid on Harry’s ‘S’ ring, in order to cover her chuckles.

“It was so lovely to meet you, Y/N,” Jenny gushes, letting go of Tom in order to put her arms around Y/N and hugging her tightly.

Y/N smiles into her bleached hair, squeezing her back just as tightly, “you too, Jenny,” she says.

“Don’t let H keep hiding you away now,” she says, pointing a stern finger at the two of them. Harry laughs and shakes his head at his friend.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jenny,” he tells her.

Then they’re all saying goodbye to the couple as they walk out of the half empty bar. Y/N glances around the place, noticing how it feels less scary now. Maybe it was the tequila that helped, or how comfortable she felt around Harry and his friends. A yawn suddenly makes it’s way past Y/N’s lips, she brings the back of her hand to cover it but ends up squinting her eyes closed as her whole body feels drained. She meets Harry eyes after the yawning stops, he shows her a small soft smile that makes her return it right back.

“Ready to go home?” He asks. She contemplates it for a moment, because she truthfully doesn’t want the night to end. But she decides to not fight it and nods to Harry.

Harry does practically the same thing as Tom just had. He announces his and Y/N’s departure, helps her into her coat, and lets her say her goodbyes as Adam opens his arms up for a big warm hug. Mitch only nods, waving to them both before Harry leads the way out of the bar. The cold night air blasts Y/N’s hair back, the sharp wind taking her by surprise as she blinks back tears from the cold. She puts both her hands into her coat pockets and zips it up all the way, snuggling into the warmth it will provide her on their walk home.

“I feel like Mitch doesn’t like me much,” Y/N admits after a few minutes of comfortable silence between her and Harry.

“What?” Harry shakes his head, eyebrows pinched together. “No, that’s just how he is. He’s quiet and looks all moody. Give him some time, he’ll warm up, promise.”

“I think he’s just protective of you,” Y/N says, looking up at Harry after they cross the road, “thinks I’m a threat or something.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head again,“well, it’s definitely not like that with Mitch and I, plus he’s seeing someone. Her name’s Sarah, she plays drums on a lot of tracks we write.”

“If you say so,” Y/N sighs. She looks around at the sights before them. A few other mildly drunk people wander the streets, and she notices a few homeless people too, that tore Y/N’s heart apart, as they were bunkering down in the alleyways. Harry keeps pace with Y/N the whole walk home, letting her control the speed they walked and what they talked about. She would jump from subject to subject the entire time, but Harry thought it was kinda cute that she was so drunk she didn’t even realize how quickly she changed the topic.

And all too soon, they’re in the elevator in their apartment building. Harry presses the number six button and joins Y/N on the back wall. They both lean into the railing, comfortable silence falling between them once again. But it was obviously their thoughts were anything but silent. The elevator doors open on their floor, and Harry lets her walk out first as always.

“Well this is me,” Y/N says dramatically as she approaches her apartment door. Harry chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly and letting his eyes fall to the floor for a second before meeting Y/N’s stare again. “I really did have a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells him.

“I’m glad, I did too,” he agrees.

Y/N wants to kiss him. She really really really does. But they’re both a little drunk, and she literally just broke up with Mark yesterday - or maybe technically two days ago now since it’s past midnight. But it didn’t matter, she didn’t want to be that girl. Plus she wanted to really get to know Harry and take this slow and see where it went. That didn’t stop her gaze from falling to his pretty pink lips though. Harry’s thoughts are running laps too. He wants to kiss her. But he knows she’s more than likely still hasn’t recovered fully emotionally from her break up Mark, hell not even ten hours ago she was crying because of her shitty ex boyfriend. Didn’t mean he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her though, especially when her gaze falls to his lips.

Just as quickly as they seemed to fall into some dream like state as thoughts of kissing each other float around them, they snap back to reality. Y/N blinks a few times and takes a step back, bumping into her front door. Harry clears his throat and steps back as well, towards his own front door.

“Polar Express,” Y/N says suddenly, earning a look of confusion from Harry. “We’re watching the Polar Express tomorrow, and you’re going to play me something on that guitar of yours.”

Harry lets out a chuckle and gives Y/N a smirk, “yeah, we’ll see about that.”

“You will,” she singsongs as she focuses on unlocking her door. It takes a few extra tries to get the key in but once she does she unlocks it and opens the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry smiles.

“Goodnight, H,” Y/N says softly, smiling as well, as she leans against her door to look back at him. Harry’s smile deepens at her using his nickname. She must’ve picked it up from his friends using it earlier during their time at the bar.

She gives him one last look over, knowing very well that she’s going to dream about him in that cream and blue plaid jacket - and maybe only wearing that jacket - before she shuts her door and presses her back against it as it closes. Today was a lot. But she’s beyond grateful that Harry invited her out, introducing her to his wildly unique group of wonderful friends, and letting her get a little bit drunk too. Her chest flares up as she remembers their close moment at the bar, her touching his rings, placing her hand on his thigh-

“Oh god,” Y/N all but moans out as her thoughts go right back to the place they were at before.

She shakes her head and heads to her bedroom. Harry wouldn’t be able to hear a vibration from the other side of the wall, would he? Y/N shrugs and opens her bedside table drawer to grab her vibrator, knowing just how much she needed it tonight as she imagined Harry’s hand between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so screwed, she thinks, biting her lip as she realizes, she really really really likes Harry.

>> part four <<

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

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

#harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #1dff #cstsyl #omg this took me so long i know but i really really like it and hope u guys to do!!

333 notes · View notes

babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

Danger Days - Chapter fourteen: "Love, hate, love"

Word count: 8,8K

Summary: The band is decided to take care of Joey, and for once, she is ok with that. Gerard is trying to find a way to get closer to her while Matthew... gets drunk again.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, cheating, angst, a lot of crying.

A/N: I want a friend like Mikey in my life. Do you guys think Joey will forgive Matthew? Would you do it? also, I love how honest Frank is with Joey. Gerard really hates him at this point hehehe.

Not my gif, and all this shit is fiction.

Masterlist

::: Valencia, March 11th, 2011 :::

Joey's eyes were wide opened as she laid on her bed. She hadn't slept at all. Mikey was snoring next to her. He had stayed over to take care of her after everybody left. But he fell asleep, and the girl stayed up the whole night, not able to move or to do anything but to stare at the heart locket on her bedside table. It felt like bullshit to her now. What seemed to be so romantic was now nothing but a pile of lies.

Memories kept coming to her head. All of the times together with Matthew, their whole happiness. All the days they spent working on the house he had bought for them, and all the nights they sat in their new back yard to look at the stars, drink some wine and sleep in an inflatable mattress they had put in their bedroom. But what she remembered the most was the day they met. The day their whole story together had started, and how now Joey wished to go back in time and change it all. Ignore him, never talking to him, not even being in that studio that day. Anything that might keep her from the pain she was feeling now.

She had reached the studio early that morning. She had a meeting with a band at ten to record a demo. They needed a studio drummer, and Billy, the producer, contacted her. She had learned the songs; there were just three on the setlist. That shouldn't take more than three days in the whole process, including production.

Joey went through her warm-up and stretching before Billy walked in with two cups of coffee.

- "Thank you."

- "You are gonna need it,"- he said and cut her a short smile- "As far as I can tell, these guys are hyper"- the girl smiled and nodded.

- "Noted, hyper kids."

The drummer already had a lot of practice recording with random bands and some pretty known bands too. Yet, she wasn't ready for the tornado of energy that was about to go through the door that day.

The band was pretty funny and easy-going. Their music wasn't really in Joey's favorite playlist, but she was professional enough to give her best no matter what. Their friend, though, that guy was driving her insane. This very tall thin guy with light brown hair kept jumping with every song they played. He was sugar rushed or in coke. There was no way anyone would be that energetic on his own. And he had an opinion for every part of every song. Their friends loved him, it was clear, that's why they brought him along, but Joey was trying to do her work.

- "Hey,"- he said to her at the end of the session. He hadn't talked to her in the whole day- "That was pretty cool what you did back there."

- "Thanks"- she simply answered and looked for her backpack.

- "I mean, you played amazing, but the way you managed not to kill me through the whole day, though it was clear I was driving you insane, that was outstanding"- and the girl chuckled, she hated it 'cos she didn't want to, but that had been funny indeed.

- "It took a lot of will and mental strength, I must confess, you were pretty annoying,"- she answered with a snarky smile.

- "I'm sorry in advance for the next three or four days then"- the girl sighed and nodded.

- "Thanks, I guess."

- "Hey, can I try to make it up to you?"

- "By not to eat anything with sugar or take any coffee before coming tomorrow? Because that would be awesome"- and Matthew laughed. An honest big, and sincere laugher.

- "No, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get a coffee now with me..."

- "How much coffee do you have during the day?"- the drummer asked, raising an eyebrow.

- "A lot"- he simply answered- "So, what do you say? I promise I won't be annoying, or at least just the decent amount of annoying to be tolerable."

Joey didn't know what to reply. It had been ages since anyone had asked her out, and that guy was breathtakingly hot. Was it a prank? Why would he want to go out with her?

- "How are you planning not to be annoying?"- she asked and narrowed her eyes.

- "You can pinch me every time I get annoying,"- Gubler grinned, looking pretty excited to go out with her- "I know you want to pinch me."

Joey smiled and kept her eyes on his. He gave her the most adorable puppy eyes, and not even thinking about it, she accepted.

And that was the first of a thousand coffees they shared in almost a year together. They had even talked about getting married around the same date they had started dating. But now, none of that mattered anymore.

- "Mother fucker"- she whispered and slowly got out of bed. Mikey was still asleep. She wondered around the room, not knowing what to do. She went through all the things the guys had left upon a dresser: chocolate bars, filled chocolate, M&M, fun-size Snickers, all of her favorites candies. Frank's whiskey bottle, even a Pride and Prejudice Bluray.

- "You guys are awesome,"- she whispered and grabbed a bunch of candy. She looked through her things as she ate. It felt nothing was hers anymore. It felt that wasn't her life or her clothing. Not even her mind. She was out of herself. Her phone was nowhere to be seen. Probably Mikey had it hidden, just like she had done for him when he broke up with his wife. Now the tables had turned. And it felt weird. Wrong. Bad.

Joey had a knot in her stomach as she kept eating Snicker after Snicker. Still, she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. She found Matthew's shirts among her clothes, and her body shivered at the smell of his perfume still in the fabric. She could almost see his face, hear his voice, feel his hands on her skin. The same hands that had cheated.

Tears started falling right away. Still, she couldn't stop smelling the shirt. She couldn't stop thinking about him, about his face, his kisses, everything. But yet, she was so mad, so sad, so confused. Her stomach started aching, and the girl started retching. She ran to the bathroom and puked the few candies she had eaten. That was all that was left in her stomach.

- "Bug, hey..."- Mikey appeared running and kneeled next to her.

- "I'm ok, I just... I'm still..."- the girl sighed and wiped off the tears from her face, flushing. Mikey reached the mouthwash for her- "Thank you"- Joey clumsy stood up and spat in the sink.

- "Did you get any sleep?"

- "Not really"- the honesty of her answer surprised him. He was ready to deal with a girl in denial of her state. Instead, somehow, she just answered the truth. He decided to take another shot.

- "Are you hungry?"

- "Of course not. I just puked."

- "What do you wanna do today?"

- "Stay in here, in my pajamas, and watch shitty tv. How is your schedule for today? What do you have to do?"

- "Stay here in my pajama watching shitty tv with you,"- she cut him a sweet smile as she crawled into bed again.

- "You don't have to do that, Mikey. You have to work."

- "I know I don't have to, I want to do it for you"- he made a pause, grabbed the phone, and called room service.

- "Thank you,"- she whispered and heard him asking for two breakfasts.

- "Besides,"- Mikey added, after hanging up and getting into bed with her- "It's not like I have to show up and answer questions I've answered a million times before. That's why Gerard's the lead singer. He loves the attention."

Joey smiled and hugged Mikey, resting her head on his chest as he surfed channels.

- "Yeah, he is a little diva sometimes."

- "A little? Sometimes?"- Mikey chuckled- "Oh Bug, you have no idea..."

Gerard was walking on his own after the first interview. He asked for a few minutes to get something, and Worm came along to make sure he made it alive.

- "Dude, help, what can I give Joey?"

- "Is her birthday again or something?"

- "No, she broke up with Gubler, and I need something that might cheer her up."

- "Fuck! How is she?"

- "Locked in her room... what can I give her?"

- "Chocolates."- Worm answered right away.

- "Mikey got her a million of her favorites."

- "Booze."

- "Frank got her favorite whiskey."

- "Shit... movies to kill time?"- the man looked at Gerard and nodded- "So Ray got her movies?"

- "They had like a "break up kit" in their fucking bags or something. They know what to do, what to say to her, how to comfort her. And I ended up looking at her from a distance like... awkward and out of place."- Gerard was opening himself up at his friend.

- "Well, think of something that might help her use her time and mind to refocus her into something other than the breakup. Maybe a book"- Gerard nodded and kept looking at the window glazes. Instinctively he stood outside a stationery shop. He thought about it as he looked inside. To draw was an excellent way to kill time. Would she like that?

- "Why not?"- he said and walked in. After a few minutes, he stepped out with not two but three bags filled with art supplies.

- "Did you leave anything left in the store?"- Frank asked when he saw his friend carrying so many notebooks and pencils, you could think he was starting a store of his own. The two of them, plus Ray, got into the van to go to their following interview.

- "Funny. I just got Joey a few things to help her think of something else."

- "Cool man, good idea"- Ray smiled and took a look inside- "I just checked with Mikey. They were watching a movie."

- "How is she?"- Gerard asked as the van traveled through Valencia.

- "She didn't sleep, she hasn't eaten, Mikey was fighting to get her to eat some cereal... she was crying and puking when he woke up."

Gerard's heart ached in his chest as he heard Ray's words. He needed to find a way to make her feel better. But how? How if he never got to talk to her?

- "Any news from the asshole?"- Gerard asked, and Frank nodded.

- "Mikey has her phone off, so no one knows anything about him."

- "Do you think he is gonna show up?"- the singer asked, and both Ray and Frank looked at each other.

- "I think so,"- Toro said- "He is in love with her after all."

- "After all?"- Iero turned to him and frowned- "The fucker broke her heart! I don't want him near my little Bug in a thousand years."

Gerard wanted to hit Frank after calling her "his little Bug."

- "What the fuck is his problem? She ain't his. She is mine."

- "Frank, we are her friends, and we have to support her, but if she ever decides to get back with him again, even when we both know that's nearly impossible, we have to respect her. Ok?"- Ray was very rational about it, mostly 'cos he had lived it with other friends before- "So if he gets here, we can't do anything."

- "What do you mean "we can't do anything"?"- Frank frowned right away, frustrated- "I'm not gonna let that asshole near her."

- "Me neither, man"- Gerard adds- "And I can't believe you are saying this amount of shit after how she was yesterday."

- "It's called experience, Gerard. So remember, this whole shit ain't about how mad we are with Gubler, but about how much we want our friend to be happy, no matter what!"

Ray used his "dad" voice, and his friends couldn't argue with that. That was Raymond Toro's superpower: Super Dad.

Matthew looked at his mom and sighed. He still had three more days of shooting, and he was about to quit. Gubler barely had the strength to get out of bed that morning. He hadn't eaten. He looked like shit. He didn't want to be in the movie anymore. He gave a fuck about everything. So his mother came along to work with him and sat closely, reading a book, trying to comfort him in any way. Yes, that's how much Matthew loved his mother. And he cared shit if anyone made fun of him.

- "I can't do this, mom,"- he said as he walked to her by the end of a scene, he had some time to wait for things to be ready at the following location- "I mean, what the fuck am I doing here? I have to go to her! I have to tell her that I'm sorry"- he grabbed his phone and dialed- "Still off... Yami, please listen to me. I need to talk to you. This can't be it. I need you to listen to me."

- "Voicemail full"- a computer voice warned and finished the call.

- "Shit! Shit! Shit!"- the young man hit the wall next to him a couple of times as his face turned red in anger and desperation.

- "Matthew, please calm down, you are gonna go, but you need to be calm when you meet her. You have to put yourself together first. What are you going to tell her? How are you going to approach her?"- he sighed and walked around in front of his mother.

- "I just need to talk to her now!"- he whispered, pouting. He had never needed anyone as much as he needed Joey at that moment.

- "She has to make her process too. If you run to her now, you are both going to be still hyperventilated with what happened, you are going to be irrational, you know you will, and she is going to be still so hurt and mad she won't think straight"- Matthew sighed and looked at the ground- "Let the things cool down for a few days."

- "I still need to talk to her. I have to call her."

- "Just make sure you don't sound like a madman when you get to talk to her, ok?"

- "Do I sound like a madman now?"- his mother smiled at held his chin for a second

- "As I had never heard you before... you are in love, baby, it's ok to be a madman... just... try to keep a mind straight when it comes to talking to her, don't scare her away."

Matthew nodded and sighed. His mother's words made sense, but how to calm himself down when he felt he was dying inside? He grabbed his phone and dialed. Still off.

- "Can you come over tonight?"- he wrote and sent the text to Paget, his best friend.

- "Sure, is everything ok?"

- "Tell you tonight."

The band reached Joey's room at lunchtime. They brought pizza and beer, but she didn't want either. They talked to her about their day, the interviews, and Gerard gave her his present. That was the one thing Joey was excited about. She loved drawing and coloring, though she sucked at it.

- "Thank you, Gerard!"- she said and cut him a shy smile- "I wanted to get some of these things for a while and never did"- and the singer smiled proudly. He had finally done one thing right.

- "Hey, if you want, I can teach you a few things so you can start your comic,"- he said and sat next to her.

- "Thanks..."- she nodded but didn't look into the idea. Gerard was probably pushing too hard. But he had gotten so excited with her reaction he thought it was the solution to the whole situation. Nothing was farther from the truth.

- "Come on, Bug, we brought your favorite pizza,"- Frank said and sat next to her- "It has all the bacon in Spain."

- "I'm not hungry,"- she whispered and didn't take her eyes from the art supplies.

- "You've barely eaten,"- Mikey said and held her hand, looking at her so worried, it made Joey feel guilty for having her friend like that. It wasn't fair.

- "Bróðir, I am ok. I ate that cereal you gave me."

- "You threw it up twenty minutes later"- she closed her eyes and sighed- "Do you always throw up when you are upset?"- and she nodded. She didn't want to say a word about it. When Joey was a kid, she had many anxiety problems; she always threw up when she felt stressed. It was the way her body worked to cope with whatever it was that she was feeling.

- "Just a slice, I don't care if you vomit it,"- Frank insisted. She held it and took the tiniest bite possible in a poor attempt to make her friend happy. He just kept looking at her, forcing her to take another bite.

- "Do you have to go to work after lunch?"- she whispered and looked at her fingers playing with the bacon on her pizza.

- "Yeah, Bug. Mikey should probably go shower, but I'm gonna stay with you."

- "I'm not a baby, Ray"- the girl frowned- "I can be alone."

- "I know you can, I just feel like staying here, watch a bunch of movies... maybe sleep a little, I don't wanna go to work,"- Ray simply replied.

- "Guys, I know you are being too cute and adorable right now, and from the bottom of my heart, I am forever grateful for it, but I can stay alone. Nothing is gonna happen."

Mikey moved closer to Joey in the bed and wrapped an arm around her.

- "Sure, you are gonna be ok, but right now, we just wanna be with you... just today, ok? Tomorrow you are on your own,"- she turned and raised an eyebrow at him- "I promise."

- "Fine..."

- "Now eat"- he commanded and moved her pizza closer to her.

- "When are you going to give me my phone back?"- she asked after a while.

- "Tomorrow"- Mikey simply replied.

- "What's the plan for tomorrow, by the way?"- Joey asked and looked at her friends- "Do we have to be at the festival the whole day?"

- "No, but we have to be there early,"- Gerard said and chewed his food- "We have to do some press there, and you should come along."

- "I'm good, thanks."

- "No, really, it was great when we did that radio with you, and you've been great all along this tour, so... it would be great if you were there with us... how many times did I just say "great"?"- Joey smiled at Gerard and looked back at her pizza.

- "Like a million times, dude,"- Frank answered- "Hey, where's the veggie pizza?"

It was very heartwarming and, at the very same time, very overwhelming for Joey to feel that amount of love from her friends. She didn't see it coming. That afternoon, she and Ray watched Pride and Prejudice together, and she even allowed herself to share a few tears during those 90 minutes. Ray pretended he never noticed, and that made her happy.

She picked a bunch of other chick flicks she liked, and her friend watched them all, sleeping a little bit from time to time. Joey wasn't able to close an eye. Every time she took her mind off the movie, she thought of Matthew and started crying again.

By the time the rest of the band arrived again, with more booze, more food, and a whole bag of candies, Ray had watched Clueless, 10 things I hate about you and Ever After. He was pretty surprised to know Joey could recite from memory most of the dialogues in those movies. He never thought she could be so... girly.

- "Hey Bug!"- Mikey practically ran to her- "What are you doing?"

- "Coloring this mandala book Gerard got me"- it felt like she was a little kid and Ray was her nanny- "I don't know why people say this is relaxing; I find it pretty stressful"- Mikey looked at it and smiled.

- "Looks pretty cool to me."

- "Let me see"- Gerard said and walked to her, sitting for the very first time, next to her- "Yeah, that looks stressful"- he whispered, and she smiled- "But there was another coloring book in the bag."

- "I feel like I'm five years old,"- she whispered and looked at the singer in the eyes. He cut her a big smile and grabbed a notebook from his bag.

- "I stopped to buy ten comic books today, so that would make two of us."

- "What did you get?"- that conversation kept going. Gerard couldn't believe it.

- "I saw a few X-Men issues in Spanish, and I thought it would be a nice addition to my collection."

- "Nice..."- Frank moved closer and messed with the girl's hair.

- "I brought you a Dr. Pepper,"- he whispered and kissed her cheek.

- "Thank you, Jersey."

- "I also got you fries"- he smiled and raised an eyebrow- "You can't say no to fries..."- and damn it, Frank was right- "Cheesy fries"- he added with a low sexy voice.

- "I hate you, Frank."

- "It's time for you to face it, Iceland, you love me, you can't live without my pretty face making you laugh"- he teased her and chuckled. She kept her eyes in his and cut him a short smile.

- "Fuck you, Jersey"- she whispered but smiled and snuggled closer to him- "I love you. You are a psycho brother with the ability to make me want to punch you."

- "You are that hot second cousin I would nail,"- Frank answered with a chuckle and a low voice. Joey giggled and hit him simultaneously. Gerard froze, thinking there was no way Iero could be so honest with her about his thoughts, not making her mad.

- "Shut up. Why do you always ruin every single moment we've got together?"

- "'Cos... you laugh when I do, and I love to hear you laugh"- the girl chuckled and blushed.

- "Just give me the damn fries."

Gerard looked at his friend in shock. He had flirted, and she smiled. What the fuck was that? It was so clear everybody was closer to her than him... and she told him she loved him.

- "Damn it! You are not going anywhere tonight until you get fucking closer to this girl."

Around midnight, Ray and Frank stood up. Joey was still laid on her bed, wide awake, watching Lethal Weapon with Mikey.

- "Kids, you should go to bed"- Ray announced and put on his shoes- "We've got a big day tomorrow, and you should all rest, especially you, Bug. The dark rings under your eyes will not be covered with makeup, and we will be on tv tomorrow."

- "I'll sleep, I promise"- she whispered and nodded.

- "Are you going to be ok with these two?"- Frank asked after kissing the top of her head.

- "These two are leaving soon, so I'll be ok"- she made a pause and held Frank's hand- "Thank you, Jersey."

- "There is nothing to thank, Iceland. You are my friend, and I'll protect you no matter what."

- "Yeah... what you did yesterday when you yelled at... at him"- Joey couldn't even really say his name- "Well... thank you-" he smiled and winked.

- "Anytime"

- "I love you, dad,"- the girl said as Ray walked over. She wrapped her arms around him and felt him kiss her forehead.

- "Please, try to sleep."

- "I will ... and thank you for watching chick flicks with me."

- "Anytime you want."

- "Really? You won't get sick of the clichés?"- she smiled and wrinkled her nose.

- "No, maybe next time I'll pick a couple when we are on the bus."

- "Dad, it's a date."

- "Sleep tight."

Joey nodded and watched her friends walking out. Mikey kept his eyes on the tv as he ate a bag of M&Ms. Gerard was sitting at the other side of the bed, drawing in silence. The girl sighed and watched tv for a while, but her mind was somewhere else.

- "You should take a bath,"- Gerard whispered suddenly- "If you are going to try to sleep, maybe a hot shower can help you."

- "I thought I smelled so bad you were gonna force me"- Joey answered, not even looking at him.

- "Joey, I've lived with you for a lot of months so far, and I've been locked with you after playing shows covered in sweat"- Gee made a pause and smiled- "You've never smelled bad"- she rolled her eyes, but a slight smile appeared on her lips.

- "You've never been close enough to smell me."

- "She is right, she gets nasty"- and Mikey got smacked by a pillow after those words.

- "Fine, I'll shower..."- but before moving an inch, the girl looked at her friend and asked- "Can you give me my phone back?"

- "Tomorrow."

- "I want to call my parents"- Mikey took his phone from his pocket and gave it to her.

- "Use mine"- she huffed and dialed.

Gerard watched her walk around the room, speaking half in Spanish, half in English with her mother, and then half in Icelandic, half in English with her dad. It was a funny scene to see; he had never seen it. He had never seen a lot of her habits, and yet he had fallen in love with her. Why? How?

- "Dude, I'm talking to you"- Mikey said and threw him an empty bag of candy.

- "Sorry, what?"

- "Can you stay with her for a while? I have to go to my room and take the biggest dump on earth"- Gerard frowned, disgusted, and nodded.

- "Using the bathroom would have been enough, dude."

- "No, it wouldn't, you need to know the disgusting details of my organism..."- Mikey started gathering his things, and Joey frowned as she watched him.

- "Where are you going?"

- "To take a shit"

- "Please don't use my bathroom. You are gross. It's like there's a corpse coming out of you every time"- Joey simply says, and Gerard burst out laughing.

- "Best description ever!"

- "Here's your phone, bróðir."

- "Thank you, Bug"- he grabbed it, put on his shoes, his backpack, and hugged his friend tight- "I love you."

- "I know. I love you too."

- "I'll leave you with Gerard. Are you gonna be ok?"

- "I'll be fine,"- his older brother answered and never took his eyes from the paper, scared of looking at Joey under the circumstances. He was finally going to be alone with her. What was going to happen?

- "I was talking to her, dumbass"- Gerard flipped the bird to Mikey as Joey stayed hugged to his younger brother. He wished she could hug him like that one day. That night maybe...

- "You are the best brother on earth"- she whispered- "Now please go to your room and sleep."

- "Eat some chocolates, take a bath and fall asleep, ok?"- Joey nodded, and Mikey left the room.

Suddenly she realized it was just her and Gerard. For the first time in weeks. But her mind didn't have room to think about anything else but the pain she was feeling. She missed Matthew so much; watching Lethal Weapon was the best idea at the moment.

Gerard kept drawing in silence, and Joey watched the movie until it was over. She ate a few more Snickers and went through the pages of one of the mandala coloring books Gerard had given her.

- "Are you going to take that bath?"- he asked her. But she didn't answer. She had spaced out, staring at her hands in front of her- "Joey? Are you ok?"

- "Yes,"- she murmured and took a deep breath- "Yeah, I'm gonna shower."

- "Do you need me to run the shower for you?"- the singer asked, standing up, but the girl excused herself, moved out of the bed quickly, grabbed a clean pajama from her bag, and locked herself in the room.

Gee looked around and sighed. He knew she wasn't ok at all, so he cleaned the room a little, threw all of the empty bags of chocolates into the paper bin, called room service to take their dinner dishes away, and made the bed.

- "Hey babe"- he whispered as Lynz picked up the phone- "How are you?"

- "Good baby, you?"

- "So fucking tired"- he might have exaggerated that a little bit- "We had an eternal day today, doing a lot of press for the festival tomorrow."

- "My sweet baby, are you in the hotel?"

- "Yeah, already in bed "In Joey's bed, asshole."

- "And how's everybody?"

- "We are all exhausted. It's been forever since we've been home."

- "I know, honey, I miss you so."

- "I miss you more, baby."

Joey sat under the hot water of the shower, crying her eyes out. She held those tears for so long that day. She needed to get them out of her system when no one could see or hear her. Under the shower was good, with water running down her whole aching body.

She felt so much pain inside it seemed to be endless. She was never going to overcome it. Joey knew it. She actually thought she could die of sorrow. And her friends had been so nice to her. She felt she had to be better, so they were calmer. She didn't want to make them sick worry about her.

- "You to put out a show from the next day and start acting like you are getting over this whole deal"- she whispered to herself and whipped off her tears- "They deserve better than a broken drummer. You have to be professional, you are here to work, and you have to fucking do your best work."

But still, she looked at the ring that was still on her finger, and the tears came back. She didn't want to take it off. She wanted to hold onto the memory of the days she was happy. But it was so hard. She had been broken-hearted before, but not like that. It had never been like this. It felt like the end of her world, and she was sure she was never going to recover from it. She wouldn't be the same woman that she was before. She just didn't know how much of the old Joey was going to survive.

- "Joey, are you ok in there?"- Gerard asked from the other side of the door- "You've been in the shower for a long while."

- "Yeah, I'm coming out in a minute,"- she answered and cleared her throat- "You can go to your room if you want to, I'm ok."

- "I'm not leaving until you are tucked and asleep into that bed, Joey."

Gerard sighed and closed his eyes. He had brought this to her. She deserved him to be nice to her. Nice, he could do nice. He just had to turn his dick off, and everything was going to be ok.

Easier said than done, clearly.

Joey walked out of the shower in her pajamas, hair already dried, and night cream on her face, 'cos she had done nothing for herself in the whole day, and a part of her needed to feel a little human again.

- "You didn't have to stay,"- the girl said as soon as she saw Gerard sitting on her bed, his back resting on the headboard.

- "I didn't want to leave"- he simply answered and tapped the bed beside him- "Come here... "- she sighed and thought a few months ago she would have been shaking as jelly under those circumstances. Now it seemed Joey couldn't even think of Gerard in any way that wasn't a friend.

She crawled into the bed and looked at what he was doing. He had been working on a sketch for a long while now.

- "What are you doing?"

- "Not much, just trying to ease my mind, I think"- he answered and showed Joey his drawings- "I've been working on characters for the stories I wanna write, so I keep making sketches of random thoughts and ideas I've got for them"- Gerard opened another folder and showed Joey some more of his work- "These I've developed for a long while, but I still don't feel they are ready."

- "How do you know they are ready?"- he hesitated for a second before answering.

- "I guess they never really are. You are constantly changing little things about them with time."

- "Like songs?"

- "Yeah"- the girl looked at the drawings in silence for a few minutes. Gerard looked at her as she stared at each sheet with detention. He analyzed her eyes, her lips, and her cheeks. She was still very pale, black rings under her eyes. But yet, for him, she was gorgeous. He was dying to hold her.

- "They are pretty cool,"- she said and handed them back.

- "Hey, did you ever finish the song you were writing the other day?"

- "The other day, you mean five months ago?"- he nodded, thinking it felt it was just a few weeks ago- "Yeah, I did."

- "Can I hear it?"

- "Sure, one day you'll hear it, not today, dude. Today, I don't want anything"- he nodded and watched her sighing.

- "Another movie?"- and she nodded- "Do you wanna pick it?"

- "No... I don't care what's on the screen as long as I don't think"- Gerard grabbed the remote control as Joey kept playing with the ring on her finger- "Are you going to..."

- "I'm not talking about it,"- she answered right away.

- "Sorry..."- he muted and surfed through the pay-per-view options until he picked up "The Goonies." Joey didn't say a word. That was one of Matthew's favorite movies. But she wanted to watch it. She wanted to feel he was close. She was so mad and so in love that she didn't know what to do.

Gerard put all his art supplies in his bag and cuddled next to Joey. He did it just like Frank had done the night before: like it wasn't a big deal at all. He wrapped an arm around her neck and moved closer. She didn't do anything against that. Instead, she rested her head on his chest and sighed. Gerard felt triumphant. She was in his arms, finally. But Joey had cuddled for one reason only: it was the best position to hide the tears that started falling slowly as the movie began. She remembered clearly the first time Matthew "forced her" to watch "The Goonies." It was a Saturday. It was raining outside. They spent the whole day in bed, watching movies, making love, eating chocolate chip hotcakes, and s'mores. It was the perfect day. Now it was just a hurtful memory.

Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles, Gubler could feel the anger coming from Paget's eyes as he came clean and told her the whole story. They were at his house drinking beer and talking. Mostly Matthew was doing all the talking, while his best friend decided which was the best moment to hit him.

- "You are fucked"- Paget simply said as he kept talking. He stopped and frowned. But nothing came from his mouth- "I can't believe you did that! You are disgusting, Matthew!!"

Paget lost it for a second. She never, in all the years she had known her best friend, ever thought he could do such a thing.

- "I know"

- "I just... why did you do it?"

- "I was drunk!"

- "That's not an excuse!! You've been drunk before! And your cock hadn't ended up in your ex-girlfriend's mouth, so be honest with me and tell me what the fuck happened?"

- "I don't know! When I noticed it wasn't Joey, I stopped it all!"

- "You thought your girlfriend was sucking your cock?"

- "Yes!"

- "And why did you make out with those girls at the dancefloor?! Everybody saw you!"

- "I lost it for a second, 'cos I was scared Joey might cheat!"- Matthew murmured and looked at the floor, so ashamed of his own words.

- "And you did it 'cos you were scared she would?!"- Paget yelled and smacked his head- "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

- "I don't know!"- the boy rubbed his hands against his face feeling the anger filling his whole body- "Don't you think I regret it?! I hate myself! I was stupid!"

- "Yes! You were fucking stupid! Do you know what it takes to get someone to love you the way she does?! Do you know how hard it is to find someone as weird as you?!"

- "I know it's hard! I know it's fucking impossible, and I know I fucked it up! But I need you to help me fix this!"

- "You could start by going to see her and beg for forgiveness!"

- "That's what I want to do, but mom said I have to give her a few days to calm down."

- "She is right, and you have to calm down too."

- "She said I sound like a mad man."

- "Madder than usual, yes"- Paget nodded, still serious- "And where is she now?"

- "Spain, she has a huge festival show tomorrow, it's gonna be televised..."

- "So you get to see her live?"- he nodded- "And after that?"

- "Germany, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, she is only staying one day at those places, she is traveling by bus, so she is going to be stuck with the band all the time. And those guys hate me."

- "Right now, I hate you too."

- "Please stop hating me and help me find a way to get to her 'cos I know they are not gonna let me."

- "They have nothing to do with this whole situation! What are you talking about?"

- "Well, they've always been very protective of her, which used to bother me a lot, until I realized they loved her like a little sister, and she is happy with that 'cos she doesn't have many friends."- Matthew was talking very fast, as the words kept coming nonstop- "Eventually, we got closer, especially with Mikey. He is like her older brother on the road, and he is so fucking nice to her for a moment, I thought he was in love with her. But it turns out he loves her as a sister, which made me happy 'cos it meant she wasn't alone in that tour."

- "To the point, Matthew."- Paget sighed, annoyed.

- "Yeah, sorry. What happened was I called her after our fight, and Frank picked up the phone and told me he is going to kill me if he ever sees me again, and threaten me to beat the shit out of me if I ever try to get near her."

- "What at asshole!"

- "I know!"

- "You completely deserved that!"

- "Paget!!"

- "You would do that for me if someone breaks my heart, so deal with it"- Gubler nodded and for a second, then chuckled.

- "A few months ago, Joey told me the same thing..."- he sighed and stayed in silence- "I miss her so much it hurts."

- "I know"

- "I need to get her back..."- his friend didn't say a word, just rubbed his arm gently and cut him a short smile.

Paget couldn't promise him he was going to get her back 'cos she knew how much it hurt being cheated on, and she had never forgiven a guy for that. And by everything Matthew had told her about Joey so far, she knew she wasn't going to do that either. But she couldn't tell him to give up either. She knew he wasn't going to.

Joey sighed. The movie was over, and she was starting to feel tired. She was afraid to sleep though, she knew she would dream with Matthew Gray, and it hurt to even think about it.

- "Ready to get some rest?"- Gerard whispered. She didn't move- "I know you are awake."

- "Are you a psychic?"- she whispered, and he just smiled.

- "I can see your reflex on the screen"- he caressed her hair softly- "Do you need anything?"

- "No... thanks."

- "Do you want me to stay over tonight?"- Gerard simply asked, making sure it sounded like no big deal, though he could hyperventilate if she ever said yes- "I wouldn't mind."

- "I think I could use some time on my own"- Joey answered and moved on the bed, sitting next to him

- "I get it..."

- "Thank you, though. Thank you for taking care of me today and for bringing me so many things."

- "Hey, don't thank me for it. I'm glad I could make you smile even a little bit"- Gerard murmured and tuck some hair behind Joey's ear softly- "I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be so happy."

She didn't move, mostly 'cos she had spaced out thinking about Matthew again. She didn't seem to have room in her head for any other thought but him.

Gerard saw this as a chance to move a little further. He kept his hand in her hair and moved it slowly down to the backside of her neck. The girl chilled and looked into his eyes. That look, it wasn't a friendly one, and she just noticed it.

- "Joey, you deserve so much better than what he did to you, and if it were for me, I would give you everything, my whole life."

- "Thank you, Gerard"- she whispered and smiled- "You are a good friend."

- "I wasn't saying that as a friend."

Way smiled and moved closer to her, his nose touching hers. She didn't move. She didn't know what to do, actually. She had always thought he was incredibly hot, but she never wanted to cheat on Matthew. But now, that didn't matter anymore.

Gerard moved a few centimeters closer, and his lips touched Joey's. Electricity ran down his back as he kissed her slowly, just to make sure she wasn't going to move away. She didn't. And slowly, she kissed him back.

His hands cupped her face carefully as Gerard increased the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips. They tasted like chocolate, and they felt warm against his. It was blissful. It was like all the months he had to wait to feel that kiss had been completely worthy. That was the best kiss he had ever given, and his heart was rising so much, he thought it was going to escape from his chest.

Joey wasn't thinking. She wasn't at all. She just went along with the kiss 'cos it felt nice. And it also felt like payback. Like if by kissing Gerard, she was getting sweet revenge for what Matthew had done to her.

Gerard increased the kiss a little more, biting her lower lip and moving her closer to him. He wrapped an arm tight around her and kept a hand playing from her cheek to her neck slowly. Joey was enjoying this, Way was a pretty good kisser, and it was honestly a kiss she had thought about a million times. But it felt empty, like the kind of kiss you give to a random guy when you are drunk at a party. And this wasn't a random guy. This was her colleague, her married colleague.

- "Stop"- she whispered and broke the kiss.

- "What is it?"- she landed her hands on Gerard's chest and pushed him away softly.

- "This is wrong."

- "Why?"- Joey frowned as he held her hands and looked confused.

- "Well, apart from the obvious"- she said and pointed at his wedding right- "I'm at the lowest point of my life, and we work together. I can't afford to lose my job right now, so kissing one of my colleagues seems like a pretty shitty idea to me."

- "Not to me."

- "Gerard... that's your cock talking,"- Joey stood up and looked at him.

- "I've longed to kiss you for a long while"- he confessed following her and standing right in front of her- "And I've got the feeling so did you."

- "That's not the point. This it's wrong."

- "But it felt good, and you know it."

Gerard leaned to her, held her face, and pressed his lips against her, this time in a passionate kiss that made Joey feel weak on her knees. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his hands on her waist, moving her closer. So close that she could feel his erection, rubbing against her body.

- "You should go"- Joey whispered, gasping for air as she moved from his lips.

- "But I wanna stay"- she shook her head immediately.

- "You have to go, Gerard."

- "But, Sugar"- he murmured and rubbed his lips against her. She let him go slowly and looked at him, shaking her head again- "Ok..."- he grabbed his jacket and his shoes and landed a soft kiss on Joey's cheek- "Good night, sugar."

- "Bye, Gerard."

The singer walked out of that room and sighed. That had been the best kiss of his life. But Joey was right; it had been a mistake. However, it was a mistake he wanted to make ever since he first saw her. Still, he had just cheated on his wife. But that was a thought he needed to ignore at the moment. He had kissed the girl he loved. And he was in heaven.

Joey was in hell. She hated herself so much she wanted to die. She brushed her teeth over and over again, tears falling from her eyes. Her head hurt after so many days of crying. She had kissed another guy. And though Matthew had done the same to her, she still felt guilty and dirty. She was so sorry for what she had done; she knew it had been a terrible mistake. She didn't even want to face Gerard after that.

He was so eager for her, he had been holding that kiss for a long time, and he simply confessed it, like it wasn't a big deal. But it was. It meant Matthew had been right all along; Gerard had a thing on her, something that had ended up being a hot kiss. A very hot kiss. And if she hadn't stopped him, it was clear where Gerard wanted to go.

- "He had a boner for Christ Sakes!"- the girl argued, walking back to bed- "A fucking boner!"- she got under the covers, wrapping her arms around her legs, biting her lips so hard she nearly drawn blood.

Kissing someone else while still in love with Matthew didn't feel right. She didn't want to do it again. No matter how hot Gerard was. She missed her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. How was she ever going to get over him? She knew it was impossible. You don't love someone that much and successfully take him from your heart.

It was a good thing that Mikey had her phone, 'cos she felt the urge to call Matthew at the moment. That would have been stupid, and she knew it. But still, it physically hurt to miss him so much. She needed to talk to him. But Mikey had her phone... he didn't have her computer, though.

She looked for it in her backpack and started it on right away.

- "What the fuck are you doing?"- she asked herself out loud as she stared at the screen- "You can't talk to him... you are going to cave in."

Joey brushed her hands against her face and closed the computer. But after a few minutes, she poured herself a glass of whiskey and opened it again. She had decided to check her mail, and maybe Twitter, nothing related to her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

But her inbox was filled with emails from Matthew. At least twenty. Her stomach tightened as soon as she saw them. She took a sip of whiskey and opened the first one. It was sent the night before, probably after Frank had yelled at him and turned off her phone.

"I'm so sorry Yami, I know I was stupid and drunk, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. But I need you to know you are the only woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with. I love you so much it hurts to think of a day without even hearing your voice."

Joey was already crying. This wasn't healthy. Why was she doing it? She needed to sleep. She needed to get her mind from Matthew. But the memory of Gerard's kisses was right there hunting her too. She poured herself another whiskey and walked around the room. Maybe she could drink herself to sleep. But, she had a huge gig the next day, and she had to be professional.

- "Fuck! I wanna die..."- she sobbed and opened the next mail.

"I know you don't want to talk to me, and I get it. I just need you to understand how much I love you and that I'm willing to do anything to fix this, anything you want, everything you ask; I'll do it, but please, please don't leave me."

- "I have to stop this..."- she took another sip of her whiskey and whipped off her tears. She walked to the phone and talked to the front desk.

- "Hello, sorry to bother you, but can you please connect me with room 1201? Thank you"- the girl waited in line for what felt like ages until she heard Mikey's half-asleep.

- "Joey, are you ok?"

- "No, I'm not ok. Can you come and sleep with me, please?"

- "I'll be right there"- Joey stayed still, eyes glued on the screen, reading over and over again the last mail she had opened.

Mikey didn't even knock. He still had her key, so he just walked into the room in boxers and shirt, shoeless and with his hair made a huge mess. Mikey didn't say a word either; he just took the computer away from her and closed it, grabbed the glass, drank what was left of her whiskey, and got Joey under the covers of the bed. She was shaking and crying quietly.

- "You are gonna be ok Bug, I swear, please try to get some sleep"- he said and held her tight, spooning her- "I'm right here, I'm going to take care of you, ok?"- she nodded and sighed- "Now close your eyes and sleep, I've got you, ok? I've got you."

Joey sniffed and sobbed a little, feeling how her brother's arms tightened around her.

- "Thank you, Mikey."

- "You did the same for me. I owe you my life at this point. I'm never going to leave you."

Back in Los Angeles, Matthew was drunk, calling and calling Joey without any result. Her phone was off, her voicemail was full. So he continued writing emails. At least he could put his heart out in a way, though he had no idea if she was ever going to read them.

Paget, next to him, tried to stop him. But it was useless. The boy wanted to write and ignored everything else.

- "Matthew, Matthew"- she said and shook her arm- "Buy the fucking plane ticket to see her!"

- "Yes!!"- he kind of shouted and took a paper from his pocket- "This is Yami's tour schedule... the movie ends in two days, I can go take a plane straight from the set... so I have to go to Oslo if I wanna catch her."

- "Nice! Bring souvenirs"- his friend smiled, trying to cheer him up

- "Deal"- the boy grabbed his credit card and booked the first flight he found to Norway- "You know it is our anniversary next 17th, if everything goes right, we could actually celebrate our first year together."

- "Please, Matthew, and I need you to listen to me"- Paget said seriously and looked into her best friend's eyes, making sure he would understand her, though he was wasted- "Please, whatever you do, don't fuck it up! ok?"

- "Yes."

- "'Cos this is going to be the only chance you'll get to talk to her and fix everything. Trust me."

Gubler nodded with widened eyes. He was drunk, tired, and devastated, but still, he got how serious and honest Paget was with him. He knew he wasn't going to get many chances to get Joey back. And maybe that was going to be the only one.

taglist @all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

Do you wanna talk about this story, or be added to the taglist? send me a message here

#mcr #matthew gray gubler #gerard way #mikey way #frank iero #matthew gray gubler x oc #ray toro #three cheers for sweet revenge #babymetaldoll writes

28 notes · View notes

thoughts-on-bangtan · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think of JM’s updated Spotify? I don’t normally read into things, but his song choices makes me sad. “At my worst” “I can’t be myself (excuse me while I cry) & “When was it over?” With the lyrics “was it that fight we didn’t have when I came in? Was it the first time you saw me drunk? Second time I said I’m sorry?” It sounds like a replay of Vmins dumpling incident and it worries me. JM looked off in the recent live, almost sad and pouty lately. Do you think I’m over analyzing it?

Admin 1: The short answer to this would be: yes, you are over analyzing things.

The longer one would be that, for example, Pink Sweat$'s At My Worst isn't a sad song, it's actually the exact opposite. It's a very cute and romantic song. Just look at the first verse:

Can I call you baby? Can you be my friend? Can you be my lover up until the very end? Let me show you love, oh, no pretend Stick by my side even when the world is caving in, yeah

I'd actually argue this kinda sounds like a mixture between Sweet Night and Friends when it comes to the sentiment of those words. I’ve seen some people even claim that this will replace Ed Sheeran’s romantic songs that have so far been used at every wedding ever because of how sweet it is.

Then we have Justin Bieber’s I can’t be myself which I believe you probably only looked at the title and jumped to conclusions because, again, this isn’t a sad song either. The lyrics are more about how Justin (or whoever) cannot be himself when you (I’d guess he likely means his wife) isn’t by his side, thus wanting to say that he is happiest and most himself when they are together. It’s sweet and lovely, not sad.

I could travel any place But without you, it's just runnin' around (Girl, I'm just runnin' around) They could open Heaven's gates But without you, I'm just stuck in the clouds (Yeah, yeah)

Lastly, from the songs you specifically highlighted, is Sasha Sloan’s when was it over? which yes, I’ll admit this one is a sad song about not being able to let go even though you know there is nothing left. The song though has a very calm sound, something you’d listen to in the evening, and something I could see both him and Tae like listening to, not because Jimin relates to the lyrics but because it’s simply a pretty song.

On my current playlist I have Stromae’s Formidable, a song about a heartbroken man getting wasted after a breakup. I’ve neither gotten my heart broken nor am I sad and yet I still love this song because it’s just a really good song. Sometimes that’s the only reason we need to listen to a song. Nothing more to it.

All that to say that I don’t believe there is any correlation whatsoever to be made here, especially since Tae and Jimin look more than happy in recent months (did you notice Jimin happily smiling at Tae during their most recent performance of Butter for Colbert at the beginning of their subunit dance?) and there is nothing that could indicate to us that something went wrong between them, or that Jimin could be sad or something bad going on with him. I mean, look at JKs playlist and the fact that he has Billie Eilish’s Your Power on it, applying your thought process, does that mean that JK is trying to tell us he went through something similar to Billie? That he is sad? Or do you think he simply recommended that song because he likes Billie’s music? The last one seems the most likely, doesn’t it?

So, to sum it all up, there is absolutely no need to worry, seriously.

Admin 2: In the evenings, when it's very quiet and my big city has fallen asleep, I really enjoy listening to Sweet Night. I also like to go back to 4 O'Clock from time to time (although I know I will cry). Does that mean I missed my chance in life to be with my beloved? No and no again! I've never been in a situation like this, I wasn't unhappy or "fragily" in love, no one abandoned me or cheated on me. I listen to these songs because I love them. They match the mood of the evening and calm me down despite the sad lyrics and let me fall asleep peacefully.

I am a person who listens to a lot of songs from the past; Songs that remind me of situations, remind me of years of studying, enable me to relive certain situations.

Dear Anon, thank you very much for your question (confession), but I admit that I see it as "looking for some kind of backdoor" so to speak, a way to create a loophole and deny everything after all.

I don't know who you are, I don't know if you really are a Vminnie, but I think you are clinging to any possibility of a situation to undermine the reality or existence of Vmin. That's how I see it, if I offend you, I apologize. The more we get new materials about Tae and Jimin every day, like them being cute in the McDonald's behind the scenes, the more such "sad thoughts" we get sent to us through asks every day.

Firstly, I'm not sure if Jimin (and Taehyung) is fluent enough in English to capture the accuracy of the lyrics and understand its message. Of course, you can translate it, but for that to happen first the song has to catch your attention, and usually it's the melody and the overall feeling of a song that does it, and not the lyrics. And that is the point!

I think Jimin picked these tracks because he simply likes them. Perhaps he first paid attention to the melodies and the mood and only then understood the lyrics sometime later.

A lot of people (including me) hear some kind of song instead of another because they are intrigued by the melody or the association with a particular situation. The mood that fits the moment, the weather, the time of day or many other things which lead us to choose this song and not another.

Maybe Jimin and Taehyung were driving at night and listening to the song on the radio, maybe they were in a romantic mood back then, just having dinner together or taking a half bath together. Ha ha, I know I am deceiving and romanticizing what I am saying to reflect the vast possibilities and reasons why you listen to music like this and no other. Jimin putting together this list of songs for his spotify playlist doesn't mean he listens to it all the time, every day, but that he has the songs he likes on his list and chose the ones he wants to hear right now, or that he thought ARMY could like.

Of course, I'm sure he listens to very different songs during exercising than the one lying in bed before falling asleep. Maybe he's listening to this list, just like we hear the songs from BTS? We know individual words after repeating them several times, and we generally know (as we decide to read translations) what is going on in a particular song, but we don't understand all the words accurately. Not all of us are in the same situation as described in a particular song, but still we listen to it because we like it, because BTS sings it, because we are waiting for a solo from Suga etc. etc. etc.

For some time now we have been seeing (I see) Vmin happy, even very happy, as if "after the night the day came and after the storm came peace" (by the way, these are the words of one of my favorite songs), I have the impression that Vmin have finished fighting all their fights and they are just happy now, finally. Taehyung looks like a million dollars, he's literally glowing and far more lively than he was a year ago.

To him, Jimin is like smooch like butter and someone he likes the most. Taehyung is a handsome and hot chingu for Jimin who he also likes him the most as well. Tell me dear Anon, where is there room for fear and doubt in the love they share? Why and on what basis do you suspect that Vmin has broken up, or is having problems, or that either of them is unhappy? Besides, if one of them has an off day or is simply tired after a packet schedule and thus doesn't look as animated, why is that immediately read as "Jimin and Tae aren't together anymore" or "they are drifting apart" when chances are far more likely that it has nothing to do with their bond? Based on the playlist, or based on Vlive, or maybe based on both of these events, what is the correlation?

I've seen the Vlive. To tell the truth, I didn't see a sad and pouty Jimin there. Instead, I saw Taehyung smiling and content, and Jimin smiled and admired Tae's new hairstyle. I watched the latest BTS interviews. Vmin stared at each other, Jimin stared at Tae with a big smile that only grew in size and the two communicated with their eyes.

Jimin caressed Taehyung's back/butt in the Butter MV making Episode and said there’s butter here (though it wasn’t translated in the subs).

In the McD ad they were together and standing next to each other, even with Jimin resting his head on Tae's shoulder and then Jimin eating Tae's chicken nugget from his hand.

Honestly, I don't know what else Vmin would have to do to keep people from doubting their bond and happiness. They have shown us so much, I think they have reached the limit of what can be said without saying it bluntly.

Most importantly, this is a very interesting situation as we have never had as much "dubious news/content" (not meant negatively at all) as we have now after Taehyung's interview with his ‘confession’/clarification about Sweet Night. To me it smells a bit like someone wants to cause fear or plant the seed of doubt, or be like a trojan horse with the underlying idea of course being that "well...we must be wrong" even though there’s no reason for us to believe/think that.

#Jimin #Taehyung #vmin #song analysis #answered ask

48 notes · View notes

swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

Text

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Four)

Summary: (Y/N) and Sam worry about their new super-soldier friend after it’s revealed that he’s on the run and wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., the very agency he’d dedicated himself to.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

“It’s such bullshit! Captain America’s a criminal now?!”

“I know, Greg.”

“They haven’t even said what he’s done!”

“Yep, it’s ridiculous…”

“How can they organize a manhunt for him but not say what he’s supposedly done?!”

(Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated groan. “Greg, you’re my friend and I love you but I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

The line was silent for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been having the exact same conversation for almost a half an hour! You can’t believe that Cap’s a criminal, I agree, you complain that they haven’t said what he’s wanted for, I agree, then you start going all ‘Law and Order’ on me!” She exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst; with a sigh, she sat down in her desk chair and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Greg, that was rude. I don’t like what’s going on either; Captain America stands for freedom and honor, he always has, and it just seems…wrong that he’s the subject of a manhunt. I seriously doubt that Captain America of all people did anything to break the law.”

“Wow, when did you become such a big Cap fan?”

“I went to his exhibit when I was at the Air and Space Museum yesterday, and I guess it got me interested.” (Y/N) half-lied, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater as she pressed her phone closer to her ear. “Anyway, the reason I called was to tell you that it might take me a little longer to get the draft of my book to you; I still need to look over the last couple of chapters and with everything happening…it might be hard to focus on writing today.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike’s busy reading through a nine-hundred-page thriller that was sent in this morning so that’ll give you some time. Sorry to cut this short but I’ve gotta go, I have to check on mine and Mara’s dinner reservation for tonight, so I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)!”

“Talk to you later, Greg!” (Y/N) hung up and set her cell phone down on the desk with a sigh. Ever since she and Sam turned on the television at breakfast and saw the breaking news, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong; Steve Rogers wouldn’t be on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. unless he had a damn good reason to be. I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably been through much tougher scrapes than this, she thought to herself with forced optimism as she turned on her laptop and began typing.

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

Humming along to Billy Joel’s ‘Movin’ Out’, (Y/N)’s fingers flew across her keyboard as she typed and she smiled, proud of the fact that her writer’s block from the week before was now officially over and that she was so close to completing her very first novel. Not bad, not bad at all, she thought, hitting the ‘save’ button and stretching her arms over her head to relieve the build-up tension in her shoulders.

“Now this is good music, Booksmart!”

She spun her desk chair around to see Sam standing in the doorway of her bedroom and raised her eyebrow as she turned down her music. “Oh, so Billy Joel’s okay but everything else I listen to is garbage?”

Sam gave her a teasing eye-roll. “I never said that your music was garbage, I just said it was weird. How’s the writing going today?”

“I edited twelve pages and just spent an hour trying to describe a Soviet Cold War-era missile, so it’s been okay. How was work?”

“It was good, I didn’t have any meetings scheduled so I spent most of the day playing chess with the old timers. I swear, I think Gary cheats but I can’t figure out how he does it…”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Or maybe you should just accept the fact that you’re terrible at chess and the old timers take great pleasure in seeing you lose.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. You still cool with driving me to the shop to pick up my car?”

(Y/N) got up, turning off her computer and unplugging her MP3 player from her speaker with a grin. “Of course! Driver picks the music, though!” She laughed and practically skipped out of the room as Sam let out a groan of defeat and followed her. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Birdbrain, it’s not like I’m making you listen to a CD of ambient throat singing!”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you had some of that…”

Five minutes later, they were on the road and the two of them were singing along to her one of Panic! At The Disco’s newest singles at the top of their lungs; out of the corner of her eye she could see other drivers shooting them odd looks but she couldn’t care less, she was enjoying herself far too much.

Sam chuckled as the song came to a finish. “Damn, their new album is good. You know, I didn’t start listening to alt-rock until I met you.”

“Then you should be thanking me for bringing such good music into your life!” Giggling, (Y/N) turned down the volume and glanced over at the cheerful man sitting beside her, her smile faltering as she asked, “Do you think he’s okay, Sam?”

Her roommate’s expression grew serious and he shook his head. “I really don’t know. I saw on CNN earlier that inside sources claim he’s wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. in connection to the assassination of their director, but I don’t buy it. The guy we’ve met, who’s so dedicated to his job that he hasn’t bothered getting a life outside of it, wouldn’t be a part of something like that. I think something else’s up and I’ll bet anything he’s out there trying to figure it out.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip, nodding after a moment. “Yeah, me too.”

“Just you wait, this whole mess with S.H.I.E.L.D.’ll be cleared up in no time. I’m calling it right now, Steve’s gonna ride up to the VA on his motorcycle and dramatically whisk you off your feet, and the two of you are gonna ride off into the sunset together while one of those sappy love songs you pretend not to like plays in the background.” Sam's teasing smirk widened when her cheeks flushed. “C’mon, Booksmart, you both were mooning over each other like teenagers after the meeting yesterday; I felt like I was in the live studio audience of a soap opera taping.”

“You know, I could always kick you out of the car and make you walk all the way to the shop, if you'd prefer.”

“And I'd still get there before you ‘cause you drive like a grandma...”

Soon after, she pulled into the auto repair shop’s lot, parking under the shade of a tree before turning to Sam with a smile. “Did you want me to stay just in case your car isn’t ready yet?”

“That would be great, actually, thanks!” Sam gave her a grin before getting out of the car and heading into the shop.

(Y/N) rolled down the windows and sighed when she felt the soft spring breeze against her skin. Taking advantage of the peaceful moment, she let her imagination wander and began brainstorming different stories and characters in her head. You should probably finish the book you’re writing before you start on another one, she thought with a playful eye-roll. Her childhood dream of becoming a published author was in the middle of coming true, and she couldn’t be any happier about it.

Just then, her eyes drifted to a silver truck that was driving past the parking lot. It was going fast so she couldn’t get a very good look at the driver, but for a split second she could have sworn that the man driving the truck had the same blonde hair and chiseled jaw as Steve Rogers. Chalking it up to worry for the runaway super-soldier, she closed her eyes and murmured, “Whatever he’s up to, I hope that he’s staying safe.”

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @momc95 @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum

Chapter Five

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #captain america fic #captain america the winter soldier

98 notes · View notes

lcnlyplace · 3 years ago

Photo

full information.

pretty much a bio too long to read, headcanons, personality, playlist (not yet) and connections (not yet ahhh)

HERE

i went a bit crazy so below the read more is the tldr version

basic information.

BIRTH NAME: maddalena Haas

NAME: ilse salzburg

NICKNAME: ilse

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: angerberg, austria

HOMETOWN: angerberg, austria

DATE OF BIRTH: november 12, 1998

AGE: twenty-three

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: intern at the art institute of chicago

background.

TW: GASLIGHTING, DEATH MENTION

her parents were super catholic and overprotective. she has four sisters and had a brother who passed away shortly after his first year. her dad was a farmer, her mom stay-at-home mom.

let’s just say that as a child, her mother didn’t trust her. she was convinced that her daughter was evil and this is why she allowed her more freedom bc you dont wanna anger the one you think is the spawn of satan

she used to pray a lot for her and it seems that as she grew up, it kinda worked. and so, she started to become her mom’s fave. good for maddalena.

very quiet but always watching. she really didn’t have anything more special than other girls or her sisters but she attracted a lot of attention, boys were as curious of her as uneasy about her. girls loved her as much as they envied her.

by 14, she was already smoking and drinking (in secret ofc), she used to sneak out with boys but nothing ever happened beyond some flirting. her father was the only one who knew she snuck out bc he saw her once.

at 16, a new boy moved to her small town and after a few weeks of this boy trying to get her attention they started dating. maddalena was CRAZY about him, she never thought she would ever love anyone but herself and even when her mother found out she allowed them to date bc she also didn’t think maddalena would love anyone lmao

long story short, a year later she loses her v-card with him and for some reason she began to cry and feel very guilty about it. elias got tired of her very fast bc we all know what he wanted. and he spread the rumor that she had been cheating on him and that she pretty much had been nothing but cruel to him, so everyone at school hated her.

women have killed men for less ngl but she didn’t kill him no worries. she only drove him crazy. i guess he could see the crazy in her eyes and the evil that her mom once saw and he became paranoid and she also helped a little by spraying her perfume on his pillow and leaving little hints that she was around. eventually elias sort of went nuts and was taken away and never heard what happened to him ever again.

a few months before her 18th birthday she ran away as her parents wanted to pretty much either marry her or make her study something she didnt want.

moved to salzburg, austria and pretty much had a few sugar daddies ngl. until she met an american politician who offered her to bring her to the us and pretty much give her official papers but ya know still illegal.

moved to dc and she changed her name from maddalena haas to ilse salzburg.

never had a relationship with this man, but eventually after a year he fell in love with her and she also caught feelings but ya know last time it didnt go well.

they were together for a year but then he filed for divorce and ilse was like “oh no, we are not doing this”. left dc and moved to nyc for a few months.

became fascinated by art and applied to northwestern for art history and now she’s in her senior year and doing an internship.

the man calls her from time to time but she knows he’s not a danger and he’s just lonely so she lets him talk.

personality

probably undiagnosed with some sort of personality disorder.

very manipulative

holds grudges and will seek revenge and believe her when she says she’ll never be caught

very rational

in touch with her emotions and other’s emotions, although most of the times she doesn’t use this for good

very creative

she sees it, she wants it, she gets it kinda personality

if a friend, she will def kill for you or help you bury the body.

#━━ ✦ 𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐄 ・「 general ! 」#intro.#this one sucks bc its such a new character

3 notes · View notes

jinmindeulle · 4 years ago

Text

the art of love | cs

pairing: choi san x reader ft. mentions of park seonghwa

word count: 5.1k

genre: artist!reader, florist!san, exes to lovers au | angst, fluff

warnings: minor swearing

find ateez’s masterlist here!

enjoy ♥

How many deep breaths did I have to take to put myself together every time I started driving back to my hometown?

I think I stopped counting five years ago. It didn’t matter how many times I had done that, it had always driven me crazy.

But this time, it was worse.

“Please, text me when you’re on your way. Let’s meet at Jjinsong’s Café before going home. Be safe, love you!”

Yet, I couldn’t be mad. I missed my family too much to be upset over that. It’s been seven years, y/n, get over it!

I replied to my sister with a short message full of heart emojis and I put my phone inside my pocket. I started the car and glanced at my (ex?) apartment floor. Hope to see you empty when I get back.

Last time I visited my family’s home in Namhae, it was all tears and sad eyes. Making my way back to Seoul was one of the hardest things for me. However, every time I went back to the capital city, the driver’s seat was always taken by the same man, who at least tried to make my trip bearable by holding one of my hands when he could. But that day, I was the one driving, all alone.

I couldn’t break the news to my mother over the phone. She had gotten attached to him over the years. But she didn’t knew the whole truth, and honestly, going back to Namhae was way cheaper than calling my mom to tell her that I had rejected my boyfriend’s marriage proposal without second thoughts, and that my life was just a mess in general.

And I also needed to see her, my dad, my sister and my nephews. They were going to help healing my open scars. At least try to.

I picked a random playlist and kept it on repeat the whole trip. Fortunately, being a Thursday, the traffic was not that bad, especially at such an early hour. I really didn’t want to stay under that roof any longer. I felt miserable there. Why did I have to put it off that much?

“Why did you have to put it off that much?”

“I wonder exactly the same”

My sister looked at me with a raised eyebrow while she quietly sipped her coffee.

It had always amazed me how calm and collected Eunjung acted and reflected in situations like mine. She would never get upset unless it was the end of the world, and that hardly ever happened.

“I knew something was wrong since the last time you came home with him”

“But it was not that bad back then”

“You sure?”

“Well…”

He had been promoted a week before and his father had announced that he was soon going to retire, leaving him his position as CEO of one of the greatest companies in South Korea. It had easily gone to his head, and I wasn’t able to stand staying in the same room every time he brought that up.

“Maybe you’re right” I sighed, quietly stirring my own coffee. “I honestly don’t know, Jung. I didn’t like to think about it because it meant doing something about it. And I think I was way too comfortable living like that to try and change it.”

“And he made you do it”

“Pretty much, yes. I couldn’t get married to him. I don’t think I loved him enough to sacrifice what I wanted in life just for him”

“I’m glad you did that, y/n. It means you’re still chasing your dreams”

“I mean, yeah. I have always been. Not actively, but I kept dreaming about having my very own gallery, and everyone in Seoul wanting to have my art pieces on their living room’s walls.”

“Why not everyone in the country? Or in the world?”

“My dreams are more of the realistic type, Jung” I chuckled, munching my last chocolate cookie.

“How are you going to tell mom?”

“With your help?” I smiled innocently, trying to display the best puppy face I could master.

“And how do you want me to do that? ‘Hi mom, y/n here broke up with Seonghwa right after he proposed to her because it was not the life she wanted! Please don’t be that happy, it will break her poor heart!’”

“Eunjung! Please!” I begged “She won’t leave me alone and…”

“She will” my oldest and only sister interrupted me, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. “There’s been a rumour going around…”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

Eunjung sipped from her blue coffee mug and looked at me with the same innocent eyes I had displayed some seconds ago. Then, she quietly put the mug down and got closer to me over the wooden table, encouraging me to do the same. Once we were close enough to avoid being heard by the rest of the customers, she whispered in my ear.

“Rumour has it that Choi San is getting divorced”

I resoundingly sat back down, looking at my sister with a mix of weird emotions in my eyes. I hadn’t heard his name in ages. Not because I happened to not hear it, but just because I had deliberately asked my family not to bring his name up when I was around.

“Eunjung…”

“His wife cheated on him”

“Please, stop” I murmured, tightly closing my eyes, trying to get rid of the million memories that my brain decided to bring back after so many years of suppressing them. “You know how I feel about him”

“You’re telling me that after more than seven years you’re still upset about him and what you went through? You were like twenty years old, c’mon! You’re a woman now, y/n!”

“I was twenty two, and yes, I’m over it. But I don’t want to know, hear or talk about him. He’s dead to me. He’s been dead to me since the day I moved to Seoul, and will be until the end of my days”

“I didn’t know it was that deep”

“You were too busy taking care of your babies, Jung. And I’m not complaining here, I just know that you never got the full story, but it’s OK. It’s in the past now”

“You sure?”

“Stop making me question my life!” I cried, throwing a used paper napkin right at her face.

“What do you want me to say?”

My mom had always been understanding. She would calmly nod and hug me, telling me that everything was going to be okay, and letting me soak her blouse with my teenage tears. However, there were situations in which you could never guess what her reaction would be. And that was one of those times.

“Honey, I think we all knew that you were going to end things with that guy” my dad intercepted “but we weren’t aware of the fact that it was that bad”

“In all honestly, I wasn’t either” I murmured “it was just my routine. I had been waking up next to him for nearly five years. I had a job that let me live comfortably and not worry about anything else than buying expensive clothes every now and then because I was supposed to be accompanying Seonghwa in every fucking company’s party” I allowed me to cry for the first time, letting the pain and desperation out “I was living like a damn princess. But I never wanted that. I had never wanted that!” I sobbed. A pair of gentle arms held me tight, and I instantly knew that it was my mom. I hugged her back, holding onto her like she was the only oxygen mask available in a crashing plane.

“I know dear, I know. And I’m proud of you. You did what you wanted to do, because you should always do that. And it’s OK. It will never be a bad thing to follow your heart, y/n”

I nodded, drying the flowing tears with the back of my sleeve. “Thank you mom, dad. I love you”

“We love you too, darling” my dad affectionately kissed my cheek, chuckling when I showed him a weak smile. “Why don’t you take a shower while I finish preparing lunch? I bet your nephews want to see you as much as you do”

“Yeah, will do” I nodded, grabbing my large pastel purple suitcase. “I need to recharge before seeing those little demons”

The whole Thursday and the day before had been an emotional rollercoaster, so I expected to get the sleep I deserved. But sometimes things don’t go as planned. Just like my life, really.

The first night that I slept in my old room was just a blessing. No alarm clocks were rushing me out of bed, no angry faces were shaking me out of sleep, and no boring tasks were waiting for me in my office’s desk.

“Aunt, wake up!”

I opened one of my eyes when the curtain was drawn and sunlight hit my face. I was about to bury my head in one of my pillows when the oldest of my nephews, Jiwon, took it away from me and slapped me with it.

“Mommy’s taking us to the park so we can have a picnic as breakfast!”

“And told us to wake you up so you can go with us!”

“Please, auntie! Wake up!”

I wanted to scream. I swear to God I loved those kids, but sometimes they made me think twice about having my own in the future. Yeah, well, it won’t happen anyways. You’re single now, and you’ll probably be forever.

“C’mon auntie! Or mommy will be upset!” Jihwan cried.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Go tell your mom that I’ll be downstairs in like 10 minutes”

“Okey dokey!”

Getting ready in the mornings was not my favourite thing to do. I liked to pick whatever was clean in my closet and wear it like it was a Prada dress. Nonetheless, it was never like that for me. I had to be well dressed. I had to wear the actual Prada dress. I just couldn’t choose.

But that day, I could.

After taking a shower, I took my old, worn out pair of jeans out of my suitcase and put them on.

“It’s been so long since I wore these jeans” I whispered, caressing the fabric.

Next, I chose a simple, colourful shirt that I myself had intervened years ago, and tucked it in. The most comfortable pair of sneakers finished my look.

“You look like you’re twenty again”

“Oh Lord Jesus, knock next time!” I shouted, startled by my sister’s voice.

“You’re back to being you. I like that” she smiled at me from the door frame. “But hurry up! These kids are driving me crazy down there”

Taking a look around that familiar yet so long forgotten park, made me feel emotional once again. That was the reason why I always tried to avoid it every time I decided to return to Namhae. My hometown brought back too many memories, memories that I had decided to erase seven years ago.

But I was tired of it. And at that moment, my future was uncertain — what I had always feared the most. Bringing back painful memories was nothing for me at that point.

“Fluffy is crazy!”

“Give it to me, Hwanie” I took the red dog leash from my youngest nephew’s hand, trying to prevent the huge dog from running around the park chasing the ducks, and probably throwing to the ground the old ladies that were feeding them. “When did this dog get this big?”

“We are feeding him puppy food that makes him stronger, auntie!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t d… Fluffly!” the dog was able to release himself from the leash while I was giving wise advice, and started running towards the ducks, leaving us four way too far away to stop him before a massacre happened.

“Oh no!”

I reacted as fast as I could, although I knew I was way too late. My legs were not that fast, and even if they were, how was I supposed to have enough strength to pull him away from innocent ducks and old ladies?

Just when he was about to throw himself over the lake, a man in a black hoodie that covered most of his form took him from his collar and kept him under control. I kept running towards them, busy thinking about what that crazy dog would do to the stranger if he made a false step.

But I was stunned — and out of breath — when I found out that the beast was happily wagging his tail to the man, while he petted him. “Are you still misbehaving, Fluffy? Didn’t I teach you to stay calm near the ducks?”

“Uhm… hi?” I breathed out, trying to call attention to the man who still had his back to me. “The dog…”

“Are you still struggling to ta…”

My eyes watered in a matter of seconds. The man that I was successfully avoiding for years was standing right in front of me, looking the way I remembered him, like seven years had done nothing to him.

But he looked tired. Like he was going through hell and was needing a break from it all. His eyes had all the time shown his feelings, and back then, I was the only one able to read him like an open book. I knew in an instant that he was feeling like crap, but there was something else.

And maybe he was not the man that I used to know. Well, not maybe. He wasn’t the Choi San I had been in love with. The Choi San that I had cherished like no one else, who I had wanted to spend the rest of my life with and grow old together.

And I was not the same either.

“I…”

“It’s been so long” he sighed, looking me in the eye. I felt intimidated. I had forgotten how powerful his glances were, no matter the situation. He had always managed to do that to me, and I wasn’t ready to go through it once again. I had been invested in studying his glances way too many times in the past, and I was never able to reach a reasonable conclusion. So I just settled for leaving that matter alone.

“Yeah…” I exhaled, playing with the read leash in my hands.

“I didn’t know you were visiting your family”

“You know when I come here?”

“Of course I do. Everybody knows. It’s a small town, y/n”

I closed my eyes tightly upon hearing my name leave his lips. I felt like crying all over again, and I wasn’t willing to let him see me like that anymore. He had had enough of it. We both had.

“Should have guessed it” I nodded, looking down and avoiding his gaze. “Can you give me Fluffy back?”

“Oh yeah, sorry” he petted the dog for the last time while I secured the leash back on his collar “He’s been misbehaving a lot lately”

“You know him?”

“I helped Eunjung a couple of times with him. She told me it’s been hard to keep him quiet when they take him out to the park so I offered to help. I need to take a break from life sometimes, and he’s great company”

“He seems to like you a lot” I smiled weakly, looking down at the happy dog who was still wagging his tail while looking at San with what seemed like adoration.

“I think so, yeah” he giggled softly, petting him once again. “He’s nice, but he needs some rules before it goes out of hand”

“I’ll make sure to tame him, then”

“You’re staying?” I mustered all of my courage, and looked up to meet his eyes. His voice tone had changed tremendously, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. This was a new Choi San for me after all.

“For some weeks, yeah. I still don’t know how many, to be honest”

“You’re on a little vacation with your boyfriend?”

“I…” I was about to reply, but then it just hit me. I was talking to Choi San, the man that had marked my whole existence with burning, hurtful words. He had given me everything and taken it away from me as fast as he could. So no, I was not giving him explanations. “Yeah. Well, goodbye, San.”

And I left as fast as I got there.

After my encounter with San, I kept thinking about him and everything that happened in those years together. Not only the tragic ending, but also the beautiful things. And that made me realize that I could at least get part of it back.

Although Eunjung saw everything, she didn’t bring it up. She knew that I was struggling — and I’m pretty sure she heard me that night.

So while a soft breeze accompanied me as I was watching the night skies in the petit balcony of my room, I decided to make my way towards the basement to find the boxes full of the stuff I had left there and never used ever again. Many oleos were dry and unusable, but some others seemed to be just fine. I took one of the empty canvases and my easel as well as my collection of paintbrushes, and went back to my balcony.

“How had I missed you” I whispered, looking at my empty canvas. Tears gathered in my eyes, and a sad smile appeared on my lips as they rolled down my cheeks. “I really missed this”

But although I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than a soft stroke which was supposed to be the very same night sky above me.

My hand didn’t respond. It was painful.

So I let it all out. My desperate cries were most probably heard around the neighbourhood, but that was my last concern. The only thing that was supposed to make me happy turned out to be a total failure.

I had no purpose. I had ruined my career as a painter years ago. Why would I paint a night sky that would be seen by no one but me? That would be recognized by no one but me?

San was right.

He had been right all along.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you ran into San yesterday?”

Mornings at home were usually not that noisy, but that day it had to be. My mom had organized a tea party with her girlfriends, and I was supposed to help her out as the only one who was free around the house. My dad was out of town for the weekend because of work, and my sister decided to go out with her sons, probably trying to get away from our mom’s demands.

“Eunjung told you?” I sighed, mixing the cupcake mix faster than I was supposed to so that I could get out of there.

“Yep” she nodded.

“I don’t want to talk about him. You know he’s dead to me”

But even though I said it bluntly, I was feeling like that sentence had no meaning to me anymore.

“You’re being too rude, y/n”

“I’m being honest, mom.” I stopped my eager mixing and looked at her, supporting my weight against the kitchen counter, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I know you and everyone in this town love San. But I don’t, and I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Please”

“Fine” she sighed “Then lend me a hand with the stra— oh Dear God!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was supposed to bake a strawberry cake but I totally forgot about buying the strawberries”

I rolled my eyes. Totally my mom’s behaviour. “I’ll go to the supermarket. Anything else?”

I shouldn’t have asked that.

Making my way down the aisles, I struggled to find everything that my mom asked me to buy.

“Where the hell are these fucking powders?” I murmured, slowly walking with my cart and carefully reading each package. “Well, not here”

I looked in front of me to check the signs over the aisles, but my eyes encountered something very different.

A painted night sky.

I knew that painting. I knew that night sky.

Those soft strokes and the shiny details on the moon were familiar. Too familiar.

Of course. They were mine.

And once I understood that I was not looking at an actual painting but the back of an intervened denim jacket, it all came crushing down once again.

But I didn’t have enough time to run away.

He turned around and saw me. I froze like I hadn’t just seen him the day before. My eyes became glossy once again. Keep it together, y/n!

“I thought that yesterday was a coincidence. But I don’t believe that anymore”

San was right in front of me now, a couple of meters away from me. He was carrying some instant noodles in his hands and a bottle of water.

“Let’s not do this, please” I shook my head, tightly gripping the cart’s handle.

“We need to talk, y/n”

“There’s nothing to talk about, San” I gasped, avoiding his eyes.

“If your eyes keep watering whenever you see me and my heart keeps pounding whenever I see you, then yes, there’s a lot of talking to do” he calmly stated, taking a step closer to me “I know you have been avoiding me, and I cannot blame you alone. I also had whenever I knew you were around. But this needs to stop” he sighed “I am aware of the fact that you’re in a relationship and I don’t int—“

“I’m not” I interrupted him, looking at him in the eye “I left him. That’s why I’m here”

“I’m… I’m so sorry to hear that” he said, and I could clearly see the sincerity in his eyes.

“It’s okay…” I whispered.

“Can we please meet so we can finally say whatever we have to say to each other before you leave?”

“San, I… I find it really hard to talk to you” I came clean, playing with the ends of my shirt “You hurt me a lot, and… and I really don’t want to keep digging in the same old scars. But maybe…” I took a deep breath “Maybe it will help to finally close them”

He nodded “I know, y/n. I need this. We need this”

“What about your wife?”

I just had to ask. He knew about me and Seonghwa, so it was only fair.

“It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, I’m divorcing her”

“I’m so—“

“Don’t bother” he shook his head, chuckling with a noticeable pain in his voice “I’m not sorry, so no one should be for me. Especially you.”

I don’t know why I was so nervous. It was just San. Choi San, that beautiful, talented and perfect man.

And that was the problem.

Choi San had always been a mystery. A simple mystery. Back then, he liked to show me that he needed to wear nothing more than a dazzling smile to make my day better. He used to take me out at night to stargaze because he thought that I could find inspiration up there.

“You need to paint these, baby” he had said “I know you’ll do an outstanding job”

And of course I painted them. Every single one of them.

“Could you pretty please paint this same sky on the back of my denim jacket?” he had asked.

“Why do you want me to do that, Sanshine?” I had chuckled, looking up from his chest so that I could see his stunning features illuminated by the stars.

“Because today I feel like I could do anything I want with my life. I have you, so that’s enough” he had replied, sweetly kissing me afterwards.

I hadn’t been enough, though.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt his sweet perfume coming near me. I turned my head to my right, and I was able to distinguish his slender form from afar. He was still wearing that denim jacket and carried a large envelope in his hands.

“Hey there” he softly smiled.

“Hi San” I replied, trying to get rid of any sign of desperation in my voice.

“Do you want us to stay here or you prefer to go where used to… hang out?”

“I’m perfectly fine here” I sat back down on the bench, and he cautiously did the same, both of us in each end of it. The evening was warm and a nice breeze hit our faces. Although there were no stars yet, they were on their way.

And I honestly wasn’t ready to stargaze with San.

“Shall I start by saying that I am truly sorry?” after some minutes of silence, San broke the ice. “I never meant to hurt you like that. But I know that saying sorry now it’s meaningless. I just want you to let it all out, say the things that you wanted to yell at that 23 year old me but you never got to” the sorrow in his voice was evident, and I believed him. I felt how sorry he was for what he told me that night.

But it still haunted me. So I had to tell him.

“You ruined my dreams, San.” I whispered, already feeling hot tears go down my face. “You were my only fan back then. You encouraged me to keep going, practising, learning, and experimenting. But that night… you just threw that away. Why would you tell me that I was never going to be successful? Why would you yell right at my face that I was talentless?” I sobbed “That my paintings were nothing special and that I would never become a renowned artist if I kept painting night skies, when you were the one who encouraged me to do that in the first place?” And just as he wanted me, I let it all out. “You buried my dreams. You crushed them and you even made sure to throw them to the trash before leaving. I hated you for so long! I despised you! You were my best friend who suddenly became my worst enemy. But why? I just want to know that. I don’t care if you still think that my paintings were garbage. That’s my last concern” I sighed, violently drying the still falling tears “I just want to know why”

I looked at him, and it made me feel a little bit better to know that I was not the only one crying about it. Although he kept silent, his cheeks were soaked, and his eyes reddened and puffy. “You were talking about leaving Namhae” he whispered, looking down at the grass that surrounded us “and I couldn’t go with you, so I just needed you to stay. But after you moved to Seoul, I realized that I was being selfish and that I thought of my happiness over yours. I was going to be happy if you stayed with me, working at the flower shop and painting night skies as a hobby. But you would never have been if you did that” he cried, letting out a sorrowed and choppy breath. “And for the record, I never meant those words, y/n. I never believed that, and I know for a fact that I’m still your number one fan. You are the most talented person I know. You are amazing, and you more than anyone in this world deserve to be recognized out there. I’m so sorry for making you believe the opposite.”

I stayed silent, processing San’s explanation.

If we just had talked it out back then, maybe, just maybe…

“We were young and stupid” I finally replied. “I was trying to get out of Namhae to become an artist and I tried to take you with me. You were building your flower shop here and you tried to make me stay. It was never going to work out even if we tried” I reasoned, getting closer to him.

“But I shouldn’t have said that anyways” he shook his head “I prevented you from pursuing your dreams”

“I was stupid enough to believe that and stopped trying. I should have kept painting despite your words. I now see it” Slowly, San raised his head and looked at me in the eye. I weakly smiled at him, taking one of his hands for the first time in seven years. “I’m sorry too, San. I blamed you for my misery when I was the one who had to go after my dreams anyways”

“We both fucked up. But it’s on the past now, and we’re still young” he tightened his grip on my hand and shook the mysterious envelope with the other “I don’t know about you, but I just came from my attorney’s office. I’m officially divorced”

“I can’t believe our lives turned out this way” I quietly laughed, playing with San’s fingers. “If you had asked my 20 year old self, I probably would have said we were having our own house full of flowers and paintings by now, and why not add a couple of wedding rings. I was delusional”

“Not really, y/n. I expected that as well” his free hand softly caressed my cheek, travelling down to my jaw. He carefully grabbed my chin, making me look at him. I felt my eyes watering again, and San raised an eyebrow, showing me his confused gaze “Is there something wrong, baby?” he whispered.

I let out my tears, because I wasn’t trying to hide them from him anymore. “I’m just happy” I replied “I used to think that seeing you again was a mistake. That living in my luxurious Seoul apartment with a man that I no longer loved was what I needed to live the decent life that I was supposed to have. And now I know that it was just me trying to supress the urge that I had to come back to you. Because despite the horrible ending, you made me be who I am today. You loved me endlessly, San. And I hope you still do” I admitted, blushing like I was that 20 year old once again “Because I know I never stopped loving you, Sanshine. Even when I hated you the most”

He replied in the most beautiful way. A sweet, awaited, and loving kiss.

Although it wasn’t, it felt like the first time. No rushing, no hurting. Just love.

The love that I was waiting to get from someone that actually never loved me like San did.

The love that San was waiting to get from someone that actually never loved him like I did.

The love that we both deserved to get after so long.

— jinmindeulle ♥

149 notes · View notes

aloera · 4 years ago

Note

The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

#AHH ive wanted to answer these for so long...... bro fr i was so happy when u sent these!!! like wow!! finally got sent one!!!#sorry for how long the responses are idk how to be concise #asks #anon #a(lore)a

5 notes · View notes

marveloussupernerd · 4 years ago

Text

betty - Seven

Very irrelevant but I got a paper cut where I hold my phone when I write so this was quite literally a pain to write. If there are typos, that would be why haha

Warnings: spoilers for Seven’s name!

Summary: Seven has been away on a mission for almost a month now, with very little communication with you. He decides to surprise you when he comes home. To clarify, MC is not necessarily named Betty, just the Taylor Swift song i used as inspiration haha, slight AU

You missed him. It hurt how much you missed him, in fact. You and Saeyoung had been dating for a little over a year now; you had moved in with him and Saeran about two months ago. Things were good between the three of you. Then Saeyoung was called to go on a mission.

It would take a month; he was over in America. You couldn’t text one another, as it would not only give away his location but also could be dangerous for you. You were, however, able to call every once in a while. He would have Vanderwood scramble the signal and call you every three days or so. You would burst into Saeran’s room so he could be a part of the call too; you typically had about ten minutes to catch up before he had to go. It was nice hearing his voice... you had noticed Saeran was sort of sad without his brother around.

The two of you tried to do fun things to keep the house lively without Saeyoung; you played board games almost every single night, went to the movies last weekend, and went apple picking the other day. Anything to take your minds off of the emptiness of the house. You were grateful for Saeran; if he wasn’t there you probably would have gone insane. The two of you talked it through and decided to have a small party with the RFA members at your house this weekend; it would be nice to see the others.

On the day of the party, Saeran focused on crafting the perfect playlist while you made brownies. You got a call from Seven and, almost dropping the bowl of batter, you quickly picked it up, turning it on speakerphone. “Hi Honey!” You called. Saeran set his phone down and moved closer to you.

“How’s it going, Saeyoung?” He asked.

“Oh it’s good. How are the two of you doing?” His voice sounded slightly robotic. The signal must have been bad.

“We’re actually going to have a little get together tonight with the RFA,” you stated, matter-of-factly.

“It’ll take all of them to fill this house with as much personality as you do,” Saeran joked. The two of you chuckled.

“That sounds so fun! I’m glad you’re finding things to do. I’m sure you both miss me a lot.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course you missed him, but how Seven of him to state it like that. “Are you safe? And healthy?” You always asked him this.

“Yep yep. I might have even grown an inch. Hear that? Inch. Americans are so weird with their measuring system.” You heard a horn honk loudly in the background, the sound being drawn out. “Traffic,” he explained. “Drivers are crazy. I’d hate to bring one of my babes here.”

You sighed, certain he was talking about his “babe cars.” Saeran caught your expression and laughed.

“Hey, I’m sorry I can’t talk longer, but I have to go. It’s hard to keep the signal like this when I’m moving.” He didn’t sound sad or anything, like he typically did at the end of his calls. It was probably because he was focused on all the traffic.

“Oh, okay! Take care of yourself. Can’t wait to talk to you again Honey.” Every time you went to say goodbye your eyes welled up with tears. This time was no different. It was just hard because you weren’t sure when you’d be hearing from him again.

“I’ll call as soon as possible. Bye Babe, bye Saeran. Love you both.” Saeran wasn’t even able to utter a goodbye before the phone hung up. You sighed.

“You okay?” Saeran asked as you set the phone down, focusing your attention back on the brownie batter.

“Yeah. Just feel cheated the call was so short this time,” you explained. It was a silly thing to be upset about, but it did make you sad. “Sucks we don’t know when he’ll call again.”

“As soon as he can, I bet. Can I help you with anything,” he asked, eyes trained on the bowl.

“Do you maybe wanna vacuum? I haven’t gotten to it yet,” you asked. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding before heading off to the closet to get the vacuum. He knew you hated vacuuming and liked to put it off; it frequently became his job.

Much later, things were all in place for the party. The punch was made, brownies were frosted, floor vacuumed, music playing. It was perfect. You were honestly kinda excited! You really enjoyed planning these sorts of things for your friends.

Jaehee arrived first (no surprise), carrying a plate of cookies, asking if you needed any last-minute help. She was always on top of the game. Then Jumin, bringing a few fancy bottles of wine with him. Next was Zen, then finally Yoosung, who had brought The Game of Life to play.

You thanked them all for coming and got to quick work setting up the game with Yoosung, organizing all the cards and lining them up. Jumin offered to be banker, which Zen disagreed with immediately. Then Zen offered to be banker. When he wasn’t sure how to hand out $80,000, the task got handed to Jaehee. This typically happened.

You were just about to purchase your house when there was a knock at the door. “Who could it be this late?” You asked, standing up to take a look at the monitors. “Maybe a package or something?” But it was 9 pm. That made no sense.

“I’ll... come with,” Saeran offered. He seemed on edge slightly. Nobody came to your house this late: only the RFA or Vanderwood. And the RFA was here. And Vanderwood was in the U.S. with Saeyoung. You felt a million times better with Saeran by your side.

You took a glance at the camera situated near the door. Was that... Saeyoung? “Why is he knocking?” You asked. Saeran subtly grabbed a knife from the knife block.

“What, are you afraid it’s his evil twin?” You joked. He probably would have laughed if he hadn’t been so nervous. You thought it was kinda funny. Saeyoung was always big on entrances; this was probably all a bit.

You opened the door a decent amount but not all the way. Saeran had put you on edge honestly. “Saeyoung!” You greeted, as though you hadn’t looked at the monitors already to see who was there. “Why’d you knock? You quite literally programmed the entry.”

He swung his bag off his shoulder, setting it down. “You know, now that I think about it, it was probably pretty concerning to see me ringing the doorbell. I just wanted a dramatic entrance.”

That was your Seven. There was no denying it. You launched yourself towards him and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He picked you up, feet flailing in the air. He set you down gently. “Hey Saeran. What’s with the knife?”

Saeran’s eyes widened, and he leaned over to set the knife down on the counter, making his way to greet his brother. Seven pulled him in for a hug which made him extremely flustered, but you could tell he was happy his brother was home.

The RFA had made their way to the doorway to see what was the cause of all the commotion. “Welcome home, Saeyoung,” Jumin smiled. Everyone else joined him in greeting the redhead. He had his arm tight around your waist as he said hi to everyone.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another week or so,” you commented, turning to look at him. He turned to face you, your cheeks so close they were almost touching one another.

“But how could I miss game night!? I love game night.” He joked, a wide smile on his face.

“We’re playing Life though. Six players max.” Yoosung explained, scratching the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it. We can make you be a paper clip or something. We haven’t gotten too far into the game,” you reassured him. He absolutely loved Life.

“Eh, it’s fine. Can I just be on your team?” He asked, poking at your side. Zen made a comment on that not being how the game worked at all, but Saeyoung brushed him off. “I’m playing the role of husband. It counts. Have you gotten married yet?” He asked you.

You giggled. “Yep. I’m about to buy my house.”

“Oh man,” his face fell. “Well what am I gonna do with the ring then?”

“What ring? What are you talking about?” He was confusing as always. You knew he was teasing you, though, from the way his eyes sparkled as he played along.

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a box and popping it open. “This ring.” Your jaw dropped. It was so beautiful. There was a large square cut diamond that caught all the light from the kitchen, with small diamonds lining the band. “I was gonna try and be your husband but I guess that role’s already taken.”

“Saeyoung... I-“ you didn’t even know where to start. He still had his stupid grin on his face. “I’m so confused. This does not seem like the time to be messing around with me.” You chewed your lip nervously. Was he seriously planning on proposing?

He let out an extremely exaggerated sigh, mumbling “fine” and getting down on his knee. “Will you leave your husband in The Game of Life for me, and marry me, but for real? Like in real life?”

You laughed. The movement caused a tear to fall down your cheek. You sniffled. “Of course I will Saeyoung.”

The RFA was clapping; it was so cheesy. Saeyoung got up, complaining about how his knee hurt from the concrete, and took the ring from its box, sliding it on your finger. “Did you sign a prenup or anything? I hope you don’t lose it all in the divorce.” He teased, still very focused on your board game marriage.

“Shut up you idiot,” you joked back, pulling him in for a kiss, his hands finding your hips easily and pulling you closer. Saeran whined something about PDA and the RFA went back inside, telling you to come back In when you were done being all gross.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming back,” Saeyoung whispered, his features only highlighted by the moonlight now that the house door was shut. “I wanted to surprise you. I know you don’t always like my surprises, but was this one okay?”

“Best surprise ever,” you grinned, plastering kisses all over his cheek until he was laughing nonstop. “Now let’s go inside before we go completely bankrupt.”

“We’ll have to find a good lawyer to help file the divorce papers,” he commented, scanning his way back into the house.

“Well, Yoosung is the lawyer, so good luck with that one.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #seven #folklore

13 notes · View notes

marvels-writings · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! Maria Hill anon here. No need to be sorry. I love your writing so a series would be great (if you want to). I'd love for them to end up together and for there to be a good amount of angst, not too much and not too little. Thank you! ☺

A/N: I’m so so sorry this is late. And thank you chloesingulier.tumblr.com for helping me come up with the title and for helping me write the request. Anyway here is the starting of the series:

"Come on! Get to work!" Maria shouted out to the rest of the people in the compound. Ever since Ultron, Shield had technically moved in with the Avengers and trained recruits for them instead of Shield.

You look over your shoulder to spot her overlooking everyone but Shaun. His computer screen faced away from Maria, so she couldn't catch him playing Galaga again. Honestly, no one knew why he still liked the game, but his job wasn’t important enough to be worrisome so everyone let it slide.

Your job had its moments, but they didn't last long. Your job was mainly to make sure everything was running smoothly and most importantly, you were the main person directed everyone around. Except Maria, Fury and the Avengers of course. You were kind of the manager who took orders from the director.

Fury told you what to do, you told others how to do it, Maria made sure everything was alright and sometimes told you what to do and gave you advice.

"Y/N, could come here?." You heard Maria's voice call out to you.

You stiffen in your seat, but reluctantly get up to reach Maria. Your feet feel like rubber as you realize your legs are almost completely asleep from sitting for so long.

Maria stands at the top of the balcony overlooking the open-space office with computers, and you head to the stairs. You shakily climbed them, holding tight to the railing as to not trip.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your numb legs make it up the steps, but it was short-lived. Your left foot twisted on the last step, and you begin to fall, closing your eyes shut. But you fell right into the arms of Maria.

Slightly confused for a second about what happened, you opened your eyes and saw you were a foot away from the floor. Maria had caught you by the elbows and was looking at you worriedly.

"Are you okay?” She asked, lifting you up. You nodded and got up. Once both of you stood up completely, you dusted off your uniform slightly.

“Thanks, uh what did you need me for?”

"I was wondering if you would be able to come to a meeting tonight with Fury and I. Do you have any plans tonight?” She inquired.

“Um no, nothing important at least.” You respond hastily, knowing that you would need to cancel a date with your boyfriend tonight. You scratched your neck slightly and avoided eye contact.

“Are you sure? We could schedule it for another time…” Maria started, seeing your reluctance

“No, no, I’m free tonight. What time and location?” You cut her off. You hadn’t been in touch with your boyfriend recently, and you had suspicions he was cheating on you. It was time that you called him and broke up. Since you were almost always at your job, he always seemed to get really angry. But you hadn’t talked in a while.

“I will send you the location, but we were thinking around six? We were planning on dinner.” Maria said.

“I think it should work out,” You said, then asked “Who are we meeting though?”. Maria smirked slightly at the question, you knew it meant something dangerous.

“Nuclear arms dealer who thinks we aren’t working with the Avengers,” You rolled your eyes slightly, dangerous dinner, usual Maria. She laughed slightly. “If you’re worrying about what to wear, I think a formal dress should be fine.” She said, you weren’t sure exactly what to wear at this point. You didn’t really have an ‘undercover’ dress which you could beat someone up in.

“I’m not sure I have the right dress for this,” You said, smirking slightly. You really didn’t if you were honest.

“I’ll send someone with a dress to your place at about 5:15,” She replied.

“Let me guess,” You joked, putting your index finger and thumb on your chin to pretend you were thinking. “It’s gonna be a surprise?” You asked jokingly.

“As if I’d let you pick what to wear,” Maria joked, you put your hand down and laughed. You and Maria had done this a few times before, you never knew what you were going to wear but what she sent you was always fantastic, and unsurprisingly, complimented what she was wearing perfectly. “See you then.” she said as she walked out the door.

“Can’t wait,” You called out behind her before heading back to your seat.

You glanced at the clock on your way back, it was 3:36, it took you half an hour to get home. So about an hour until she needed to leave work for, well, more work. Fun.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

It got to 4:20 faster than you had expected. You sighed and got up from your seat and got your things to go to the locker rooms to change into civilian clothing before you drove back. You got to the locker rooms and opened yours and saw everything in its place, just a sticky note which reminded you of the dinner and had Maria’s name written on it. You took it off, smiling softly at it and changed.

You changed into your quarter-sleeved black and gold t-shirt, black jeggings, and slung your black and smoke jacket over your shoulder. You headed out towards your car to drive home instead of taking the bus. You got in your car, switched on your playlist and drove home.

As you were driving home, your boyfriend called you. Probably to verify your date tonight. You groaned and slid the answer button, letting the call play on the cars speaker.

“Hey y/n, which restaurant are we going to by the way?” Bf/n said excitedly. But it sounded fake, and you thought you heard him in a different place, not at his house.

“About that,” you began, you instantly heard him groan.

“Let me guess, you have work?” He asked, you thought you heard someone giggle.

“I couldn’t really help it, you kno-“ you tried to explain.

“Cut the excuses, your work is more important than I am to you.” He sneered into the phone. You sighed.

“Bf/n, I really didn’t want to, honestly I don’t, it’s just work, I have to.” You said, you heard him sigh. You honked to get the car in front of you to move.

“We can talk tomorrow,” he said, about to hang up.

“WAIT, uh, we can meet up at the Starbucks in front of my place tomorrow morning.” You said hurriedly.

“Fine, drive safely.” He replied, then hung up.

You weren’t sure if you were going to breakup with him yet. Maybe you’d try to get a day off and spend it together to see. Hoping he wasn’t going to cheat on you, you pulled into the driveway to your house and got out of the car. With all of your things in your arms.

You sighed and went in your house to go shower.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

You came out of your hot shower in a towel and changed into sweatpants and a hoodie as you waited for the dress Maria sent to arrive. You started to watch a movie as you waited, too lazy to talk to anyone. Until the doorbell rang, you groaned and got up. You got to the door after practically dragging your feet, today had taken its toll on you.

“Delivery from Maria Hill?” The delivery man asked hesitantly as you opened the door. You nodded and signed the pad he held out for you to sign. He handed you the large bag with the hanger poking out of the top. You thanked him and close the door, heading inside.

You headed towards your room, then laid the bag on your bed before opening it. You let out a soft gasp when you saw the entire dress. It was an absolutely gorgeous velvet violet color dress. It was an off-shoulder dress with asymmetrical, ruffled bottom. There were small bands on the side for your arms. You turned the dress over in awe. The back went down slightly lower than the dresses Maria normally gives you.

In fact, this entire dress was a bit, well a lot more revealing than most of the dresses Maria had sent you before. You looked incase there was anything else (HEY CHLO) in the bag. You found there was a gold necklace with a midnight blue and violet gemstone pendant. You also found a couple of simple gold bracelets as well as earrings which looked like they were raining gold and violet droplets.

This was definitely a bit much, even by Maria’s standards.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

You’d changed into the dress and put on makeup. You used urban decay violet shimmer eyeshadow and black shimmery eyeliner combined with simple gold makeup. You put on the jewelry and looked at yourself in the mirror. You wore some violet heels with it (also courtesy of Maria)

You looked good, better than usual if you were to say so yourself. Twirling to get a good look at yourself, you found the dress was slightly more bodycon than you had expected. But it seemed to be perfectly tailored. You took a small black clutch with you as you headed out, seeing the time was well past 5:30. You checked your phone for any messages you found the address Maria had sent you and hurried out the door for the dinner.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

You pulled up in front of the restaurant and got out of the car. You walked into the restaurant and up to the clerk desk.

"I'm looking for someone under the name of Maria and Nick." You asked, looking around for them.

"Ah yes, follow me." The clerk said.

You followed the clerk to a secluded and apparently reserved room with windows looking out to the rest of the restaurant. Maria was sitting in the room with a menu in her hands.

She looked stunning. She had a midnight blue sleeveless silk dress which faded into violet at the bottom. She wore violet heels which matched yours with it as well as thin gold necklace and earrings. Her dress complimented yours perfectly.

"Oh, Y/N, glad you could come. I'm just about to order." She smiled as she put her menu down. You were just glad she didn’t notice you staring.

You sat down beside her and began to look through the menu, finding your eyes always drifting to Maria not of your own accord.

You both ordered your food, and decided that the meeting would occur after you had eaten.

You’d ordered fav/fancy/dish as Maria had ordered some grilled salmon.

You began to eat your fav/dish , and heard laughing off to the side. You look out the window that the sound was coming from to find Bf/N laughing like you had never seen.

You pause in confusion, and look closer to find he's holding a girl close to him. You drop your utensils as he gives her a kiss.

#Marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x female reader #Maria hill #Maria hill x reader #Maria hill x female reader #my writing #with help #my fic #marvel one shot #marvel imagine

118 notes · View notes

smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Good Goodbyes - Doug Peterson x Reader (Secret Men’s Business)

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: Oh. Come on, that’s how they left it you knew I was gonna jump all over this! This was supposed to be a short prelude to the scenario I really wanted to write... As you can see... ‘short’ is NOT what happened.

Gosh, Doug Peterson really stole my heart 😅

This might be the only time that I suggest that you listen to a playlist while you read. Because Doug’s playlist is essentially THIS fic.

Disclaimer: Gif not mine / Lyrics not mine / Secret Men’s Business Characters/plot etc not mine I know I gave her an age - I just really wanted an Older!Reader dynamic, and also that’s around the age that dancers retire, so fits the canon of the story 😊

Premise: Doug Peterson is determined to start over. He knows he needs it, even deserves it, after what went on between his wife and best friend. Armed with his writing, his work and his dreams - Doug wants nothing more than to make this fresh start a good one.

Words: 10,018

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Connotations / Insulin Warning

__________ I thought goodbyes were never easy I should know by now, girl believe me I thought love would just leave me broke But I'm not, I can breathe, turns out you, set me free And I'm wishing, I'm wishing, I'm wishing you find all that you need And I'm hoping you find somebody who loves you more than me Yeah, it hurt me for like two weeks Don't expect tears when you see me, no This ain't a holding on as long as we Can 'cause this time there's no tears to dry This is a "Thank You, God" we got out of the mess we were in Baby just in time Who knew there was still light in my eyes? Who knew that you don't have to try And that you don't have to cry? Who knew there could be good goodbyes

I might miss you if you'd have been there or Given me proof that you actually cared but now There's no regrets, no turning back Already left you behind And I'm wishing, I'm wishing, I'm wishing you find somebody new And I won't have no trouble finding someone who loves me more than you Who knew there could be good goodbyes? Who knew there could be better times? Who knew I would feel so alive? Who knew there could be good goodbyes? ---

Yesterday I found out about you Even now just looking at you feels wrong You say that you'd take it all back, given one chance It was a moment of weakness and you said yes I should've been there, in the back of your mind I shouldn't be asking myself why You shouldn't be begging for forgiveness at my feet You should've said no, baby and you might still have me

I can't resist, before you go, tell me this Was it worth it Was he worth this

---

The car flew down the freeway towards Sydney. Sitting in the passenger seat was the box of writing that’d been there since he’d said goodbye to all his friends, and in the back his packed bags. The sun glinted on the high rises in the late afternoon – but the time didn’t bother him, he had a hotel room for tonight, and he knew a friend with an apartment he could rent until he got himself settled. Ali had tried to talk him out of leaving, but he wasn’t having it. How was he supposed to trust her ever again? And say he did, say he forgave her and attributed it to lonliness and a moment of weakness – what if she did it again? Cheat once and surely you could cheat again. And, he remined himself, it wasn’t a onetime occurrence. In fact, Michael and her cared about him so little that they were ready to have phone sex whilst he was in the goddamn house. What about the barbeque – wasn’t that openly flirtatious behaviour? He’d known then and done nothing… So he ignored her protests, and he packed up. He didn’t want to hear it, no excuse was ever going to excuse what she’d done to him; that his wife and his best friend had gone right ahead and broken his heart. He didn’t feel anything but empty now he was standing in front of her. And there was nothing more to say other than You’ll be hearing from a divorce lawyer shortly. She was devastated by that, but he wasn’t about to cry over her again. How much time had he wasted here? The one thing he did make sure to do was talk to his son. Dillon wasn’t quite old enough to understand exactly what was happening, and the main thing was making sure he knew it wasn’t his fault. Because he was going to fight for custody all the way. ‘Just let me get set up… and it’ll all be fine… it’ll all be fine.’ But for now he had to be out of that house, because God forbid he fell for her again – that he let her walk all over him. He wouldn’t let her and Michael treat him like that, nor laugh behind his back ever again. As he pulled into the city Doug Peterson allowed himself to smile, a genuine smile, for the first time in a long while. This was the start of something completely new; a place in the city, a new job, a new life… And he was determined to make it a good one. *** Several Months Later…

Divorce proceedings seemed mercifully short. Doug wasn’t sure she’d have just signed away for him – although the custody battle was a little harder. Still, Ali was really a ‘the job comes first’ type and Doug made a good case. Apparently the better case, because that was agreed too, and in his favour. So now he got to be a single parent. And that wasn’t the only good thing happening for him; Doug had made decent money before, so moving into his own place came quickly. He had a home office, and therefore got to spend as much time with Dillon as humanly possible – finally able to love every second of his life. He made a bunch of new friends quickly, and at least phoned Andy every other week. Doug even occasionally checked in with Ian. He left Michael and Woz well alone for now; unsure he could really stomach those conversations yet. Andy always asked if he’d found anyone new yet; and Doug would always laugh nervously – could he ever date again? He thought it might take a long time to build that kind of trust up once more. For now, that scene was off limits and not for him. All he wanted to do was spend quality time with his son. But the business, that was important. He was well known in the advertisement industry; sure he’d never got the big break, but the people he did know were eager to fund him and get him off the ground. From this generosity DP Advertisements was born. Luckier still, Doug had managed to bring the majority of his client base with him. So when Dillion was at school, Doug threw himself into his work – and thoroughly enjoyed all aspects of it.

Because the company was smaller it meant he got a lot of very interesting calls – the kind of jobs he’d never been able to do. Digital media and TV advertising wasn’t his only remit after all. Print, posters, billboards, website advertising – new for everybody – Doug got the opportunity to do a little of everything. He always liked meeting new prospective clients and finding out what they were looking to achieve before he said yes or no. He could just about afford to say no to anything he simply found too boring – but with his new attitude, Doug found everything pretty interesting. His newest prospect suggesting meeting in a restaurant – a lunch meeting, expensed. Suddenly he decided that it wouldn’t really matter what was pitched, because he was getting a meal for free – and at a well reputed restaurant no less. He was just a little nervous; they were well spoken, they’d seen some of his work around, liked the fact that he was a one person company (although Doug did mention his experience), and reached out to him through channels they knew at other agencies who would be able to say exactly whose work his was. Clearly they had done their research, and he had come well recommended. When the day came, Doug dressed in one of his best suits, and wore a tie, arrived early at the restaurant; maybe a little too early – but he was nervous enough to not want to be late. The restaurant was near empty; he supposed due to the exclusivity of it. Three girls sat at the bar with steaming cups – not day drinking then! - a business meeting was being conducted in a quiet corner, and two or three tables were having an early lunch. When Doug gave the name of the party he was meeting, eyes flew wide. He wasn’t sure what that meant and no words were spoken; they allowed him to sit at a table with a nice view. He set up, and recited to himself a pitch he knew off by heart – even if he didn’t exactly know what they wanted yet. But he found himself easily distracted, and before long Doug Peterson wasn’t looking at the view he should have been looking at; because he’d found one slightly better. He’d caught your eye too; it shouldn’t have surprised you, sitting with your two closest friends sipping tea, it wasn’t hard to miss the cutie dressed in a suit who’d just walked through the door. Even harder to miss when he kept stealing glances at you in the hope you wouldn’t notice; you were clearly slightly more skilled at being discreet. You could guess he was early 30s, maybe a little nervous about whatever he was here for. The folder seated next to him on the plush bench seats probably meant it was a business meeting. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, but it did mean – if you found yourself to be correct - he wasn’t meeting his girlfriend (or wife, but you hadn’t noticed a ring) for lunch before he went back to work. Eventually you let him catch you looking at him, after you’d pointed him out discreetly to your friends – who for once didn’t turn simultaneously to stare themselves – but did both give you the same look that amounted to Hot Damn. Devour Him. When his blue eyes met yours he froze – immediately looking like a little kid who’d done something wrong. But the smile you gave him was soft – and moments later you received a small smile in return that had you looking back to your drink. It’d been a while since you’d flirted with anyone. You’d had a series of bad breakups in your life and probably hadn’t really dated anyone for a long while. Flirting was easy and usually harmless, so across a quiet restaurant whilst you waited with friends, it kept things interesting. Even though he had to be younger than you were. He certainly looked younger than you; which didn’t bother you either, but you’d never been with someone younger… Still, it continued on through your waiting time, and as he got a little more confident, he suddenly looked a lot older. Darker glint in his eye, smile replaced by a smirk and the occasional lip bite that drove you a bit wild. Enough to make you turn away from him with a laugh to catch yourself for a moment; Damn. But you could flirt back just as intensely as he could, between running your tongue slowly over your lips, the occasional slow wink, skimming your fingertips around the rim of your cup, eyebrows raised with just the right tilt of your head. Doug wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, and why it felt so easy after he’d just spent so long telling his friends, and feeling, like he wasn’t ready for this yet. But it felt so natural, and you were responding in kind. Suddenly he was thinking that maybe he should get back into the game. If it was working on you - so much so it had pulled you away from your conversation with your friends - then maybe it’d work with anyone. You checked your watch, finished your cup and hugged and kissed your girls goodbye, picking up your bag from the floor you looked across to him again, with another smile you shook your head gently and crossed the restaurant. He was very nearly ashamed to say his heart leapt in his chest as you walked, your clothing was beautifully vintage, everything matched and even your walk was graceful – like you’d stepped right out of a daydream. He anticipated you to come to him – and yet Doug had never felt disappointment like when you didn’t, making your way to the door. Was that really it? You stopped at the greeting desk and there was politely animated conversation for a minute, before you turned and looked back across the restaurant at him again. “Excuse me, sorry, F/N L/N I’ve got a 12:30 booking for two people? You can just add the bar tab to the meal – that’s fine.” “Oh! Yes, of course Ms. L/N let me just check you in…” The maitre d’ turned back to her list for a moment, “OH! It appears the other half of your party is already here-!” “Huh? Oh, really?” She indicated across the room to the man you’d just spent the past half hour (at least!) furiously flirting with. You had to compose yourself before you turned back to him. No! Was it luck, or just your luck?! ‘My friends are gonna have a FIELD day!’ You thanked her, took a breath, allowed yourself to laugh and walked across to him. His lips parted as you approached his table, and Doug wasn’t sure that he liked that your face was unreadable. You unshouldered your bag and looped it around the back of the chair opposite him – before you beamed, “You’re Doug Peterson!” He immediately stood; “Y-Yeah! Oh, yo-you’re-!” “F/N L/N. Yes-! You’re not what I expected…” He held his hand out for you to shake, “I mean I-” He wasn’t sure exactly how to take that, so opted to simply shut up, but blush dusted his cheeks, and it made him look a lot cuter than he already was. “I think you already know that’s a compliment!” Your smile was polite, but you had no intention of taking your flirting any further. Not when what you’d called him about in the first place was so important. His laugh was nervous as you both seated yourselves and polite introductory conversation continued as you chose your meals, and it didn’t take much for you to persuade him into one glass of wine. Between courses Doug slid his portfolio from beside him and onto the table. “So I mean, I guess we’re both really here for this. As nice as it is to talk to you.” His grin was charming, and he knew precisely what he was doing, half of you wondered exactly why there was no ring on his finger. Who wouldn’t have taken up that opportunity as soon as it arose? And he didn’t seem like the headstrong business type who has married to his work. You couldn’t help but bite your lip through your smile as that, running the tip of your finger around your wine glass, “Yeah. I guess all I really said I wanted was advertising.” “Print. And a lot of it, by the sounds of things.” “Mhm. It suits the audience; posters, billboards and magazine print. These kids will be doing similar to what I used to, so-” You paused, “Right, yeah, I…” you laughed and Doug’s heart threatened to leap from his chest for just a second, “I should explain. I’m opening a dance company. Possibly a school, too, in time – I’ll be both director and choreographer. I need dancers for a company, or, prospective students!” His eyebrows raised, “You’re a dancer?” You smiled gently, “I didn’t think you knew a lot about ballet. That’s probably better for you.” “Ballet?” He shook his head, “I’m sorry. I- I wish I did. But, it’s artsy, I love the form and, pictures of ballerinas and dancers; that would be striking in any advert, let alone a ballet company. Which’d make sense. You still dance?” “Retired. Just…” You giggled gently, “Doug, I’m not just a dancer – to anyone in the circles I move in I’m the dancer. And now I’m at least semi-retired I want to give back to the profession.” You placed your hand over the portfolio; “I’ve seen your work, and it’s… incredible. Visually stunning and very well written. I know that my name is going to take this places… What I need is to partner with someone who doesn’t look at my name and have their eyes light up in dollar signs.” You pulled the folder off the counter and opened it, you were right, all his work was phenomenal, the way he used space, and colour – and he ran from comedic to serious; there wasn’t anything that Doug Peterson hadn’t covered. “You could have anyone.” “I don’t want anyone.” Your eyes met his again and for a moment the statement hung with more significance than you should have given it; “I want someone whose heart and soul comes alive on the page. Someone who is as passionate about what he writes, and what he visualises, as I am about the company and dancing.” You flipped the book around for him, “No corporation who would love to have my name on their client list would produce work like this, or care about it like you do. Which is exactly why I want you to do this, if you want to.” His nod was enthusiastic, “I mean, I might need a little help with the technicalities but, God, I’d love the challenge and the opportunity, Y/N.” First, he knew he’d have to look you up. He supposed everyone in the dancing community would know your name, and Doug would have to make it look like he did to. But research was always fun – and you’d give him all the support he needed. “Good, because I’d love to be the client of someone whose work is this amazing.” You passed the portfolio back, and held up your wine glass, “To our partnership, Doug Peterson.” “Yeah,” He clinked his to yours and smiled, “let’s make it a good one!”

You continued to talk, and Doug was almost disappointed that you acted so professionally. It was almost as if all the flirting was forgotten, although there was a sparkle in your eyes still, like it was hiding. However, he still admired that professionalism and, as you got to learn a little bit more about each other, he started to formulate ideas that he already couldn’t wait to mock up and show you. Doug still couldn’t help but flirt on occasion though; he liked the way you’d smile when he did it – he liked that you were actually interested in him, not just his work. Already he knew you’d be capable of great things together, and maybe not all of them would have to do with advertising. You both said goodbye far too soon, but you had each other’s cards and numbers. As he turned back at the door with a grin and said he already had a head of ideas, and he had to run before he forgot any of them, your heart actually skipped a beat. Doug couldn’t leave you without giving a wink, and took victory in the blush that crossed your cheeks before he strolled out of the restaurant. You gave it a few moments, watching him until he was out of sight before taking a deep breath and retreating back inside. Your friends were still sitting at the bar, by now finished with their own food, and both of them staring at you with raised eyebrows; “Tell me you knew!!” “I had NO idea I swear-!” You shook your head, “Was that mad-!? That was mad, right!? Does stuff like that really happen-!” “Typical of you though-!” “Thanks!” You blew out a breath and ran your hands through your hair; “…My god.” “You’re flushed!” “Thanks! I realised…!” You sat on the edge of one of the stools, “I haven’t felt like this since-” It wasn’t a thought you wanted, but an altogether incredible realisation. “So. He’s going to be your advertiser?” “Mhm!” You nodded, “He’s going home to mock up designs for me…” “Aw, c’mon, Y/N! Look atcha! What’s his name?!” You knew then as you turned to them and smiled, exactly what you were feeling; “Doug Peterson.” ***

You’d already got the studio set up, and a few other dancers - good friends of yours - were on your staff. Your current goal was the official opening, a couple of months away – hence the advertising project. It looked like a venture that’d been worked on long before you got Doug involved, the building largely refurbished and with a modern flare that offset your vintage look. He took photographs to get a good idea of what he was working with to meld with his mock ups – which you’d already seen and approved of. It didn’t take him very long to become more aware of you, and what Doug really wanted was you on the advertisement. “Is it cliché? I’d just like some classic ballet poses. Sure, I could just hire anyone – but it’d make more sense if it was you… even if it’s not your face.” Doug wasn’t so sure you wanted your face plastered on everything when your name already was. But you agreed to do it and he hired a photographer. He was well aware that he had feelings for you that maybe he shouldn’t. You were still his client at the end of the day and Doug wanted to keep it professional – but all he could think about was the way you’d been staring at him across the restaurant, and much as he tried he could never quite get it out of his head. All he wondered was if you had the same problem. Having you turn up to a photoshoot and watching the serene grace of classic ballet positions that Doug didn’t have a clue about until about a week previously – luckily, he’d hired a photographer who knew what they were talking about – was mesmerising; and he stood in flustered silence. By the time Doug was finished he assumed he was going to make a lot of people very happy at getting the opportunity to work with you. He walked you back to your car, explaining his admiration for your work and your strength, reeling off position names that made you quite proud. He liked that you were pleased that he’d studied you; at the cute way you giggled as he admitted just how much he’d researched. You started inviting him over to discuss ideas, and the first time Doug had pulled up in your driveway he’d been in awe of your house. Oddly humble for an ex-prima ballerina, and a little out in the country. It was also as modern as your studio had been, an upside-down house with stairs to the front door; “One day you’re going to have to explain why everything about you in modern aside from the way you dress!” Doug always did like that small mysterious smile you gave him, “Maybe I like that I’m hard to figure out…” You pondered it for a moment, before fixing him with the same significant look he was always giving you, “Having said that, maybe if you stick around for long enough you’ll answer your own question.” That was enough for him and in a more relaxed, and personal, setting as you got to know each other even better – professional was nearly thrown out the window. The entire campaign became a long string of endlessly flirty emails and texts, where often times one of you would have to throw in; ‘this is about the advert… right?’ The only response you ever gave to that was ‘Of course it is… or is it? 😉’ Which drove Doug crazy in every sense of the word. Yet his favourite place to be was with you, sitting up on your back veranda (which he also had to note overlooked a stunning valley) just throwing ideas around. Often you’d sit yourself on the wooden balustrade and ramble, with him lounging back in a chair with a sketch pad, and by the end of it he’d have filled up 5 or 6 pages with sketches or notes. But he was always back in time to collect Dillon from school, and didn’t overstay his welcome either. You’d keep him around if you could, but understood what was really important, even when all he told you was that he had to go and offered no further information. You knew private meant private and let him live that life. Before long he was showing you finalized drafts, and all that was left to do was pick which ones were going to print - on opening night flyers, or be seen all through the streets of Sydney. And that day made Doug dispirited – he didn’t want this to end so soon. “It’ll be weird not working with you on this…” “Oh?” You smiled, “What, you don’t think I’m going to call you every opportunity I get to have you do more advertising? I’ll need someone when we start doing shows and events.” He took his chance, with a confident deep breath; “Maybe you should just call me anyway?” You bit your lip gently, “Alright, maybe I will.” Although there was no maybe about it, you knew you would. You knew that was all you really wanted to do. You’d got closer and closer, and you felt comfortable around each other. Enough for you to finally be yourself; heck you’d even started dressing more relaxed around him. And one thing was for sure you couldn’t get the look he’d given you - and the way he’d swallowed hard - the first time you opened the door to him in shorts and a loose shirt, out of your head. Like you’d just stepped out of some kind of fantasy. A strange fantasy maybe, but then again you knew you were dressing down for him. You had both fallen pretty hard – even from that first restaurant conversation and you were certainly still falling for Doug now. For the first time in a while, you actually wanted to take a leap of faith with a guy. And it almost scared you how much you trusted him. *** Doug expected an invitation to opening night out of courtesy for the work he’d done. He could turn up and admire it for maybe an hour and then get back home. What he didn’t expect was a personal invitation from you, with a hand written note which left no doubt as to how much you needed him there and how much his hard work meant to you. In reality it was just a lot of words trying to express how much he meant to you. You weren’t so great at eloquence. You were trying to tell him that you couldn’t lose him, without sounding a little too desperate about it. As if you thought that was a possibility; like you didn’t recognise how much he swooned over you. Perhaps you still weren’t prepared to admit you knew he was interested – and Doug was just as hesitant. He didn’t want to rush into it, and yet he craved the intimacy of a relationship again. Even though he’d been divorced only months, it wasn’t like Ali and he had been close before it happened. He wanted someone to love him, but it wasn’t just a someone; he was still very iffy about the dating scene and he wasn’t about to go have a drunken one-night stand – he wanted that person to be you. Doug didn’t want to get hurt, yet, knew you’d be worth the risk. You looked stunning, and he had to physically stop to take you in for a moment. You always looked good, even when you were just sitting in shorts and a shirt with your hair pulled up – when, if the sun was on you for long enough, little freckles would start to appear across your face. Though that was an image he was probably privileged to see, Doug thought that was when you looked best. But your personality radiated warmth and light, and all he ever wanted was you closer. It went both ways – as you glanced across to him, dressed in a sharper suit than the one he’d been wearing when you first met and the smile that crossed his face as you caught his eye, Doug Peterson very nearly took your breath away. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having and crossed the room to him; knowing right then that you had to make this man yours – and you had to be his. Both of you blushed your way through the introductory conversation and you couldn’t help but turn to the room full of people admiring his work, because of course he’d put together designs and posters for some of your studio ideas too. And they were also on display, alongside photographs of the building’s transition; and some well-known images of your more famous roles. “Look at this-! It’s all you! And they all love it!” You couldn’t have looked happier, “I mean, I, I hope you’re proud of it.” “Yeah.” He agreed, feeding off your enthusiasm, “How many people can say they’ve had an opportunity like this? It’s…” Doug paused for a moment, “…Some of my best. Even I know that.” Then he turned back to you, “Thank you for the opportunity.” You shook your head, thinking it crazy that the designer should be thanking his client; “Thank you for making my crazy ideas a reality.” “Don’t mention it, it’s my job.” “Yeah but,” You turned back to the room, “you went above and beyond for me, I can never thank you enough.” He laughed, “At this rate, all you’re gonna do is thank me-!” “You’re right!” You joined his laugher, “But don’t expect me to stop on that account!” You spent your evening walking around the event with him, even when he thought excusing himself might give you time to breathe, to be the centrepiece you were meant to be. But you touched his arm gently to bring him back; “No, Doug, please… stay with me? I- I’d very much like it if you stayed with me tonight.” So he did, as you introduced him around, even when you were doing press you kept him near (except when he wandered to get drinks – and on a couple of occasions was accosted by those that wanted him to take on their advertising campaigns!), and made sure he got the credit whenever anyone gave you kudos for his work. How he’d simply take the compliment and give one to you in turn, and for a moment all you could do was look at each other and recognise the pink dusting your cheeks. Eventually Doug took a leap, even if it could have been of liquid confidence considering the champagne being served, and during one of these compliment sessions he reached out and took your hand. You didn’t pull away from him, you didn’t even flinch, instinctively lacing your fingers with his. That’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, with your smile even sweeter than it was before. And Doug got to stand beside you and watch his effect on you; hyperfixating on how it felt to have your fingers entwined with his – smiling so much his face hurt? You best believe it. After everything wound down, and Doug started to watch check (only because he thought the babysitters bill was going to be astronomical by now), you began to reflect on not just the evening, but the past few months. You got the feeling that you were going to be one of those couples that didn’t even have to say you were together – that you just would be, by mutual agreement. You collected your things and he held out his hand for yours again as you left, this time you held him tighter – desperate to savour every moment you got to be touched by him. “Some night, huh?” “Amazing. Now I guess the real work begins for me…” You chuckled, “I couldn’t have done it without the hard graft from you. I’m just glad it’s all been worth it.” “You can say that again.” Doug breathed it, eyes raised to the night sky and the stars glinting there, knowing that he hardly meant the campaign at all. You turned to him, to watch the way the stars reflected perfectly in his eyes and your heart swelled for a moment; how in the hell were you here? How did you just happen across this man? Nothing in your entire life had worked out this perfectly – so why him, and why now? And why in God’s name were you asking so many questions-!? He turned to you and the way you were looking at him, and slowed his walking pace; thinking it was about time he took that second leap. For some reason you were thinking too hard and didn’t even see it coming, as he leant in. You got so caught up that your question of what are you doing? also went unvoiced before his lips were on yours. And you wouldn’t deny him that either. Keeping your hand in his, you wrapped your other arm around his neck to practically beg him to keep kissing you. That gave Doug enough confidence to wind his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Neither of you wanted to stop, and yet it continued to get late and he knew that he really had to go. Breaking the kiss gently he kept close to you, and as your eyes met again you knew you were right. Together. No words necessary. *** It was late evening when your phone alerted you to a text message; ‘You home?’ You weren’t sure where else Doug expected you to be, so you told him you were. ‘Wanna come down to Js?’ J’s was a bar in downtown Sydney. Your eyes flicked to the time again, you could probably get down there in 30 minutes. ‘Sure, give me 30, are you okay?’ ‘I just don’t wanna drink alone.’ That was fair enough, but you could read him well enough to know there was something much more to it than that. When you arrived, Doug was clearly already a few glasses into a heavy night, and you just ordered whatever he was drinking – which turned out to be some pretty strong whisky. You waited for him to come to you with whatever it was, because you knew the real reason you were here wasn’t drinking. Doug took a deep breath; “Look I… I’ve just been thinking…” Thinking and drinking had never been a good combination, but right now it was your turn to listen to him, and only speak when your advice was wanted. You nodded in encouragement, and he took another sip. “I just- When we hang out we’re always out. You know, either in town like this, or at your place, or around where you live, but I…” he paused, “I think you probably deserve to know why, I just-” You lay your hand on his arm and rubbed affectionate circles, unsure why he’d think it mattered to you. Maybe he lived with friends, or he rented a one room place downtown, maybe he was embarrassed about such things – he knew how much you cared about him, right? Doug knew that you’d never judge a person on anything other than their own merit; or perhaps you just hadn’t made that clear. You were starting to want to kick yourself if that was ever the impression you’d given this sweet man. “Doug, whatever you tell me it’s going to be okay; I promise.” “Is it?” Though he seemed to be questioning himself more than you, “I mean you hear about things happening like this with single mums, but-” for a second you were caught a little off guard, because it seemed so out of left field for him to say. Suddenly you realised where he was going with this; Doug was in fact the single parent. “I mean, I live with my young son. So, I… I’m a single father just trying to figure this out. I- I mean I didn’t think I’d find someone as special as you so soon, and I-” He hesitated again. Stumbling over his words he threw back the glass, and you were glad the bar was dingy because you were positive that you were glowing as bright as a neon light now, “I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.” You shook your head slowly, “You can stop worrying about that right now.” You squeezed his arm gently, “I won’t leave over something like that, Doug, not ever. Sure, there’s a lot that comes with it but… God, I promise you. I’m sorry you ever had to come down here and worry about something like that!” He was staring at you almost in awe, like there was no way you could be saying this to him. And you wondered what that was, the alcohol? But something had driven him here to think it in the first place – and you found yourself with more questions you wished you could ask, but didn’t want to get too deep with: Who hurt you? Instead you opted for something to follow up what he’d already said; “Do you mind me asking what happened to her?” Doug had used the word single after all, and it was pretty recent you could pick up on that; “And, what’s his name?” “Dillon.” You smiled, that was a sweet name and you made sure to say that too, making Doug laugh. “As for Ali… Well… She cheated on me with my best friend. So, we got divorced.” You were stunned into silence for another moment, that Doug would just out and say it, but the look on his face and bluntness in his voice told you he wasn’t playing. Perhaps the whisky had a part in that; “…What… the… oh my god I’m so sorry-!” “I have sole custody of him and she’s got visitation rights, and that’s the way it goes.” You shook your head, finding yourself inexplicably mad – that explained that lack of ring you’d been curious about, though; “Okay this… this could be seriously crossing the line here – but what a freakin’ bitch! And oh my god, what an asshole – Doug, honey, you can do so much better…” you leant on the bar, wishing that you could find something better to say, “I mean you have me now. And thank god. Geez, babe, that sucks.” He stared at the bar for a second, and then propped his head up, hand on his brow – and suddenly Doug Peterson was pouring out months of history to you. How him and Ali didn’t even seem to be working anymore, but of course he wanted to hold on for his son, he wanted to believe there was still love there because he sure as hell still loved her at the time. And heck, maybe he should have known. But how he’d only ever been suspicious at the barbeque that one time and it all came to a head one weekend, when he caught them having phone sex, of all things. It was a hard thing to hear anyone say, let alone him. How he kept using the word ‘maybe’. Maybe I wasn’t around enough, maybe I was too focused on work, maybe I didn’t love her enough, maybe I didn’t try hard enough... You hated that it was so conditional and uncertain. “Baby,” You touched him reassuringly again, “if you have to use the word ‘maybe’ then she never told you, which means there wasn’t any communication. She didn’t even try to help you understand, she just went and did it. It is in no way your fault, or anything you ever did wrong. It was clearly more than once and he could have told her no! There’s no moment of weakness - it was continuous. Baby, you got out of there quick and I’m proud of you for having the strength to do that.” You found yourself not only hating two people you’d never met, but wanting to drive to wherever the hell they were and give them a piece of your mind. But there was so much else he was really telling you, and you had to stop him before he got to deep. In case he started saying things he’d end up regretting; before he was ready to say them. Instead you took him in your arms and pulled him closer; “Doug it doesn’t matter to me – who you are, or what’s going on, or why. Baby… I just know that I love you. For the first time in so long I actually… love someone.” You stoked a hand through his hair, kissing it, “And I promise, I’m going to love you better than she ever did.” You couldn’t help your small gasp, the joy in your heart as his arms wrapped around you, “I’m just so sorry this ever happened to you. Because no one deserves this.” “Maybe I do.” “Don’t you dare.” That only made you hold him tighter, “Whatever you’ve done does not warrant the betrayal of your wife and your best friend. You have your company now, and your life, and me, and more importantly than that, your son…” You continued to card your hand through his hair; “Which, really, warrants the only other question I have left.” “Which is?” He looked up at you curiously, and you grinned, “When do I get to meet Dillon?” *** He gave it a few weeks to settle; both the new information and for Doug to solicit with his son that he was seeing someone new. Of course, he’d told Dillon of your existence – especially seen as he liked to show his son what he was working on - but Doug wanted him to be alright with the idea of the two of you together before he brought you over. All it prompted from his son was questions, and Doug realised as he spoke about you, just how much he enjoyed talking about you – and the way even just thinking about you made him feel. Suddenly it wasn’t too early at all – it was all just perfect timing. He was meant to find something better, and he finally had. So when you did arrive on his doorstep right on time for dinner, dressed in pretty vintage as ever, all Doug Peterson did was fall in love all over again. “You look good.” “Aw!” You accepted his kiss, “Well, I could tell you I didn’t buy this outfit just to meet your son but… I’d probably be a liar…” You studied him for a minute, soft dark purple shirt and smart pants with his sleeves rolled up; Doug had brushed up nicely. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” “Ah! Well you know, good first impressions and all that.” He led the way through to the kitchen, “Right this way…” admittedly you were impressed with the house too, it was comfortable, and you instantly felt at home. “…Don’t trip over the child.” You were about to ask exactly what he meant; only lying in front of the oven was a 7 (though as he would say later “nearly eight!!”) year old kid. Doug raised an eyebrow at you, “Apparently it helps cookies bake faster, and who am I to argue with that logic.” “Cookies?” You were a little amused “Yeah. We, well, he wanted to make you cookies, so we made you cookies.” “Aw.” “Only we lost track of time trying to decide what dinner was gonna be, so they’re still baking. Hey, Dillon, I know you want them perfect but you should really meet the lady they’re for, huh?” At this Dillon leapt from the floor and turned to you, face immediately lighting up, “Y/N!” “Hey, Dillon!” You crouched slightly as he ran to you for a hug; “I’m sorry they aren’t done! Dad said we had time-” “Would be my fault.” Doug scoffed folding his arms. “-So we don’t have time to ice them.” “Oh, that’s okay.” You smiled, “It’s very sweet of you to make them for me – thank you!” You nodded back to the oven, “Go on, you go make sure they’re perfect.” He returned your smile sweetly, “Thank you!” and resumed his position on the kitchen floor. Doug shook his head, “Have you ever heard of putting icing on chocolate chip cookies, though?” You laughed, “First time for everything-!” “God help us. Now, wine?” “I would love a glass, thank you.” Whilst the cookies were left to cool, the three of you sat down to dinner – apparently the two of them were very into cooking. “It’s the new hobby – if we aren’t outside playing soccer, its in the kitchen cooking.” - which meant they’d made the meal together - “Well, I’m not irresponsible!” Doug explained, “He did the easy bits, you know.” That only made you laugh, as if you thought he would be an irresponsible parent at all. Also, Dillon seemed a little disgruntled at being discredited by his dad. But he liked telling you about all his favourite things, which only made Doug beam at how much interest you took; So who is your favourite team?... OH! Yeah, no, they’re doing pretty good this year!... What’s your favourite school subject?… Oh man, that sounds hard I don’t think I could do that… But Dillon was also interested in you; “Dad said you were a dancer.” “I retired, yeah. I mean I’ll probably still do a little here and there, but my prima-ballerina days are over.” “He showed me pictures; it looks very difficult.” “It takes a lot of practice, that’s for sure, a little like your soccer does. Same kinda strength involved but in a different way.” “But I thought retirement was for old people?” Doug gave him a look, “Dillon.” “No – It’s okay! 35 is ‘old’ for a dancer, you know? We do a lot of practicing and rehearsals, and then sometimes it’s two shows a day! Then there’s touring… It takes a lot out of your body.” Dillon’s eyes flicked between you and Doug; “So you’re the boss here.” “What-!?” Doug folded his arms and narrowed his eyes slightly at the logic (or lack there of). “She’s the oldest, that makes her the boss.” Seemed logical. You looked to Doug, and winked “HA! I’m the boss.” But this sweet family banter continued on through dinner, and dessert – although apparently the cookies were for an undisclosed time of later - and honestly you didn’t think you’d ever had such a good time on a date ever. Here you were getting two cuties for the price of one date, whether they knew that or not. They were so alike it was highly amusing for you to watch them joke with each other or bicker; all it left you realising was you’d lucked on an incredible thing. You weren’t sure you knew many people who had dated someone with kids. And although you’d never planned on ending up in such a situation yourself, you thought that those who never had were missing out. It got later and later, and to the point where you thought you should really be heading off; “No, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to go. We have a spare room – and I’m a little worried about how much you’ve drunk and I could never. Stay, it’s fine, you can stay over!” “Oh no, I should go home.” You’d been paying attention to your drink intake and you knew you’d be fine, although it was sweet of him to offer. But Doug took your hand, his eyes very nearly pleading with you; “Please stay, for us.” “We want you to stay, Y/N, pleeeeeeeeease?” You looked across the table to Dillon, surprised to hear his voice; killed instantly by the fact that they were both giving you the same look. “How… how am I supposed to deal with both of you-!?” That didn’t make things any easier, and you couldn’t help but break, with a smile; “Okay, okay… I’m going to stay.” “AH!” Doug turned and they high-fived each other; “We got her, bud!” And you meant it. You were going stay, and you were going to be his, and only his. You were never going to let either of them get hurt again – and that you were going to promise. *** “So, do you want to watch something. Cuz, I figure the cookies aren’t gonna wanna be eaten alone, you know we need a movie or something.” You laughed, leaning on your hand, “That sounds like a good suggestion, Mr.Peterson.” Doug’s smile was bashful, but he turned to Dillon, “You go and pick one, mate!” Immediately the little boy scrambled from his seat and ran off into another room. “We have a wall of movies; I think you’ll like it.” “Oh really?” You had to admit he’d piqued your interest. “Yeah. He’ll only pick the same one I’ve been forced to watch 300 times this week – don’t worry, I won’t give you spoilers…” He tipped back on his chair and, making sure that Dillon wasn’t coming back any time soon, Doug took your hand, running his thumb affectionately over the back of it, “Hey, you’re doing really well. I know he like’s asking a lot of questions but, thank you for interacting with him like this it… means a lot.” “Are you kidding?” You were beaming, “Dillon’s adorable!” You tilted your head, “A little like his dad.” “Oh, okay,” Doug chuckled, but you could already see the blush rising in his cheeks, “you stop!” You felt yourself smirk a little, “Maybe you should kiss me to make sure I do.” Doug’s blue eyes turned suddenly playful; “Heck, I’m just gonna kiss you anyway.” And so he leant across, brushing his lips to yours, and tasted just as sweet as he was. Your kiss was only slightly interrupted by the sound of Dillon running back into the room and you broke apart to turn to him; “THIS is my favourite!” He held it out for you to see, and the look on Doug’s face told you that this was indeed the movie he’d seen 300 times. “That’s cool with me!” “Awesome.” Doug pushed out his chair and stood, “Dillon go set it up, I’ll clear up.” “Don’t forget the cookies!” “I won’t forget your cookies…” Then he nodded to the couch, “Go on, you go relax.” “I want to help.” “Nuh uh, you’re the guest, sit down-!” “Alright…” You held up your hands, which only made him cackle and turn back to his son, “See! She’s the boss my ass-!” You couldn’t help shaking your head after him, and allowing your eyes to flick down his body as he walked away, folding your arms; “You better be careful with that cute ass-!” Doug halted almost immediately and spun back to you, a little blushy and his mouth open; it was clear that his protest was ‘there’s a child present!!!’ but that he also knew full well he had started it. And to his credit, you didn’t see him complaining with your flirt. Once he’d cleared away Doug joined you on the couch. Winding his arm around you as you cuddled into him, and placed the cookies on the coffee table before offering you one. “They’re Dillon’s special recipe, so, all compliments to the chef.” You bit into one and couldn’t help the groan of appreciation, the consistency was just right for your taste – and so, compliments did indeed go to the chef. Dillon beamed at your praise, before he took a couple for himself and lay down on the floor again – Doug rolled his eyes. “Well, I thought getting him to sit to the table properly for ya was too good to be true.” That only made you giggle, “Aw, let him be a kid!” “You won’t say that later when he’s climbing all over you, I can tell ya!” That wasn’t necessarily true, but eventually Dillon did get bored of lying on the floor and pulled himself up onto the couch to sit between the two of you, opting to shuffle his body into the perfect position so that you could still cuddle. You and Doug shared the same ‘Oh! Okay!’ look of significance, before Doug pulled him onto his lap properly, “C’mere!” and in that position you all stayed for the remainder of the film. But Dillon did reach for your hand, and for a moment your breath caught – if there was one thing you didn’t expect from tonight, it was for Doug’s kid to just love you. For a moment you welled up and Doug definitely caught that, pulling you closer before kissing your hair – the significance was just as great for him after all. Doug couldn’t have wished for a better start to his new life. As the credits rolled Doug tapped his son; “Alright you, it’s way past your bedtime!” “No!” “No?! I’ll show you no! Come on-! Bed, now. You’re lucky you’ve been allowed to stay up this long! Be good and say goodnight.” Doug slipped himself off the couch, allowing Dillon to hug you tight; “But dad, I’ll miss her---!” Doug placed his hands on his hips and tried his best not to look exasperated; “Mate, c’mon, you’ll see her again in the morning.” “Ohhh…” Dillon pouted before hugging you again, “Goodnight, Y/N…” “Goodnight Dillon, thank you for dinner, and the incredible cookies!” He beamed once more, “Thank you! You may have the rest, dad’s not allowed any.” Doug sighed, before picking him up, “She’s dating me mate, I’m sure I can wrangle at least one more out of her! Now come on-!” By this time Dillon was giggling, “See you in the morning, Y/N!” “I said that!” “Just making sure she heard ya!” Doug grinned, which only made you smile, and joke with him “Oh thank god, this one might last long enough for me to see him again!” “Shut up! Don’t you be cheeky! I get enough from him-!” But he laughed and leant down to kiss you once more. *** Once Dillon was tucked up in bed, Doug rejoined you on the couch for another few glasses of wine, cradling your body close to his as every so often he would kiss your face and your hair. He was happy and relieved that you and his son got along, as you were amazed that Dillon liked you as much as he did; overjoyed in fact. Really tonight couldn’t have gone much better; and as you sat together talking, late evening ticked into early morning and you both agreed that you should probably get some sleep before the sun rose. As he also warned you that Dillon would be dragging you out of bed for breakfast as soon as he was able. He handed you a bundle of towels and blankets and some toiletries; “Spare room is down there… it has an en suite so you should be fine. Is there anything else you need?” “uhm, if I could borrow a shirt, or…” A cocky smirk crossed his face; “I mean, I didn’t think I’d get to see you in my clothes this early in the relationship, but…” You smacked his arm, “Stop!” “I’ll get you one, go get ready.” “If you’re trying to prove that I’m not the boss…” You gave him an accusatory look He held his hands up, “Oh I wouldn’t dream of it, my ass has been threatened enough!” You nodded as you walked up the corridor, and called back – “At least you know what’s good for ya… damn, you do have a nice ass though!” He didn’t say anything, but the silence told you everything, and Doug Peterson was a nice shade of red as he watched you disappear into the room. When you’d finished getting ready you opened the door to a soft dark grey shirt left on the end of the bed, which you slipped into, folding all your clothes neatly and placing them on the chair you decided to go wandering in search of a goodnight kiss, and say thank you of course, they really didn’t have to ask you to stay. His bedroom door was open when you arrived at, and you knocked politely “Oh! Hey! You alright?” Your immediate answer was probably no, considering he was shirtless – and your body’s reaction to that made you feel like you were about 20 years younger. “Yeah, I was just going to come and say goodnight.” By now Doug’s eyes were tracing you; it was big on him so it didn’t exactly reveal much – but it was still you in his clothing, and just a shirt – so your legs were on show, and damn, as a dancer… He blew out an audible breath and quite forgot where his train of thought was leading. Probably to a goodnight, but it wasn’t anymore. You bit your lip, knowing you were both just staring at each other; he had a good physique, and clearly looked after himself – you already got the feeling he ate well and it wouldn’t surprise you if he worked out, especially if Dillon was into sports. But this man was looking at you, and you weren’t about to shy away from that, in fact right now that was the last thing on your mind. “What… what if I didn’t sleep in the spare room?” Doug swallowed hard and his eyes met yours. By the time that happened there was a confident smile on his face; “If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you suggested it first.” You didn’t know if you were supposed to tell him how good it felt for his arms to be around you and his body to be this close to you; the way his fingertips brushed in patterns over your arms that very nearly soothed you to sleep. Doug wasn’t sure he was supposed to tell you how happy he was to get to hold you and not have to think of anything else, the shape of your body curved into his – his bed just not being empty. But you – he got to share it with you, and even now he hoped he’d not have to share it with anyone else. He turned to lay on his back for a moment, a little overcome with a whole lot of different emotions, some of which he’d rather not let you know about; but he kept one arm under you. That could well have been a fatal mistake, because you knew exactly why he’d do something like that; and you could hear the shallow breaths he was taking. Doug was tense even if he was trying to relax. Oh…Doug… Is that how you feel, baby? But it only made you smirk, because that feeling was mutual. And all you wanted to do was tell him that; tracing your fingers over his as he lay still, you shuffled slightly, to take his hand in yours. “I feel so small when you wrap your arms around me…” It was quiet, almost like a muse that you hadn’t meant to slip out, but of course you had. You rolled your body to free his arm, shirt riding up just enough, and you guided Doug’s hand over you, gazing your skin. You turned your head and although he was staring at the ceiling you made sure to look right at him, eyes and voice equally seductive. “I never thought I would meet someone that gets me so damn hot…” He stiffened and for a minute it was like he couldn’t breathe, but he was also struggling hard to keep the biggest smirk from creeping across his face, as you lowered your voice to a sultry whisper “I want your hands on me. I want your eyes on me. I want all of you…” Doug’s fingers were below your stomach now, and you were dangerously close to getting away with this, before he turned his head – his eyes were wide and alert - but his whole face read intrigued; “Holy shit! You’ve got a mouth on ya-!” You knew exactly why he was saying that, and why his hand was no longer going to move without his say so. Doug wanted to be in control of this; but also, God YES did he want you to talk dirty to him. It was so far removed from the sweet, polite, proper, almost innocent look and tone you usually used that it just turned him on. You smirked at him, biting your lip gently as you traced your eyes from his lips to his eyes and back again; “Oh, maybe you should blame yourself… And put it to good use.” Doug chuckled, “Well get over here then.” But you had no choice in that either, as he pulled you into him. Maybe you’d be fighting over this ‘boss’ thing for a while. He did let you initiate the kiss though, running your hands through his hair as he wound his arms around you. You guessed his clothes weren’t really going to be staying on you very long. His lips traced to your jaw line and your neck as his hands eased his shirt up your body; and Doug got his first sigh out of you, which only made him want to work for more of them. And you were alright with that, because all you wanted him to do was kiss your entire body. You craved his lips back on yours and pulled him back to you – if he wanted control you were going to make him work for it. Doug growled gently in response, knowing that, but also being more than up for the challenge, as his hands came to rest on your hips. You broke the kiss for a moment, forehead to his, but your eyes and your body was already telling him everything he needed to know. But you whispered it, like a prayer that would go unanswered if you didn’t; “I really need you right now…”

---

Thank you SO much for reading! 🙏🙊💜

#OKay... can I just... the GIF...? Oh... boi....#Doug Peterson #Ben Mendelsohn #Secret Mens Business #Doug Peterson x Reader #152 #Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #Nea Edevane #Okay first off I love her. I L O V E H E R #Team 10K #He is... he really is something else #and he's gone from /I don't like this because I cant categorise him!!!/#to 10000 words-!?!#That's more than just a 180 thats C R A Z Y #Who is ready for Andy's wedding-!?#Because that's where were heading next lads-!#(And was really what this was supposed to lead into but then I just went off... so here you are!)#Top 3 Mendo. He thoroughly deserves a place in my top 5.

22 notes · View notes