#i saw this man on Instagram again on the weekend and haven’t stopped thinking about him

[haengseon]

can someone please validate my shohei ohtani thoughts i need to know i am not alone in my thoughts about this man because looking at him turns me into head empty no thoughts and it’s so hard to snap myself out of that 😭

[lainiespicewrites]

Coach Sy part 4 "The Date"

Here it is folks! Sy and Alayna's big first date and other things ;) Enjoy let me know what you think! No I promise I'm not stopping here!!

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, Smut! (p in v) , creampie, Dom Sy

Reblogs and comments are always welcome! all mistakes are mine! it's late and I definitely did not proof read because I was on a roll and excited about posting it! I'm sorry in advance for any grammatical errors

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

It was another busy week. We were headed into the second week of October and that meant midterms were right around the corner. And so was fall break. Half of my students were anxious and stressed, they had test anxiety and were worried where this would put them on the class ranking. The others, I couldn’t get them to focus. They had one foot out the door ready for the long weekend, Ready for pumpkin patches and fall leaves. Surely plotting their next instagram post or tik tok or whatever it was they were doing now. 

I actually didn’t see much of Sy during the week, the boys were up against another difficult team this friday so he spent most of his lunches watching tape for practice. We kept things professional when we did run into each other though. It helped that I wasn’t sure how far he wanted to take it after what he’d said saturday. He wanted to be a gentleman. I guess that meant he wasn’t going to kiss me again either until he took me out on a date. I could handle that. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t torture. Logan may be kind and sweet and the perfect gentleman. But he’s also a big fucking tease. And he was doing it on purpose!

I ran into him on Wednesday afternoon in the hallway. I was on my way back in from picking up lunch. He was on his way back to his classroom. He immediately smiled when he saw me

“Well there’s a sight for sore eyes, late lunch darlin?” He asked, leaning against the wall in the hallway. I blushed.

“Hey handsome, yeah, busy afternoon just got the chance to go pick something up.” I responded. Then added “I’ve missed are lunch dates, I haven’t seen much of you this week,” I bit my lip softly waiting for him respond. 

“Yeah, me too, I’d much rather be having you for lunch,” He winked. “But I don’t think that’d be very work appropriate.” He smirked. I felt my face heat up and my eyes went wide. 

“Sy!” I scolded trying so hard to hide my laugh. He cupped the my jaw and brushed his thumb over my cheek. 

“Saturday’s only a few days away Darlin’, I waited over a year for you. Just a few more days and you can see as much of me as you want,” He drawled out chuckling softly. 

My face went completely flush and my heart rate sped up. This had to be what a heart attack felt like. God this man knew what he was doing. My skin felt like it was burning and simultaneously I was puddle on the floor for him. 

“You talk big game for a man that won’t even kiss me,” I teased, finally finding my voice again. I watched him as his eyes flickered behind me and he quickly turned to see if we were alone. 

“I can’t baby, you’re like a drug or something. If I get started with you again I’m not gonna be able to stop. And this aint the right place for that sugar.” He smiled softly. He let his hand fall back to his side. We were in the middle of the hallway surely we couldn’t stand like this forever and not get caught. And he was right. Faculty dating isn’t against the rules. But at the rate we were going we would be fired if we took a step closer to each other right now. 

“I do that much for you?” I asked, unable to hide smile. 

“You do more than that sugar, you’ll see soon enough. I gotta head back to my classroom and get some work done. I’ll see you at the game Friday! You go eat darlin, don’t need you passin out on us,” he gave me one last soft smile before we parted ways and I headed back to my office.  

On thursday night I went to dinner with the girls. And gave them all the details they’d been waiting for. 

“Girl I would have melted! He did not!” Skyler gasped. I laughed and hid my blush behind a sip of wine. 

“And in the middle of the school hallway, you guys are like teenagers,” Hayley shook her head, but smiled. “You better be back by curfew saturday night,” she smirked. I took another bite of the cake we were sharing for dessert and smiled skyler shook her head. 

“I don’t think he plans on taking her back to her house unless he’s staying the night,” She joked. 

“My god you guys can we get through one dinner without discussing my love life,” 

“No, it was non-existent until he came along and we are fully invested. This is better than TV!” Skyler laughed. “Seriously though, I hope you have so much fun saturday night, you haven’t been out on a date in… well a really long time! You deserve this!” 

“He does know you’re like horrible at bowling though right? Like when we used to go in high school your best game was like a 72, you might as well as just dropped it right in the gutter!” Hayley laughed. 

“I tried to tell him! I chuckled. “If anything there will be a lot of laughter. And it’ll be an excuse for him to put his hands on me again.” I wiggled my eyebrows. Hayley rolled her eyes and skyler almost choked on her drink laughing. I love my friends so much! 

Friday felt like it dragged on forever. Sy was busy all day again so I’d only heard from him in his usual “Good morning” text. We were busy in the office starting sign-ups for the first senior college campus field trip, and I skipped lunch so I was starving by the time I packed up my office at the end of the school day. Just as I was about to lock up my office there was a knock on my door. 

I looked up and saw a few of the boys on the football team standing outside of my office. 

“Derek, Matt, Tyler, Can I help you boys?” I smiled. 

“We just wanted to thank you for being at our game last week Ms. P, You’re the best!” Derek spoke first. He was such a sweet kid. He was a shoein for a football scholarship at one of the big universities. 

“Yeah and we heard you were gonna be there tonight too! That’s awesome, Coach says you’re our good luck charm and I think he’s right. No one’s got as much spirit as you!” Tyler laughed. 

“You boys are just trying to butter me up to write your college recommendation letters,” I chuckled. “That’s so sweet of you to say, thank you! I can’t wait to watch you guys play tonight!”

“You rock Ms. Plummer! Oh and uh,” Matt smirked  and stepped out from behind the other two boys I hadn’t noticed he was holding a bouquet of flowers. “Coach sent us to deliver these,” He said extending the vase out to me. 

“Thank you Matt,” I smiled taking them from him and setting them on my desk. “You guys better get home Coach will have your head if you don’t take care of yourselves before the game!” They all smiled 

“We’ll see you tonight Ms. P!” Derek called as they left the office. Shook my head and smiled to my self as picked up the flowers and finally closed up my office. 

Once I got home from work I set the flowers on the counter and noticed there was a little card attached. I pulled off the little envelope and took out the card. 

“Flowers for our gorgeous good luck charm. It’s gonna be a great game! Can’t wait to see you tonight Sugar ;)”  I could feel my cheeks heating up and I smiled to myself. He was too much sometimes. But I loved it. I ate a quick dinner, changed into some jeans and put on Sy’s hoodie I still had from last weekend. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.  I sprayed on a little perfume that he had complimented a while ago. And then headed out the door to get to the game a little early. 

I don’t know why I was trying to impress him. I already had him. But I really enjoyed having his attention. And I missed it so much this week while he was busy. The spot next to his truck was open so I parked next to him. It was starting to feel natural. I liked it. It felt like we belonged together. I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself. 

When I headed toward the field I found him immediately. He was standing on the sidelines talking with the other coaches while the boys were warming up. I walked along the fence that ran along the outside of the track and stood leaned against it waiting for him to see me. One of the other coaches saw me first and smirked. He sent me a little wink before he nudged Sy and nodded in my direction. Sy raised his eyebrow and turned to see what Nick was looking at. I smiled and and waved shyly. “I’ll be back, Nick get the boys started on the next defensive drill, I want ‘em good and focused tonight!” He said barely looking back to catch his assistant coaches response before he strode over to the fence giving me a toothy grin. 

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled as he leaned his hip against the fence. 

“Hey handsome, looks like the boys are in good shape for the game tonight!” I said. He looked out at the field and watched them for a minute and nodded. 

“Yeah, we’re lookin’ even better now that our good luck charm is here. The boys couldn’t wait to give you your flowers.” He chuckled, turning back to face me. 

“Yeah? I’m sure THEY couldn’t,” I smirked. “Thank you they were beautiful, and the card was sweet Sy, you didn’t need to do that.” 

“Gentlemen always, sends flowers on the first date,” He teased. 

“Yeah but it’s not until tomorrow,” I joked. 

“Okay, so maybe I felt bad that i’ve been a little busy this week, just wanted you to know that I’m eager to see you again. I’m always thinking about ya,” he smiled

“Sy,” i blushed

“It’s true, I’m always thinking about your pretty little smile. And those lips.” He paused “The way you taste. And those tits,” He smirked wiggling is eyebrows. 

“Oh my god,” I blushed and folded my arms against the fence hiding my face. “You are ridiculous!” I mumbled against my sleeve. He chuckled. 

“Is that my sweatshirt?” He asked raising an eyebrow. I lifted my head to meet his gaze biting my lip softly. 

“It might be.” I said shyly. 

“So you’ve been thinking about me too,” He smirked. 

“It’s kinda hard not too,” I admitted. He smiled and holding my gaze for a moment before looking back at the field, then behind me at the bleachers. 

“It’s probably not appropriate for us to show PDA around the students like this huh?” He said sadly, “I wanna kiss you so bad,”

“Well, it is technically after work hours, and theres no harm in a good luck kiss.” I smiled batting my eyelashes playfully. 

“I like the way you think Darlin,” He smirked cupping my jaw tilting my face up and pressing his lips to mine softly. We stayed like that for a few seconds breathing each other in. It’d been a long week. Finally we pulled away when one of the players whistled from the sidelines. Sy chuckled and shook his head. 

“Good luch coach.” 

They didn’t need it, the boys played amazing. The predictions would be that this would be a close scoring game, but our team shut them out. The final score was 54 to 10. They had 4 straight consecutive wins this season. They were undefeated so far and if they won again next week it would be the first time in 15 years we’d headed into an undefeated season. Sy was really soaking it up after the game. 

“Well look at you Cowboy.” I smiled waiting against my car as he walked out to his truck after everyone had cleared out. “You’re famous around here now.” 

“Nah, the boys deserve all the credit, they’re the ones putting in the work.” He said humbly. 

“I saw you celebrating you out there, You love this!” I grinned, looking up at him as he stopped right in front of me. “You’re a damn good coach, they wouldn’t be this good without you,” I put my hand on his chest and the other on his shoulder pulling him closer. 

“With a beauty like you cheering us on we’re unstoppable baby,” He said softly grabbing my belt loops and pulling me against him kissing me roughly. I let him bit my lip and slip his hands down to squeeze my ass before I pulled away and pushed him back softly with my hand on his chest. 

“Slow down Tiger, you haven’t taken me out yet remember?” I smirked. He groaned dropping his head to my shoulder breaking heavily against my neck. “Whats got you all riled up captain?

“You showing up in my hoodie, kissing me like that, acting all shy,  you’re such a tease baby,” he growled. 

“Me? And your little stunt in the hallway this week wasn’t teasing? I couldn’t focus for the rest of the day! And I couldn’t kiss you then!” I pouted. He smirked. 

“Yeah I guess that wasn’t fair was it?” He brushed my hair back away from my face and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Okay, we better get out of here before I try and take you home with me again,”

“One more day Logan, you did this to yourself!” I winked. “It’ll be worth it.” He chuckled.

“I’ll pick you up around 7:30 for dinner, the bowling thing starts at 9 is that okay?” He asked. 

I nodded “That sounds perfect Sy! I’ll see you then,” I said walking  around to the drivers side of my car and opening the door. 

“Get home safe, Text me when you get home.” He said as he got in his truck. 

“I will!”

The next day I was so anxious. Logan and I had been out together before but this was different. I could barely eat I was so nervous. I sat around trying to get some housework done, but I couldn’t even nervous clean. So I sat down and tried to get some reading done, but then there was a spicy scene in the book I was reading and, well my mind wandered to Sy and I was nervous all over again. Finally 6 o’clock rolled around and I let myself start to get ready. I pulled on a pair of tight jeans I hoped he’d like. Not that it would matter. By the end of the night I knew  they’d be off.  I put on a dark green v neck. I’ve noticed he seems to like that color. We would eventually have to switch to bowling shoes so I just put on a pair of converse and paced while I tried to figure out what to do with my hair and how much make up I should do. Then I panicked again because, Should I pack a bag? 

It’s very likely I’ll end up at his place again. Unless he doesn’t want me to stay over. I don’t want to assume. Maybe I should text him. No because I didn’t want him to know I was thinking about what we’d be doing later. But I was. And I’m sure he was. This was Ridiculous. I picked up my phone and sent a quick text. 

“Do gentlemens let their ladyfriends sleepover on the first date?” I sent. That sounds so stupid, He’s gonna think your stupid. He’s literally gonna call you and cancel the whole thing. My phone buzzed and I jumped a little lost in thought and anxiety. 

“When they’re lucky enough to have a date as sexy as you they do ;)” He replied. Okay so maybe I’m not stupid. 

“Would it be unladylike and presumptuous for me to be prepared for said occasion?” I texted back. Instead of texting my phone rang. I answered him quickly

“Hello?” I giggled. 

“Hey Darlin’ I was just getting ready to come pick you up and I was thinking, Do you wanna stay at my place tonight?” I could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Sy,” I chuckled “You didn’t have to.” he shushed me. 

“Listen baby, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but the way we’ve been going at it this week, I figured I may as well formally ask.” He was holding back laughter.

“I’d be honored to stay with you tonight, I’ll pack a back,” I teased.  He chuckled 

“Good girl, I’ll see you in 20 baby,” we hung up and bit my lip shaking my head to myself. He was so damn cute! I finished getting ready and threw a few overnight essentials in a bag. Just as I was double checking everything there was a knock on my door. I grabbed my purse and bag and opened the door to see Sy with another bouquet of flowers and a big grin. 

“Hey gorgeous! You ready?” He smiled. I nodded. 

“Yeah! Those for me?” I blushed. 

“Told ya, Gentleman always brings flowers on the first date.” He smirked proud of himself. They were a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses. 

“Your momma raised a good man!” I smiled. “They’re beautiful, I’ll go put these in some water and we can go!” After I found a vase and set them on the counter next to last nights flowers we left for dinner. He took me to a local burger joint. It reminded me of one of the restaurants in Grease. He’d genuinely put thought into this! We ate dinner and even shared a milkshake. 

“You’re such a dork!” I laughed when he leaned across the table to take a sip. 

“You like it or  you wouldn’t keep me around,” He joked. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” He laughed and his eyes flickered to my lips. 

“Hold still sugar,  you got a little something,” He took his thumb and swiped the ice cream off my bottom lip and then brought it to his lips sucking it off. I swallowed hard and bit my lip “Got it,” He winked. 

“Mmhmm, you did,” I stuttered. 

After he paid for dinner he drove us to the bowling alley and we got set up on a lane for the night. We also got a little wrist band for the bar. “I”m gonna go get a beer sugar you want anything?” He asked. 

“I’ll take a wine cooler, whatever they got!” I smiled. I set up our screen putting our names on the board and started our first game. I felt him wrap his arm around my waist and he pulled me close pressing a kiss to my neck. 

“You ready?” he asked handing me my drink? I nodded biting my lip and trying to control my breathing. I didn’t want him to know how easy it was for him to make me lose my mind. He chuckled and kissed my cheek letting go of me and picked up his ball.

Sy was up first and I watched as he stepped up to the lane. He drew his arm back and let the ball come forward dropping it perfectly in the middle He hit all but two pins in the far left. Of course he was good at this. “Damn Sy, I didn’t realize you were a professional at every sport.” I joked. He chuckled. 

“A couple buddies and I used to play on a league in high school. It’s been a while.” He picked up his ball again when it came back through and stepped up to the line again and it spiraled down and curved perfectly knocking down the last pins.  “Guess I still got it!” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my drink. I grabbed my ball and stepped up to the line. Well, I’ve made myself look stupid before and he’s still here so, here’s to embarrassing myself! I threw the ball and it dropped hard immediately rolling toward the right gutter. I sighed heavy and dropped my head in shame. I could hear Logan trying not to laugh. 

“Shut up,” I said when I turned around waiting for my ball. 

“That was a good try,” He snickered. 

“I’ll get the next one!” I said confidently. I did not. This one rolled more to the left skated along the edge and knocked down two pins. I winced but laughed at myself when I turned around. 

“You hit em that time!” I laughed. 

“We can’t all be perfect like you Sy!” I joked. He shook his head his chest shaking with laughter. 

“I can help you if you want,” He smiled sweetly. I wasn’t going to give into him that easily. Not yet. 

“No! I can do it,” I said stubbornly.  He just laughed. We went on like that for a while. The next turn He bowled a strike. I knocked down 4. He picked up another spare. I got 6. He got another strike. I threw another gutterball. When it was my turn again I downed the rest of my drink and stood up grabbing the ball. I walked up to the line and stood their for a second. I stared at the pins and the turned back towards Sy and pouted. 

“Okay I give up, help,” He smiled standing up from the table and walked up behind me. 

“Come here baby, Stand a little more to the right of center.” He moved us over and grabbed my hip so I was completely pressed against him. He slowly ran his hand down my arm gently grabbing my wrist. Guiding it back to show me how to throw the ball. He was saying something but I honestly couldn’t hear the instructions he was giving over my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “Just like that and let it go okay.” he smiled. I nodded and he guidded me again helping me throw the ball. This time I knocked down all but one. “Thats my girl!” He said spinning me around and kissing me passionately. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders kissing him back. He pulled away quickly and smiled. “I knew you could do it.” We finished the first game and of course Sy had Won. He got me another drink and he switched to water so he could drive us home.  The second drink was starting to hit and I kept calling him over to help me and teasing him by pressing my ass against him everytime he was behind me. At the end of the last game he was behind me helping me throw again. I was definitely a little buzzed. 

I pressed my ass against him grinding against him to  whatever song was playing on the old jukebox. But he was done with my teasing. He growled in my ear squeezing my hip tight. And after I let go of the ball he turned me around crashing his lips to mine. I smirked when we pulled away. “What do you think you’re doing darlin, hmm?” he smirked.

“Just having fun Sy,” I ran my hand down his chest and his stomach. He grabbed my wrist stoppinig me before I could get any further. I pouted. “Buzzkill,” He shook his head. 

“You’re in for it when we get home darlin, don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” we left the bowling alley and got back in the truck. I was  so excited for him to get us home. 

“Such a naughtly little girl teasing me in public like that. You like misbehaving don’t you,” He growled when we were on the main road back home. His hand had been on my thigh the whole drive. His fingertips softly massaging the inside. 

“I think you like it when I do,” I teased. I reached over and ran my had across his lap and smirked when I felt the bulge in his jeans. I playfully squeezed him and he cursed under his breath. 

“What am I gonna do with you.” He groaned. He pulled into his drive way and threw it into park. He jumped out and ran to my side of the truck. I had just enough time to unbuckle my seatbelt before he pulled me out and threw me over his shoulder. 

“Sy!” I laughed. He smacked my ass. 

“You asked for this sugar!”  He carried me into the house and took me straight to his bedroom. He dropped me on the bed and flipped me over onto my stomach. I squealed playfully as he pulled down my jeans and panties tossing them to the side. “You wanna be a brat and misbehave. You’re gonna learn baby.” He brought his hand down with a loud smack on my ass. “Bad girls get punished.” I could feel myself dripping already. God it was like he was straight out of a romance novel. But he was real. This was happening. He gave a hard slap to the other cheek and I whimpered. He rubbed over it soothing it gently. “You like this don’t you, when I take control?” I moaned inresponse. 

“Words sugar,” He smacked my ass again and I yellped not ready for it. 

“Yes Sir!” I choked out. 

“That’s my good girl, now stay just like that, Ive been dying to bend you over all week.”  I heard him unzip his jeans and then felt him press the head of his cock against my folds. He didn’t give me time to adjust this time. He just slammed into me. 

“Fuck Sy!” I moaned as he started a relentless pace. He tangled his fingers in my hair as he fucked me from behind pulling me up against his chest. 

“I love when your like this, when you’re so needy for me. You’ve been aching for my cock all week. And You’d do anything to get it.” I blushed. Fuck he was right. I moaned as he thrusted harder. 

“Say it,” he growled in my ear. 

“Mm fuck I need your cock Logan,” I moaned. I heard him groan and felt his fingers pressing against my clit as he reached around to help me reach my climax. 

“I know baby, and you needed me to make you cum didn’t you, I’m gonna let you cum baby all you have to do is ask.” It felt so fucking good. He was so intense. His words his motions. The things he was doing to me was too much. 

“Please Sy,” I begged.

“Please what baby?” He smirked as his thrusts became sloppy. I groaned feeling it build up inside me. 

“Please let me cum!” I moaned. He Pushed me back down so my face was against the mattress and grabbed my hips thrusting into me. 

“Let go baby, I gotcha, I’m right here baby, cum for me. “ his name tumbled from my lips as my walls clenched around him and I reached my climax. He wasn’t far behind. A few more thrusts and he was cumming inside me. Growling in my ear telling me how good I was. 

“Fuck,” He breathed pulling out and laying on the bed next to me. He pulled me on top of him, combing his fingers through my hair. “Well, I’d say that went well,” He smirked. I shook my head trying to catch my breath. 

“You’re an idiot.” I laughed. 

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

That's it Please let me know what you think! There's more to come and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :)

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @kingliam2019 @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome

[thefallennightmare]

Hard to Love [21/21]

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 1621

Warnings: this story will have mentions of abuse, mental and physical so please read at your own risk. Some swearing, angst, and a good amount of fluff. Maybe some smut if I'm feeling frisky.

Summary: After moving to a new town all on her own, Reader would do anything for a stable job and income. Even if that means housekeeping for one of Boston's eligible bachelors. What she didn't expect was finding herself falling in love with him and finding him out about the past that she was running from.

A/N: I cannot believe the ending is here. I also cannot thank you enough for all the love that you guys have gave this series. I really do appreciate it and love seeing all the comments! Your words of encouragement are what kept me going for this story. I’m so so sad it’s done. 

Lets finish this story with a happy ending! 

Tags: @kelbabyblue @patzammit @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @jennmurawski13 @divadinag @cosmicbreathe @thevelvetseries @capstopavenger @chris-butt @denisemarieangelina @im-a-stranger-thing @jennamarieee623 @introvertedmouse @lharrietg @thejemersoninferno  @breezykpop @instantbasementtimetravel @rodgersteves @michaelscotfield-blog1 @40srogcrs @wonderingshawn @bellaireland1981 @katelyneannxo @lady-x-red @sare-bare93-blog @annmariek8​ @raabrakha​ @stxvercgersslut​

ONE YEAR LATER

“Where’s my cutie pie?!” I shouted, entering the home. 

Four feet trotted down the long hallway from the kitchen to the living room where I stood, hanging up my jacket and bag. Bending at the knees, I allowed all of the kisses and whines of happiness, scratching the furry ears. 

“How’s Dodger doing today?” I cooed. 

He followed me into the kitchen as I searched the fridge for something to ease my stomach. Munching on a piece of cheese, I checked my phone and saw a new message from Chris. 

I’ll be home in a few hours. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t think these interviews would take so long. 

Don’t be sorry! I’ll wait up for you xx. 

The last year, I had grown incredibly; putting everything that happened to me in the past, locking it away. The scars still remained on my body but I never let it affect me. Chris would always make sure he showed extra love to them, telling me that he loved the way I look. 

The first time Chris had to leave for work was a couple of months after everything and it was hard to get adjusted to sleeping in the bed alone but Dodger was the best replacement, keeping me safe every night. Chris tried to turn down movie roles but I quickly shot that down. I wouldn’t let him lose out on a possible great job because I missed him. 

I ended up seeing the live video he posted when I was missing and the amount of outpouring coming from his friends and fans also helped me heal. There were a good amount of people who at first weren’t happy that Chris was in a loving relationship but eventually, when he kept posting pictures of us on Instagram, they got used to it. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I saw a new message appear from Chris. 

Our weekend starts in less that two hours. I can’t wait to be alone with you. 

I smiled fondly at the message. 

The past couple weeks were filled with either him working almost every day or me continuing my schooling. We had his family and friends over a few times last week as well so we were practically begging the Gods above for some alone time. 

Which is why this weekend we had zero plans, just the two of us in our home. 

And Dodger. 

“OH COME ON!” Chris yelled at the T.V. 

A giggle erupted from my throat from my spot on the couch, my feet placed in his lap, as we watched the football game. 

Our weekend together was coming to an end, school for me and another press conference for Chris’ upcoming movie tomorrow, meant that reality was about twelve hours away. We spent the weekend in multiple different rooms of the house, our moans vibrating off the walls. 

I’ve had sex more in this weekend than I had in my entire adult life. 

Now, we were exhausted, so we decided to spend the rest of our Sunday in our lazy clothes on the couch; Chris wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats and I ended up stealing his shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

Even though his eyes were transfixed on the game, he still made an effort to show me attention by rubbing the soles of my feet. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at this man in front of me. He let his beard grow this weekend, too lazy to shave it, which I didn’t complain one bit. The red marks on my thighs from earlier were an indication of that. His hair was short because he decided that he needed to buzz it last night; he was sick of it getting in his face. 

I marveled at the way the muscle in his jaw tightened when I rubbed my feet into his lap, purposely pressing into his soft cock. 

“If you keep that up, I’ll miss the last half of the game,” he threatened in a low voice. 

“But I’m horny!” I whined, lifting my shirt up and over my head. “Please?” 

I pinched my hard nipple between my fingers, hoping that would be enough to get him on top of me. 

It was. 

I yelped when Chris pulled my ankle towards him, his body on top of mine in seconds. His gold chain was dangling in front of my face as I looked up to him, our chest rising with heavy breaths. 

“So naughty,” he muttered against the crook of my neck. 

“Enough small talk and fuck me already, Evans,” I purred into his ear, fingernails digging into his bare back.

I couldn’t help but gnaw nervously on my bottom lip, tasting a bit of blood, while I paced the floor of our bedroom. Chris was out running errands but with the text I sent him, I knew that he would be on his way home asap. 

Can you come home please? I have to talk to you. 

My hands shook with nerves, feeling my cardigan being weighed down with the pressure that was in the pocket. I couldn’t help but worry about what Chris’ reaction would be. We never talked about this and I didn’t know if this would be what broke our relationship. 

“Y/N?” 

Hearing his voice, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where he sat with Dodger on the couch. 

“Hey, everything alright?” He asked. 

I nodded and sat across from him. “Yeah, I think so.” 

He knew in the way my knee bounced and sucked in my bottom lip that whatever I had to talk to him about made me nervous as hell. Placing a hand on my knee, he gave me a warm smile. 

“Tell me,” he begged gently. 

Words were so foreign to me, not knowing exactly how to say it, so instead I handed him what was in my pocket. 

“I know we haven’t talked about it much but I couldn't not tell you. I mean you deserve to know. If you’re angry I understand. I’m confused too on how this happened,” I rambled. 

Chris didn’t hear a word I had spouted, his eyes trained hard on the stick in his hand with the two solid pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” His mouth twitched. 

I nodded and handed him my phone that held an email from the doctors office, confirming the pregnancy. Yesterday morning while Chris was out with his mom, I secretly had an appointment. 

“The doctor says I’m about six weeks,” I spoke softly. 

I was unsure of what his reaction would be, his gaze still stuck on the pregnancy test in his hand. 

Dodger knew something was different, sniffing the test in Chris’ hand. 

Finally after what felt like forever, Chris looked into my eyes and his mouth curved into a smile. 

“We’re having a baby?” 

The smile he had was a giant one, where you could almost count all of his teeth as he smiled down towards Dodger, showing him the sonogram on my phone as if Dodger could tell what he was looking at. 

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. 

“You’re happy?” I asked. 

His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “I’m fucking ecstatic.” 

Our lips met in a rushed kiss, his hand finding its place on my stomach. His forehead rested against mine and his eyes shone with so much love that my heart leaped into my throat, knowing that his reaction was the complete opposite of what I was prepared for. 

“Stay here,” He mumbled against my lips in another kiss. 

I waited patiently as he rummaged for something in the desk of his office and he returned, hand behind his back. 

“I was saving this for when we went away next month but I don’t think I can wait.” He spoke before handing me a small box. 

A small velvet box. 

I gasped, watching him get down on one knee, and pried open the box. Inside was a gorgeous oval cut diamond on a plain gold band. The sunlight from outside had caught the ring in a warm glow of light. 

“This isn’t the most romantic idea of a proposal but I don’t want to wait any longer to ask you this. I first met you in this room when you came to work for me and in that moment I knew I wanted you; I needed you in my life. Y/N, you know I love you so fucking much. You have changed my life in so many ways and now we’re having a baby. You’re having my baby and somehow I love you even more. Y/N, will you marry me?” The tears welled in his eyes and he blew out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck yes!” I cried, hormones causing my eyes to pour tears down my cheeks. 

After he slid the ring on my finger, he picked me up with ease as he walked us towards our bedroom so we could celebrate the rest of our lives. 

I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in two years since I first drove up to this house, nervous about what the job was that I had an interview for. I never imagined that I would face my past again, not letting it define who I was anymore. And I definitely never thought I would find someone who would love me with his whole entire heart and soul, knowing how hard to love I was. But he did; Chris vowed to me that night in hushed moans that he loved me then and forever. 

Along with the baby I was growing in my stomach; our baby. 

AND FIN!

[hwangsbbg]

Just a kiss - Yangyang

Synopsis : Yangyang and reader are best friends and they end up going further than just kissing in an attempt to check their kissing skills

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

"I'm not watching that movie another time" Yangyang complained as the two of you made your way to your house. It was a tradition for him to sleep over every Friday night and for you guys to do a movie marathon.

"But its a classic" You whined as you saw you were a couple steps away from reaching the front door.

"A classic we've watched literally a hundred times. Can't we watch one of my movies instead" He replied watching you open your front door.

"We can watch one of your movies, and one of mine. And if we can't get along on the last movie we can just play video games" You walked in your house, immediately making your way to your room.

"Are your parents not home?" He asked considering we'd always be greeted by them as soon as we entered the house.

"My dad travelled for work yesterday and my mom is visiting her parents. I told you this like ten minutes ago" You rolled your eyes.

"I forgot to listen" He grinned at you, following you into your room where both of you set your bags on the side of your room.

"Did you finish your homework for the weekend or are you gonna end up copying on me" He practically jumped next to you on the bed as he watched you remove your shoes, doing the same.

"I finished it during my free period this time" you replied, proudly, as you removed your cardigan, throwing it to the other side of the room.

"Wow! For once! You deserve an applause" He dramatically clapped for you. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'm gonna take a shower, you can go in after if you'd like" You walked towards the door that connected your room to your bathroom.

"Or I could always join you" He laughed making you laugh as well. You shook your head at him playfully before finally going in.

You finished rather quickly and when you were out you realized Yangyang was missing. You called his name while putting on a new pair of underwear and an oversized shirt he had actually given you.

"I'm coming! I'm grabbing some snacks" He replied from the kitchen as you set up the movie you wanted to watch on Netflix.

Yangyang walked in with a tray full of snack and grinned as soon as he saw the shirt you were wearing.

"You're wearing the shirt you stole from me" "You gave it to me" "Yeah after you wouldn't stop stealing it" He laughed, setting the tray on the table next to your bed and jumping in the bed next to you.

"Aren't you gonna take a shower" you questioned.

"Oh yeah" He remembered. You laughed as he stood up making his way to the bathroom. A few seconds later he walked out, shirtless.

"Can I use your shampoo" You definitely heard him, but your eyes were more focused on his bare upper body that was displayed before you and you couldn't think of anything else.

"Wh-What" "can I use the shampoo" he repeated his question, smirking at you.

"Y-Yeah of course" You finally managed to look up at him. He laughed at your reaction before walking back into the bathroom.

You laid down on the bed, quite embarrassed, making yourself comfortable as you scrolled through Instagram, waiting for him to come out and start the movie.

You were so focused on your phone however, you completely forgot about Yangyang who walked out of the bathroom and walked in on you laying down on your phone with half of your ass exposed by your shirt that had been lifted up.

He coughed a little trying to get your attention, and it worked, however you had no idea about your situation and you simply looked at him smiling.

The thoughts that crossed his head at that moment were far from innocent, certainly not the kind of thoughts you would have about your best friend.

When you turned your head, you noticed he was only wearing a new pair of pants but his abs were once again on full display and it was turning you on in ways you couldn't imagine.

You hadn't had sex ever since you broke up with your boyfriend last year and to say you were beyond sexually frustrated is an understatement. To add on to that you have an incredibly good looking man standing shitless in front of you. What would you expect.

Your eyes trailed up from his abs to his eyes to see he was staring at your ass and you quickly sat up, laughing nervously as he copied your actions, laughing as well.

"where's your shirt" You asked him as he took a seat next to you on the bed.

"I tried to put the AC on when you were showering and it isn't working, it's way too hot inside for the shirt I brought" He explained making you nod in understanding.

"I bet Talia would love to see you like this" You Spoke after a while, remembering the quirky girl who dared come up to you and tell you to back off of Yangyang.

"What do you mean" He looked genuinely confused which made the situation quite comic for you.

"You know Talia right?" "Which one" "The skinny brunette one with the green eyes" You explained and he instantly understood who he was.

"High heels Talia? The one who tried failing maths so I could tutor her" "Yeah! That one! She told me to back off her man because she thought we were dating"

"What did you say" He was almost dead laughing. "I told her I've done some things with her 'man' she couldn't even think of" You laughed seeing him become all read and remembering how she stormed off after hearing that.

"Why would you say it like that" He laughed even harder. "Because I was tired of her always thinking I'm 'stealing you away from her' and I mean we have done some pretty crazy things.. just not what she's probably thinking" you explained.

Yangyang shook his head at you playfully making you give him a suspicious look. You wouldn't dare believe it but you had to ask him.

"Why.. are you like into her" you didn't mean to make it sound so mean but it just came out that way.

"Why are you jealous" he teased you, laughing at your reaction. You frowned in response.

"Come on! You're the only girl in my life! You know that" He tackled you into a bear hug, holding you tightly before letting go. During those few seconds you managed to catch a strong whiff of your shampoo and body wash and you realized how he was shirtless and had to force your mind away from inappropriate thoughts.

"Ok but I also have a confession" He spoke up after a couple of seconds of silence. "What did you do" knowing Yangyang, he was capable of the craziest of things and him saying that scared you.

"I kinda did the same thing you did with him" Yangyang admitted, shocking you.

"What!? When? How? Where? Why?" you had so many questions. He gave a nervous laugh before explaining.

"So I was walking to my locker and he came over to me and asked if I had seen you. I told him yeah but I wasn't going to tell him where you were. Then he told me he just wants to explain himself"

You shook your head. He had cheated on you. What was there to explain. You stayed quiet however and let Yangyang continue his story.

"I told him there was nothing to explain and he said I had no business in this and asked me why I was even putting myself in you guys' business. So I told him I have my reasons. And he asked me if we were dating or fucking and that it had to be one of those" he paused.

"What did you say" you asked. You were aching to know the rest.

"I told him why not both and he got super pissed and left" Yangyang admitted making you burst out in laughter.

"You told him we were sleeping together and dating" You couldn't believe what you had just heard.

"Yeah. I mean I thought he would have realized I was lying considering you could sense my sexual frustration from miles away"

"Not at all Yangyang, if anything you give off playboy vibes" you replied making him blush a slight red color.

"No but seriously I mean with that smile and those abs, you have like half of the girls at school chasing after you" You didn't even realize your hand was on his thigh until you met his eyes and saw him looking at it.

"Sorry" You bashfully apologized. "It's okay" He breathed out.

"Anyways, why would you give off sexually frustrated vibes. Don't you like.. touch yourself"

Yes, it was quite an awkward conversation but you guys didn't mind talking about things like this and that was a great thing in your friendship.

"I mean yeah, but it's not the same thing as having sex" he replied as if it were something you should have known.

"But didn't you hook up with Violet at the party last week" "She tried to hook up with me but I didn't want to"

You were quite confused considering Violet was considered one of the hottest girls at school and he was sexually frustrated.

"So I haven't had sex in like five months" "I haven't had sex in like a year! I don't know why you're complaining" you rolled your eyes at him.

"That's cause you didn't want to. Every guy at school tried hooking up with you as well. Your ex boyfriend spread the rumor that you were a great kisser but even better in bed"

"Yeah I heard the rumor. It's not false so I didn't bother saying anything" you shrugged.

"So you're saying you're a great kisser" "Well I'm not denying it" "I bet your not as great of a kisser as I am" Yangyang teased you making you laugh.

"I could show you" You spoke jokingly but noticed the serious look on his face.

"I was joking" You made it clear before you saw him smirk and speak up.

"I bet you I'm a better kisser than you" he challenged you. Only he knew his true intentions and how competitive you could be.

"Bet on what Yangyang. Twenty bucks" You sparked up at he thought of the new challenge.

"Ok but if I win you have to grant my three wishes" he replied. You nodded, sure you weren't going to lose.

"But how do we test this, do I have to kiss one of the girls you kissed because they all suck to be honest" you spoke making him chuckle before replying.

"I mean it's just kissing we could just do it together and see for ourselves". You raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged.

You obviously wanted to kiss him, all betting aside, so it didn't take much for you to agree. As soon as you replied with a 'yes', he moved his hand to rest on the bed, at your side and leaned in to kiss you.

It was a really soft kiss and it made your head dizzy. You hadn't been kissed like this in so long. Your lips moved together softly before he pulled away.

"I don't think we can determine who's the better kisser from just that" you used that as an excuse to continue doing what you were doing previously.

Yangyang smirked, kissing you once again, this time more passionately. You changed position, both kneeling on the bed without breaking the kiss.You could feel his hands, one of the back of your neck and the other around your waist.

He licked the bottom of your lip, asking for entrance. You teased him, denying it to him, wondering what he would do next.

He completely surprised you when he let his hand trail from your waist to one of your ass cheeks and squeezed it making you yelp and allowing him to enter his tongue.

He grinned into the kiss as your two tongues danced together, Yangyang taking the lead and dominating over you. You didn't mind his dominance though, you found it hot. Hot to the point where you could feel your underwear slowly getting soaked.

You let your hands rest on his abs as the kiss continued on for a while longer before you pulled away.

"Wow, the rumors are soo true" He let out, quite out of breath making you giggle.

"I didn't even show you half of what I know" You smirked, proudly, as you saw him bite his lip. He definitely wanted you as much as you wanted him.

"Can you show me more in that case" He asked. You smirked.

"Only if you admit I won the bet" "Who the fuck cares about the bet at this point" He replied. You couldn't agree more. Things were definitely not going to be the same after tonight.

You pushed him back so he was sitting on the bed before climbing up onto him, straddling him. Without wasting any time, you reattached your lips to his, instantly inserting your tongue in his mouth and letting it be guided by his tongue.

After a few seconds you pulled away, stared at him and reattached your lips to him, only this time to his neck. He let out a clearly involuntary moan as you sucked all over his neck and softly grinded on him.

You could clearly feel his member growing in his pants, right under you ass. You felt bad for the poor thing that wanted to break free from the clothes he was locked in. He grabbed your ass with both hands and began rubbing on it making you curse in pleasure.

You looked up to see Yangyang biting in his lip hard as you continued sucking on his neck. You moved your ass a little to grind into him again, making the both of you moan out of pleasure.

You made your way back to his mouth, reattaching your lips as you felt his hands trail under your shirt. You felt him smirk into the kiss as he discovered you weren't wearing a bra.

"Were you expecting this" He pulled away, biting his lip. "No, I just don't see the point in wearing a bra in my own house. Don't feel too special" You giggled, reconnecting your lips.

He let his hands play with your breasts under your shirts, squeezing on them before taking both nipples and squeezing those too.

You let out a rather loud moan, not really caring considering nobody else was home at this time.

He pulled away, tugging at your shirt and within a few seconds it was on the other side of the room. You watched him lick his lips before flipping you over so that you were laying in the bed with him on top of you.

"Fuck.. you're fucking hot" he praised you, attaching his lips to your neck this time as he grinded his erected member right on your core that was only covered by your panties.

"Fuckkk" you both moaned as he continued kissing all over your neck and collarbone before he began moving down, grabbing one of your nipples with his hand and taking the other in his mouth.

He sucked and licked around you, enjoying the sounds of your moans before moving to the next one. He reveled in the fact that he was the one making you feel this way as he continued kissing your lower stomach all the way to your panties.

"You might be the better kisser but you've never seen what I can do with my mouth" He smirked as he pulled away.

You looked at him in shock. Was he seriously talking about what you were thinking.

"Please show me" You weren't going to bother lying, you were desperate to see what he could do with his mouth beside speak a ton of language and say the weirdest shit.

"You don't even have to ask" he kissed between your thighs making you shiver in excitement as he neared closer and closer to you.

He reached towards the waistbands of your panties, using only a few fingers to pull them off and toss them next to him.

"Holy fuck" He groaned, wasting no in attaching his mouth to your core. He first kissed it, sending an intense feeling all through your body before he licked between your folds.

"Oh fuckkk Yangyang" you moaned as he continued licking up and down before he thrust his tongue in your hole making your knees buckle in pleasure.

He reached up and began rubbing on your clit as he continued thrusting in and out with his tongue. Your loud moans only further encouraging him.

You felt heat pool up in your stomach as he used his other hand to play with one of your nipples.

"Ah.. fuck.. I think I'm gonna come" you let out in short breaths and he sped up his actions. He removed his hand that was rubbing on your clit but it didn't matter as he went deeper with his tongue making his nose rub against your clit.

You reached your first orgasm and it was nothing less than pure bliss and your entire body shook.

You watched him smirk in satisfaction, admiring your naked body and replaying the orgasm he caused in his head.

"Can you take anymore babe" You don't know where the nickname came from nor did you care. It sounded so fucking hot and you felt so desperate for him. And you knew how he felt too.

He stood up, giving you he perfect few of his member that was clearly very hard inside his sweatpants.

You licked your lips, making your way over to him and helping him remove his sweatpants along with his boxers, finally freeing his hard on from the prison it was stuck in.

You stared at his impressive size before slowly grabbing hold of it. He let out a small groan at the feeling as you began to pump on it.

"I would return the favor but I really want you inside of me right now" You loved hearing his moans but you couldn't wait any longer.

"Fuck- if you keep saying things like that I won't be able to control myself" "I don't want you to" you replied making him chuckle in response.

"Shit- I don't have a condom" he groaned in frustration before you spoke up, announcing you had one.

"For surprises like this" you spoke once again after seeing the eyebrow raise he gave you. He opened your bedside drawer and was surprised to see all the different types of condoms you had stored in there.

"You just keep them in here knowing your parents could see them" he looked at you in confusion.

"My dad never comes into my room and my mom gave me these" You watched as he scanned over the different sizes before picking up a large one. Seeing his size, it didn't surprise you.

He ripped it open using his teeth and easily rolled it on before positioning himself at your entrance. You moaned, feeling only the tip enter you as your whole body was once again overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Fuck babygirl" he unconsciously let the pet name slip as he grabbed on to your waist, pushing further inside of you until he was fully in.

"Fuck Yangyang" you moaned loudly as he began moving slowly inside of you before he started picking up his pace.

"F-faster.. please" you managed to let out as he went even faster than before and your moans became more high pitched and frequent. You were already nearing your orgasm.

Your hands went to his back, before the rested in his shoulders and he hit your gspot with each and every thrust.

"Ugh.. I'm close babygirl" you could feel him twitching inside of you as your walls clenched around him and, like he had announced, he came.

He continued thrusting though until the pool of heat in your stomach spread to your entire body as you also released for the second time.

He rolled over, laying on the other side of the bed as he tried regaining his breath while you did the same.

"I can't believe that just happened" You would have never guessed your weekly sleepover would turn into probably the best sex you'd ever experienced.

"I'm so happy it did" he replied, finally free of the sexual frustration that was bothering him.

"I mean it was only a matter a time considering the way you stared at my abs earlier" He teased you making you laugh.

"It wasn't as bad as how you were staring at my ass" you replied, returning the favor.

"You got me on that one. Remember the favor you owe me" he reminded you of the amazing job he had done to you with his mouth.

"How can I forget. Remember the three wishes you have to grant me" you also reminded him of the bet he lost.

"I just made all your wishes come true but if you need me to show you again I will" He replied cheekily, making you giggle.

[houseofglass]

Hmmm, this spn prequel seems to have ruffled a lot of different feathers. My dash has provided me with Jared hate, Jensen hate, confused tinhats, and even a splash of Cockles/Destiel opinions.

Here’s my take. Spoiler alert: unpopular opinions ahead. I’m not linking anything because I’m in the middle of an unprecedented heatwave and I don’t feel like finding all the sources. Do your own research. Or not. Whatever. I just want to get this all out as coherently as possible. Here we go:

From the beginning, Jensen has been a professional. He didn’t let the drama on Dark Angel get to him and he’s said that he actively avoided having that same drama on the set of spn. He’s known as One-Take-Ackles because he brings his A-game every time.

Jared liked to mess around on set. Take after take after take after take. There was reddit post about how the crew would be working 13 (?) hours to get everything set up and still had six hours of teardown to do and then bam! actors messing about and making the day longer. Like, just say your lines dude. Anyway. Jared liked wresting, getting others to break, and pranking. I think he even pranked Misha by ruining his car more than once. Not cool, IMO.

J2 had a massive fight on set in season two. I recall it being about Jared egging Jensen on to fight but Jensen just stared him down until Jared left the set. They made up and agreed to never do that again as it promotes a bad workplace. Keep your shit contained, kind of thing.

But Jared didn’t, not really. One incident in particular is the wrestling with Osric Chau. Osric is a trained fighter and Jared was apparently going to slam him into the concrete. I repeat, into concrete. Osric dislocated Jared’s shoulder as a result. Jared still didn’t back off and Osric dislocated it again, this time Jared needed surgery and rehab. The wrestling finally stopped.

In all of this, J2 became good friends. I, personally, believe they started messing around sexually right after they auditioned for the parts and then got serious early on. They lived together, and Jared had his first breakdown immediately before announcing his engagement to Gen.

J2 are a good match. Jensen grounds Jared and Jared helps Jensen to be more outgoing while ‘on’ outside the set. Jensen seemed reserved and shy before Jared and was more confident and comfortable with Jared by his side. Jared can spin almost out of control and Jensen helps keep his feet on the ground. They also have an energy that’s been described as lightning in a bottle.

Fast forward a whole bunch of years. They’re still on the same show but have other interests. Each of them ensures that the other has the spotlight in turn. When one has a project, the other is quiet on social media so the focus won’t be taken away. They tell each other everything, as evidenced early on when PR and managers tried to play one off the other. They simply didn’t allow that to happen. Nope. Instead, they stepped back so one could shine. Jared opens a bar and Jensen is supportive. Jensen opens a brewery and Jared is supportive.

During all of this, they still perform at cons for fans. For a while, near the end of spn, I noticed Jensen seemed to be drunk/drinking often. He had a flask while getting a tattoo, he was spotted with fans while drunk and kissed one, the Bad Idea Instagram post. This isn’t unusual. He’s an adult. He can drink. I just thought it odd that I was noticing it more and asked myself, was he always a frequent drinker and he just stopped hiding it or is it a result of the rise of cell phones and constant casual photos?

But then Jared was arrested. He was drunk. Not tipsy or having a good time. Drunk. He assaulted an employee. A lot of people said he was just a big puppy and he didn’t mean anything by it, but that didn’t sit well with me. By this point I’d heard too many stories about Jared being a bit of an asshole. Also, I don’t think Jared has depression. I think he has bipolar disorder. He’s had too many incidences of mania for me to believe it’s just depression. He feels emotions deeply, that’s obvious to me, but he also has emotional swings that remind me of my own bipolar disorder. Am I self-inserting? Maybe. But I know the signs and I see them in Jared. BTW, depression meds can bring on mania if you have bd. You need a different cocktail for bd, and you shouldn’t drink while on them.

By the time J2 announced the end of spn, Walker was already in the works. I knew something was up when I saw Jensen advertising himself at every opportunity. The whole King Bacchus thing and him showing up at after parties/events that are designed for networking kinda cemented this for me. I figured he was parading around looking for work and wondered why Jared wasn’t doing the same. Then Walker was announced.

Now, I admit, my timeline there might be a bit off. Maybe Walker was announced before Jensen was King, but my brain is melting and I can’t remember. Either way, I did note that Jared had plans for post-spn when Jensen didn’t.

The wives started getting involved. Gen is on Walker and Danneel is part of Chaos Productions. Me, being the tinhat that I am, thought this was to ensure the wives have an income and are tied to their husbands. From a non-tinhat pov, I can see their involvement as a natural, nepotism thing that happens.

Jared is doing well on Walker, or so I’ve heard. I haven’t watched the show. Jensen got a role on The Boys and is filming now. Cool. Cool cool cool. Both have acting gigs.

Then Jensen announced, on social media, right before the Walker finale, that there’ll be a spn prequel that’ll be narrated by Dean.

Right. Before. Walker. Let that sink in. All these years, J2 have always stepped aside for one another to ensure they have the spotlight in turn. But now Jensen is hogging it? Jensen is taking the focus off Walker and putting it on himself? Not cool man, not cool.

Also, there was no mention of Sam in the prequel. No mention of the other half of spn. Jared has said, publicly, that he’d drop anything to work on spn stuff, so he’s available. So why wasn’t he ‘in the know’ about this? How could Jensen have slipped this past him?

Jared was seen in Colorado during Jensen’s birthday, just before Jensen went to Toronto. So they’ve seen each other. Even if, in the minuscule possibility, that Jared didn’t see Jensen that weekend, they’ve admitted to talking to each other a lot. So why didn’t Jensen, at any point, tell Jared about this prequel?

Then Robbie Thompson tweeted. Jared was hurt even more. Apparently, I heard through this blue hellsite, that Jared wanted RT to write for Walker, but RT refused. Why? Who knows.

Let’s go back in time, shall we?

Jared messed around on set. Jensen didn’t. I can believe that some crew members/writers/producers/directors would have hated working with Jared. Yes, I said that. Not everyone likes a goofball or prankster. Some people think those people are bullies in disguise.

Maybe, just maybe, the lines were drawn when spn ended. Some people supported Jared, others Jensen.

Before anyone yells at me too loudly, answer me this: how did Jensen - and everyone involved in the prequel including Kripke - keep this from Jared? Didn’t anyone at any point ask how Jared felt about it? Or if Jared was available? Or if Jared would have input? “He’s too busy on Walker” doesn’t cut it as an answer to me. Spn was about two brothers, always two brothers, and now a prequel will only feature one brother?

So I came to the conclusion that the industry deliberately took sides in this whole thing. Nobody told Jared because they didn’t want to work with him again. He has his own show, he’s busy, - these are easy ways of handwaving him out of the equation.

Bottom line, finally, is that Jensen stepped in some shit when he didn’t tell his co-star, his partner, his friend, about a prequel to the show they worked on for fifteen years.

Will I ever know all the details of why Jensen would do this? Nope. I’m not in the industry.

I still believe J2 were/are in a relationship and their wives are beards. I believe they have a wonderful friendship and were as close as two people can be. I don’t want to think that relationship is over. I don’t want to believe they’ve gone separate ways. But man oh man, Jensen fucked up big time here.

I can’t wait for a tell-all book thirty years from now.

[purpletaecup]

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling.  When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

← masterlist →

taglist: @victoriedulce @yoongistruth @rebeccawoodrow @moon-asia @koochiekoo @sonderkook @fangirling-gallifreyan @teresaisla @veronawrites @haeilove @rjsmochii @mama-m0chi @agustd-2020 @imluckybitches @dreamer95 @coldfreakeggsexpert @loveyoongles @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @mr-robot-x @alinerl @lunaarya @somewhereinthestarss @moonlitmyg @liriaus @coolpeanutskeletonpersona @scentedsope @seoul9711 @sbtzhoe @ggukkieland @mariand @deolly @fandomstogetherweunite @pairdeune @baekstans @mickmoon @iamnamjoonsbxtch @cloudbuffalo @kimmalik @laabellaavitaa21 @liveoffyou @vantedollz @1this1is1me1 @yulisaangelica @madnesstaking0ver @venxtaetae @pimpnameyannie @bobrouxsky @cheesecakes-randomshitz @ceoofjjksimping @minclangyyy @ysljoon @eilenebeniquez @laurynne5 @jalexad @yoongicap @hellotherehoneybee @thequeen-kat @haveumetbadeth @goldenkookietae @miss-jupiter @arcadechick​ @neverthefirstchoice​ @zxlummxxd​

[beautifulletdownfics]

The Nearness of You - A Harry Styles One Shot

A friends to lovers one shot feat. birthdays, pining and stolen purses.

Hello, please enjoy this fever dream fic that came to me a week ago and is now somehow 13.5k and gracing your eyeballs. I’ve never written a one-shot of this nature before and it was quite a refreshing distraction from my usual, long-form fics. Thank you to Anne @oh-honey-styles​ for the encouragement (bullying) and for posting the pic that inspired it all. To everyone else, read on x katey *Because this is quite lengthy, I’d recommend opening in a browser because the Tumblr app can be glitchy*

My masterlist Chat to me here

“When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams came true” The Nearness of You, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

++

You love the cold.

London in February isn't everybody's cup of tea, but you feel positively giddy walking down the icy Soho street in your new & Other Stories snow boots. The hard, black leather is already making your toes ache, and they're rubbing against the heel of your left foot, but they'll stretch to size, and you can tell these are going to be Your Signature Boots. The wind whips against your cheeks, red flushing them as you cross the laneway and push open the door to the chic little restaurant you've followed on Instagram for years but never had an excuse to try. Figures Harry chose it for tonight. Sometimes you wondered if the coincidences were a little too … Coincidental.

"Hi," you smile brightly to the maître d', "I'm uh … I'm here for the birthday? For Harry?"

Do I need to say his surname? You think to yourself.

"Can I have your name, please?" The suited man pulls a piece of paper out of the reservations book and waits for you to identify yourself. Your chest is rattling from the cold and the flurry of nerves you're all too familiar with ignoring.

"Y/N," you say your full name, taking in the dark floor of the restaurant, the flickering candles on the tables and lining the bar that takes up the entire left side of the room. The whole place is beautiful, just like you've double-tapped online; all deep reds and burgundies, vintage posters, and mismatched, dark wooden furniture. A jazz record plays just loudly enough to fuse the conversations at all the tables into one comfortable sound. It would make for a sexy place for a date, you decide, stolen touches under the table would feel thrilling and seductive.

The maître d' nods, you're on the list, "Back in the private dining room," he says, "Follow me this way."

You push your evening bag further up your shoulder and walk half the length of the bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. You catch the bartender watching you as you go, he's cute, and you give him an awkward little wave before calling out ahead of you.

"Sorry, excuse me," you get the attention of the man leading you through, "Can you point me to where I need to go? I'm going to get a drink to take in first if that's okay?"

"Just there," he points to the doorway at the back, next to the kitchen pass, "The curtain on the right."

Thanking him, you watch as he walks back to his station by the front door. You turn to the bar and rest your hands on the cool wood. They've stuck the pages together of old Little Golden Books for the drink menus, but you'll be ordering what you always get on birthdays, so don't take in the beverage options as you flip through The Tawny Scrawny Lion. You remember it from when you were a kid.

The bartender moves to stand in front of you, a gleam in his eyes and flirtatious smirk on his face, "Pretty good read, that one. You have to order a drink though, this isn't a library."

You laugh, he's laying it on a bit thick but probably just after the tip, "I was more a The Poky Little Puppy sort of girl."

He gives you a grin of approval, flipping a napkin up onto the bar in front of you, "What can I make for you?"

"I'll have two Old Fashioneds, please," you lean forward onto your elbows to give your feet a rest as he pulls up a second napkin and then two crystal, lowball glasses. "They're pretty," you comment without thinking.

"It's all about the glass," he confirms quickly, dropping brown sugar cubes into each one and then shaking bitters on top. Your eyes focus on the way the squares dissolve and fall in on themselves as he speaks again, "I'm Jack."

"Y/N," you give your name for the second time, throwing a brief smile his way, "I've never actually watched someone make these before."

Jack pauses and gives you a teasing look, "Do you want me to stop so you can get something to write this all down?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him as he goes back to making the drinks. You're stalling. You know when you go through the curtain in the back there'll be a dozen people who're all dressed nicer than you, with more impressive jobs than you, who have funnier, more outrageous stories about the birthday boy than you. You'll need to stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few moments too long before Harry notices you, and then your greeting will be watched by all his cool, London friends.

You know better than to let any of that dull your shine—you really do—but you've had a rough few months, and if you're honest, you'd like your first time seeing Harry since the summer to be a little more low-key than this. So that's why you're wearing the new boots that hurt and might not suit the dress code because they're new and you feel good wearing them with this outfit. It feels a little special to be out celebrating Harry's (belated) birthday in a semi-new ensemble. You managed to fluke getting your hair and makeup just right, and yes, your legs do look pretty fantastic in these tights with the short, roll neck, knit dress, thank you very much.

"Here you go," Jack brings your attention back to him, you can smell the citrus twist in front of you, and the crystal glass deflects the light from the candles, "Can I put this on a tab for you? You're with the birthday?"

"I'll pay," you tell him, already digging for your card and holding it out to him.

"Oi!" You hear a very familiar voice call out from the far end of the bar, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you shiver, "What're you payin' for? What's she—don't take her money!"

You keep your arm out steadily to Jack and raise your eyebrows at him, "Take it," you urge him quickly, feeling him pluck it from your fingers just as you turn towards the voice you know so well.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne hits your nose just as Harry hurries up and deposits himself heavily against the bar, right up in your personal space. His broad frame blocks out the room to you, and he's lit softly in the dim light and looking radiant from within, as per usual. He's got his crazy eyes out—accusing you—and his eyebrows are pinched together slightly, but he looks good. Happy. Rested. Pleased to see you.

Harry's always pleased to see everyone, you tell yourself, Hold it together.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug. Your cheek presses just below his pecs, and you feel the way he's grown more defined since you last saw him. The material of his t-shirt is soft and smells clean. It's a tight squeeze he gives you, one that you resist reading into. Was it healthy for there to be so much comfort in a simple hug? Was your whole body allowed to tingle and fizz from the embrace of a friend? Was it pathetic to have been carrying around in your ribcage the same crush from when you were thirteen?

Affirmative. Without a doubt. Yes.

You haven't seen Harry since mid-September, the last time he was in London. Well, the last time he was in London and had time to see you. You're sure there were probably business trips, Christmas definitely. And going off Instagram, you think he might've flown into Manchester and spent a long weekend with Anne back in October, but if it was any of your business, it would've been your business. You needed to be grateful simply for what you got; intermittent texts about books he'd read or maybe a happy drunk voicemail if he thought of you at the right time. He sent an email at Christmas with a charitable contribution in your name instead of a gift.

"It's so good to see you," Harry says as he pulls away, all crinkled eyes and broad smiles. You don't know your grin has launched his heart into space and that despite having just gone to the bathroom, Harry feels due for a nervous wee. He thinks you look fucking gorgeous tonight. Knowing you've done your hair, and eyeliner, and picked that dress to come out and celebrate his birthday … It sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin—beauty blooms in front of his eyes in you.

Tell her, you idiot. Twenty-seven could be the year.

"Hi," you chirp at him happily and pick up one of the glasses in front of you, "I got you a drink."

Harry watches you fondly and then dramatically looks off to the side, lets out a little huff, "Typical Y/N, buying her own drink … You really think I wouldn't have one here for you?"

Nevertheless, he says a quiet thank you, takes the glass from you and deliberately sniffs it as if he's not sure what's inside or if he'll like it. You smack his arm lightly at the show and pick up your own glass, chinking it to the side of his and watching him over the rim as you both take your first sips. The familiar taste and view fill your tummy with gurgling happiness that sits high in your chest. He's dressed almost exactly how you expected him to be—smart, high-waisted dress pants and a printed t-shirt. You're glad you didn't go too formal, the restaurant is nice, but it's not Hatted or anything, not like the place he took you in LA that time, where you felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realising beforehand, was properly fancy.

"Fuckin' delicious," he rumbles slowly, bringing you back to the cocktail, "A classic."

"Happy birthday," you tell Harry sweetly, thankful for what's likely to be your only quiet moment with him all night, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the LA party."

"Ah," Harry waves you off, "Your job's much too important here."

He means it. Harry's beyond proud of you. He's always telling people you work for the NHS, saving lives and keeping the country going. The party in LA was thrown together by some people at the last minute, and even though most of the friends he left in the backroom when he went to find the bathrooms a few moments ago were able to fly across for it, Harry's not the least bit put out by you not being able to. Would've been a big trip for you to do on your own and he knew there's no way you'd miss his London celebration. And you sent over a gift, which shouldn't have surprised him. His actual birthday was spent in LA, and that morning a parcel arrived from you—two new notebooks and a novel Harry read the back of and instantly knew he would love. It's what he read on the flight home to the UK.

Trust you to want him to have the gift on his birthday—go to all that trouble of packaging it and sending it over—when you were going to see him in London ten days later anyway. Harry could do worse than a friend like you.

"I just need a bit more notice than four da—

—Please," Harry's shaking his head at you, hating watching you apologise for something he really doesn't care about. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he tells you genuinely, fingers reaching out to brush your bangs away from your eyebrow briefly and—did the room just spin around you?—get a glimpse of the bronze sheen over your eyelids, "I haven't seen your new hair in person, looks lovely."

Lovely? he scolds himself, Lovely is a nice jam scone, lovely is a hug from mum …

"Oh," you coo, automatically sending your own fingers up to where Harry's had just been to reposition your newish bangs, "Thanks, still getting used to it, wanted to do it forever but wasn't brave enough to I guess."

"I like your natural hair colour, too," he continues slowly, eyes running over your whole head, "I mean, I loved how it used to be … But I like this a lot."

Shit, Harry's already failing to adhere to the strict series of pep talks he's given himself over the last couple of days. He's babbling, and he's probably just made you think he's not liked how you've had your hair for the previous twelve years. Is he buzzed from the cocktail or from the way your cheeks have gone a little pink since he touched you? His compliment made you squirm, and Harry wants to do it again and again until what he's feeling makes sense.

"Just, you know, feels like a throwback to the old days," he mumbles through another sip of the cocktail you both love, a glint appears in his eyes as he continues, "When you had Barbie overalls and would spend half a day plaiting your whole head in those tiny little rat tails."

Your mouth opens into a horrified O, and you let out a single laugh, "Rat tails? They were cool. And I was eleven when we met, I'd definitely already outgrown the Barbie overalls."

"Whatever you say," Harry smirks at you, signature dimples appearing on his cheeks, "I just remember those little beads from the ends of them ending up all over the bottom of the pool."

You smile at the memory. You remember duck diving with Gemma to collect all the beads so they could be put back into your hair the next day. Nearly drowning from laughing so hard at Harry and the other boys trying to stand on your backs in the water. Summers with Harry were always spent laughing. The local pool and skate park saw all your adventures. When Harry's dad moved in next door to your family after his parent's divorce, you and your brother hung off the fence, peering into the backyard to see if any toys or a trampoline might appear signally new kids next door. They didn't, and it wasn't until the summer when Harry and Gemma arrived for their holidays that you jumped the fence with ice lollies and offered yourself up as a new friend.

"Simpler times," you muse to yourself, looking up and catching the perplexed look Harry was giving you, "Spaced out a bit, sorry."

"I've missed my little weirdo," he grins at you affectionately, angling a little closer and levelling his head down to yours as he bit his lip and frowned, "Are you doing alright though?"

You let out a little sigh and avert your eyes to where Jack, the bartender, is busy making trays of drinks for different tables. Harry observes you carefully, a twinge of guilt forms for causing the sad look that's come over your face, but also for not having asked the question weeks ago. Gemma told him at Christmas, an off-handed comment about you being newly single. When he heard the evil gremlin in him was fucking relieved, just like he always was.

"I'm fine," you try a smile out and pull your lips up higher when you don't think Harry buys it, "Better. Had my crisis haircut and drank myself to tears with my work friends. Just a normal break up, really. M'getting used to them at this point."

A small, white lie.

Each breakup bruises you deeply. Talking about it afterwards fills you with a shame that makes you feel naked, like everyone else can see what's wrong with you but you. As though it's obvious why nobody's picked you yet. You don't ever want to talk about it afterwards, (especially not with Harry) don't want to draw attention to it. Prefer to let the disappointment and loneliness pool in your tummy and sit there heavily, weighing you down, waiting for the One Day someone spectacular might come along and be buoyant enough to float away with you.

You're looking for your forever. You want the cheesy romance, and the love, and marriage, and kids, and the whole stupid thing. You want to be wanted and loved and cherished. That's what you're ready for. You just can't find anyone who's ready for that with you. So, you date, have mediocre boyfriends who rarely make it to the first anniversary, then pick up the pieces and try again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

"Well," Harry swallows, reaches out for your arm to make sure you look at him, "You look beautiful tonight. And it's his loss, he's clearly a monumental idiot."

You give Harry a noncommittal hum in response. Just as you're about to say something you shouldn't—get into details you bet Harry really isn't that interested in knowing—you catch the movement of someone appearing from the doorway behind Harry and then approaching you both.

"Harry, mate," you don't know the guy who's recognised Harry's back and is calling out for his attention now, "Thought you might've fallen in."

Harry snaps around quickly to the voice, blocking your view. You take another sip of your drink and pull in a deep breath. Not fitting into any of Harry' groups socially has its downfalls. If his sister wasn't around, you tended to have to make friends at anything Harry invites you to. You're not part of his Holmes Chapel crew or his LA friends, and you definitely don't fit into the London group. Over the years there have been faces you've come to find familiar, but you're still the singular, hanger-on friend from Harry's second childhood home.

Peering around Harry's shoulder, you catch the end of a look between the two guys you think alludes to this new friend gauging whether Harry needs rescuing from you. You briefly wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You know that look well.

"Aiden, this is Y/N," Harry raises his arm and angles to pull you around in front of him.

You hold up your drink, awkwardly, "Hi."

Aiden gives you a hesitant smile, "Hello," then he raises his eyebrows at Harry, "Harry, you coming back in, mate?"

Harry bites his lip and chuckles, reading the look on his friend's face, "You're a prick, I don't need saving. Known Y/N since I was twelve, we were just catching up."

You feel yourself go bright red, and you're thankful for the forgiving lighting. This isn't the first time this exact scenario has happened to you. You've been on the receiving end of that uneasy look before—his friends checking if the girl who isn't there with anyone else is supposed to be there at all. Backstage at the O2, a member of Harry's security once hauled you to the tour manager's office to check your VIP credentials were legitimate. You'll take that story with you to the grave.

Aiden deflates slightly and waves a hand your way, "Shit, sorry, thought he'd been cornered by a fan again … I mean, a pretty fan to say the least but …" he coughs into his hand when Harry gives him a glare you don't see, "Great to meet you."

"No worries," you wave it off like it's nothing. The truth is your brain has short-circuited at Harry's palm resting on the small of your back, he's not moved it from when he first brought you forward. Friendly touches weren't strange between you, but this lingering, comforting hand is burning a hole in you tonight. You haven't been out and had anyone touch you since your breakup, and Harry is setting off all you nerve endings. You tilt your weight onto your other foot to pull back from him slightly, but Harry's hand travels with you. "We should go back, I might use the loo first though, is it that way?"

Harry watches you point in the direction of the bathroom, you're flustered and he really wishes he could tell Aiden to buzz off so he could just take another few minutes with you. Brief you on who was in the room you were about to go into. You wouldn't know any of them, and Harry always appreciated that you came to things on your own, particularly when you wouldn't know anyone aside from him once you got there. He should have invited his sister so you'd have a buddy. Or told you to bring a friend. Not a boyfriend, though.

He watches you take the final drag from your drink and put the glass down on top of the bar, "Thanks Jack, t' was dee-lish," you catch the attention of the bartender, throwing him a beaming grin. And Harry watches the way the guy's features light up at being called on by you. Envy rumbles in Harry's gut, he recognises the dumb smile and dopey nod of Barman Jack's head. Has felt it a hundred times himself when he's been on the receiving end of your quirky humour.

You walk away, and Harry feels Aiden watching him, "She's fit," he comments, trying to get a rise out of Harry, reading the room perfectly.

"Fuck you," Harry grunts at him.

++

Harry sits opposite you at the long table in the private dining room.

You nurse a glass of rosé and eat the food slowly, savouring it. You deliberated over the menu for a long time before settling on what to order, you've seen photos of most of the dishes online, but there were several new ones too. Harry goes off your recommendations but spends a lot of the dinner talking to the people sitting beside him. He knows if he tried talking to you right now, he'd just get lost in you, which is both rude for a birthday party and bound to be too conspicuous.

You insert yourself into a conversation with the girls sitting next to you and pretend you're good at making friends. They spend most of the meal talking about something that was on the telly the night before. You were on shift so missed it, but pretend to be interested or like you might've seen it—anything to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Harry watches you out the corner of his eye the whole time. You've shrugged off your jacket, and he recognises the gold necklace you've got around the collar of your dress, sitting over the black fabric on your chest. He's pretty sure it was a gift from Gemma a few years ago, you wear it all the time. Harry makes a note to get you something that compliments it for your birthday coming up. You're chatting to one of his mate's girlfriends and Lisa who's been on his publicity team for years. Those would've been the two he'd have introduced you to first as well. He can't stop watching the way your lips turn up every time something funny is said, or one of the girls makes eye contact with you. Watching you try with his other friends always makes Harry feel warm and giddy for some reason.

Fuck, he's missed you. And he berates himself for the fact he never seems to remember that until he sees you again. (It's strategic usually, his heart doesn't take your company well when he knows you're going home to someone else) You're so engaging and kind and unintentionally charming, and you always have time for him. Harry knows he's not an easy human to be friends with; he constantly ducks in and out and is never around for the big things, let alone being available to call on a random day to just hang out with. The friendship is always on his terms, and he knows it makes him a selfish prick. You definitely could've done with a call a couple of months back when you had your heart broken. Like always, he missed it, and by the time he was sending you a message about an episode of Midsomer Murders, he felt as though the moment to console you had passed, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to the fact he wasn't around for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps back around to the person next to him, thoughts still on you across the table. He agrees with whatever was said and does his best to catch up.

Harry's got to stop thinking about how you're single at the moment. He really does.

++

A few hours later, it's the girl sitting to your left, Lisa, who first mentions the idea of kicking on.

It's after dessert—after everyone sang happy birthday to Harry over a round of espresso martinis—and you're starting to think that if you leave now, you'll be home before midnight, which means the tube won't be too deserted to feel safe. You're also at a comfortable place to wake up without a hangover in the morning. Two cocktails and a glass of wine over dinner, because any more and you're scared you could say something stupid to the wrong (right) person.

Harry's face lights up, and he looks around the room, eager at the idea of going to a bar or two for more drinks. He's not been out in London for the longest time, and he's happily buzzed enough to not be too worried about running into people. Feels like this group of friends have gelled well together. How often does he get to have a night like this in London? Hardly ever.

"Yeah, let me sort out the tab and then we're good to go," Harry says, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up, his hands hunting his pockets for his wallet and phone, "I'll be right back."

When he goes, you decide now's as good a time as any to split. You pull your coat on and say goodbye to the friends you made over the meal. Lisa gives you her business cards as if speaking to you had been part of her job, you slip it straight into your coat pocket and can already picture it at the bottom of the garbage in your kitchen. You revisit the bathrooms, and when you come back out into the main restaurant area, Harry's still leaning against the front desk, chatting to the maître d' from earlier.

He feels your small hand land on his back and jolts upright at the contact, your gentle voice calling his name softly, "Harry, I'm going to head home."

He spins around, and you catch the fall of his face, "What? No … No. You're the one I want to hang out with the most," his bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow. "Y/N."

"Thanks a fuckin' lot, mate," you hear a male voice laugh at your back, they slip behind you and out into the chilly air, and Harry flips them the bird. You were pushed closer into his chest as they jostled past and he steadied you with his arms latched onto your forearms. Still watching outside, you see a cigarette lighter flare-up on the footpath and the end of an orange butt glow spectacularly in the night. When you glance back at Harry, he's not looking happy.

"Don't pout," you tell him lightly, you reach up and press the skin taut between his eyes smooth again, "Can't wrinkle that rockstar face of yours."

His face lights up, and his skin heats where you made contact, "You can't go yet."

"Harry," your features tangle into something like a grimace, "You'll have a better time without me. Everyone seems to be pretty tight—"

—Y/N," he gives you a final, pleading look, "Please come."

You make out like you're stomping your foot in defiance, "Fine."

"Score!" Harry cheers under his breath, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders and saying a final round of thank yous to the staff. When you're out on the street at Harry's side somebody mentions the name of the next place and points the direction of it, Harry places a hand on your shoulder as you start to walk and leans down to your ear, "I just have one condition for you coming."

You pull back and look at him, "I don't think you get conditions when you've begged me to be here."

"A birthday condition then," he edits, pressing his lips together and smiling at you with his eyes, "You have to promise to do what I say before I ask it."

You narrow your eyes at him, "I suppose you only turn twenty-seven once. You can have a single wish from me."

Harry laughs and slips his fingers under the strap of your evening bag, "Give me this."

You think briefly he means to carry it for you, which is a strange thing for Harry to request. But then he unzips it in front of you and starts rifling around inside it, slipping your phone under his arm so he can move around the lipstick and tissues and emergency Galaxy bar to eventually pull out your small purse.

"Harry! What are you—

—Ah, ah!" He holds it all away from you and reminds you of the promise. "This is mine for the night," he says, slipping your purse into his coat pocket. "Otherwise you'll end up buying too many rounds."

You try to sneak your hand into the pocket after your wallet, "Don't be stupid. It's your birthday, I'll buy every round if I need to."

"Exactly my point," he steps away from you down the street, and you skip to be back at his side. He's stolen your money and your chocolate bar.

"Harry, give it back."

"Nope," he pops the 'p' and hands you back the bag, the Galaxy bar hanging from between his teeth, still in the packet, "You promised. Now hurry up and walk, and I might give you a bite of this. 'm freezing my balls off, we are not in LA anymore."

So that's how you end up in the next bar, your handbag a little lighter, squished into Harry's side with a pleasantly sour cocktail he paid for between your fingers. The booth is so far into the back wall you're not even really sure which direction the front door is anymore. Somehow, you've managed to sit ten people around a booth probably designed for six, but nobody seems to be bothered.

Your whole right side is on fire, though.

You can feel Harry from the top of your shoulder all the way to your ankle. His hip sits neatly next to yours, Harry's left elbow rests just above your right thigh, and your knees press together every time he gets excited when he speaks and unintentionally opens his legs up. If Harry's bothered by it there's no way you'd know, he's hardly looked at you since you all sat down, much less uttered a word of discomfort about the seating arrangements. Makes no sense really, when he seemed so desperate for you to stay out with them.

(Next to you Harry's felt like he was high most of the time, he's flashing in and out of the conversations around him. Because he can smell your perfume—Stella by Stella McCartney, he'd know that fragrance anywhere, you've been wearing it since you were seventeen—and you're warm and snug beside him. He feels completely insane. But he also feels inflated with a heart-crushing joy at having you so close. He's trying his best not to draw attention to it or to you because what he's always liked most about your friendship is that you're just his. God, he needs to do better at seeing you more often, talking more, being more. Each breath as he's touching you is like a crack of electricity through his chest that aches beautifully. Nobody else feels like this. Even when he's dated, what he's felt with them can't hold a candle to his boyhood crush on you.)

You sip your drink and laugh at the embarrassing story that's being told about Harry, oblivious to his torment. Oblivious to how Harry feels your forearm brush his leg and has the overwhelming desire to deposit his palm on your thigh and keep it there, probably forever.

It strikes you that the last time you saw Harry was before the current anecdote about him in Italy happened, and at the table, it's being spoken about as though it was ancient history. You wonder what historic classification your memory of thirteen-year-old Harry would get, that time he attempted to bleach his hair with lemon juice. He ended up with second-degree burns on his forehead from the acid reacting with the sun.

Or the time Gemma stayed in Holmes Chapel for the summer because she had her first boyfriend, and so you spent six weeks learning that maybe you'd been wrong about who your favourite Styles child was. Maybe the boy who, when you were eleven, didn't impress you much, suddenly at thirteen, demanded all your attention. Made that summer become the first where you considered your outfits and whether your mum sending you next door with homemade snacks made you look lame.

"… And of course, Harry can't walk away from a dance floor when he's on the tequila …" everyone around the table laughs. Harry peeks at you to make sure you are too, but he's not very good at it because you notice, a smile flares on your lips.

You're used to long periods of not seeing each other, it's how it's always been. Harry and Gemma spent the summers with their dad and then returned to Holmes Chapel for real life. Sometimes that's what it still felt like, as though each time you saw either of them you were acutely aware there was a foreign Real Life they would go back to without you.

Harry in particular. You were used to not seeing him for months on end, usually the whole school year. Just a few messages over MySpace and birthday cards, and then, when you were out of school, invites to parties Harry couldn't come to anymore—'I'm in Australia, how insane is that? Sorry, I'll miss your 18th …' or 'I can only stay until the 8th, could you maybe graduate a week earlier? ;)'—and emails every other month with a new mobile number for you to overwrite his contact in your phone with. You're not saying you feel hard done by in your friendship, you don't. It's just always very take-what-you-can-get with Harry.

"You've got your thinky eyes on," he's pivoted his whole body towards you, hips twisted in an entirely uncomfortable looking position. Harry's got his resting elbow on the table right next to where your hand holds your drink, and he's looking down at you with careful eyes, "Where are you?"

"The pool a dozen summers ago," you answer easily, pursing your lips together and running a knuckle along your hairline, "Thinking about your ah, burn incident."

Harry's face explodes in a grin, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling and then capture yours again, "For fuck's sake, you're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"You were a horrible blonde," you remark quickly, "If you ever so much as blink in the direction of a packet of bleach you have to call me, okay? I'll have no issue telling you, categorically, you should never dye your hair."

"Categorically," Harry mimics you childishly, "Alright, I get it, you went to uni. No need to use words with fifty syllables to make me feel stupid."

You bring your glass up to your lips, "Come off it, Harry, you're ten times smarter than me."

His forehead raises, "You're the cleverest person I know. Don't make me call Gem to confirm it."

"Don't bring your sister into this, Harry," you deadpan.

He goes to reply but holds back, something unnamable travelling across his eyes as he watches you lick your lips after taking another sip of your drink. Harry's leaning a little closer than he might usually, and despite the fact he's a few drinks in he still smells only of Tom Ford and clean clothes. He's just about to ask you what you're doing the next day when he gets hit in the side of the head with a coaster.

"Hey," he cries out, pulling back from you and frowning around at the group trying to figure out who the culprit is," 'M the fucking birthday boy, watch it."

Lisa is the girl directly across from Harry and yourself, and she's is the one who threw it. She's giving Harry a coy smile and holds up her empty glass to him, a not so subtle request makes the drink in your hand feel like a concrete brick. Something dirty you don't like having. She's got captivating blue eyes and straight blonde hair—exactly Harry's usual type. Your heart sinks as he slides out of the booth next to you, laughing at her flirtatious request and taking a tally of who else wants a new drink.

"Y/N?" Your name is delicate on his lips, and it makes you want to cry. Why is it so easy for you to make things feel like they mean more with him?

You direct your smile his way, "I'm good, thanks."

His head tilts to one side, "You sure?"

"Positive," you nod, feeling your cheeks burn as everyone watches the exchange.

"Okay," Harry taps the table with the corner of his phone, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, you sneak off to the bathroom, happy to see Harry's beaten you back from the bar when you return. He's sitting in your spot, deep in conversation with the person beside him who you recognise from the radio. Tentatively, you slip in next to him, careful not to touch him this time. Harry's got his hand casually resting on the table, turning your glass forty-five degrees one way and then back the other way as he speaks. You think about reaching over and pulling it out of his hand gently (you're losing your buzz, and Little Miss Bombshell across the table has made you feel silly and juvenile) but it looks to be an almost serious conversation, so you don't. With a smile plastered on your face, you look around the table, resisting the urge to pull out your phone to check if either of your flatmates has text you to meet up with them somewhere.

It's a delicious whiff of your perfume behind him that turns Harry's head. You're back from the bathroom, although nobody was able to confirm that's where you went when he got back from the bar and asked after you. Harry pushes your drink over and gives you a smile, taking note of the fresh layer of lipstick and messy oomph to your hair that perfectly shows off the new style and bangs.

Golden, he thinks, As always,

"Your new hair really does look beautiful," Harry tells you, the bar stilling around you as his face becomes all the world is for you at that moment, "Next time, don't wait for a dickhead to break your heart before doing something to make yourself feel good."

You swallow down the thickness in your throat, "Thanks, Harry."

++

Walking to the next bar, Harry can't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?"

You kick your foot out as you wait at a set of traffic lights, half the group ran to cross, but you, Harry and a couple of others were too slow, "What happened with what?"

Harry watches his breath fan out in front of his face, "With your ex, with …"

"Tim."

"Tim, yeah," he turns to look down at you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, "What happened with Tim?"

"Nothing really," you start strong, then shrug one shoulder as you think about it. It's safe to cross so you wait until you're stepping up over the gutter and onto the opposite footpath before you continue, "Probably a lot of little things but … Always felt like he thought I was asking for a bit too much. I guess in the end he just didn't like me all that much."

The way your voice drops kills Harry, he's not detecting self-deprecation but something far worse. He's detecting acceptance or acknowledgement or like you're confessing some truth that should have been obvious.

"Y/N," he stops walking and halts you as well, lets Adrian and Lisa walk around and out in front of you, "If he didn't like you very much then he's got some kind of chemical imbalance. I mean it, this guy's not worth a second of your heartache."

It's not like Harry's a dickhead about it, not like he thinks you should date people with more money or status or who are more impressive. A person isn't their job or what car they drive, he knows that. Harry's not about judging anyone, but you really do seem to date guys not worthy of you. He hasn't met many of them, but Harry knows this to be true because if they were worthy, you simply wouldn't be single right now. If you dated someone half-decent, there wouldn't be a chance in hell they'd let you go. You're beautiful and thoughtful and intelligent and funny—so funny—which means Harry knows without a doubt that this Tim guy was an absolute fuckwit.

"It's not necessarily about the guy," you start and Harry can hear the thick emotion in your voice, "Is it? It's about the idea. The disappointment is more about not getting the fairytale, not finding my person. Not getting the whole package everyone else seems to have found. I know Tim wasn't right—truth be told I didn't end up liking him very much either—doesn't stop me from being sad that I still haven't found it."

"'It'… That's what you're looking for?" Harry asks, eyes out front where the rest of the group are all stopped waiting at another set of traffic lights.

They're laughing and chatting loudly to other people on nights out, and hanging off street poles to get funny pictures. He doesn't want to catch up to them, not when the two of you are in the middle of this conversation that's making his heart race and his hands sweat. He starts taking smaller steps.

"Yeah," you breathe out, almost sounding ashamed of yourself, "Don't seem to be looking in the right places."

Look over here, Harry thinks.

"But I mean, each breakup I end up getting something out of it," you've flicked your positivity switch, "This time I got these boots and bangs," you kick out your foot and watch Harry take note of your footwear, "Last break up I got four houseplants and a new watch … It's not all bad. What about you?" you turn it back on Harry, "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

It's hard to tell with Harry. You either find out from his sister or sometimes, social media. Although that's all usually trash. Generally, when Harry's seeing someone, you'll hear it confirmed from Gemma, and the next time you see Harry, it'll be something you're assumed to know. You haven't seen Gemma since Christmas time though, for your annual festive get together, and she didn't mention anything. Tim had ended things with you a few days before, so that was the main topic of conversation.

"No," Harry confirms what you'd already deduced—and hoped—in your head, "Not for a while now."

"Got your eye on anyone?" You quiz faux cheekily, your smile a little too wide.

Yes, you, he says to himself as he looks at the side of your face.

You hope he's not got some girl in LA he's into. Just like you'd hoped his answer to the previous question. But the hope was silly, something that bloomed in your chest each time you saw him and died again before you were home in your bed, alone.

"I'll let you know," he says aloud.

You think you see something else there in his expression, but you know you can't have. Your mind is swirling, and you're feeling a tingling sensation all over that you know you shouldn't. It'll only leave you disappointed when you part ways tonight and don't see him for another few months. The tiny bits of maybe mores and perhaps are dangerous to things to cling on to now, they'll all turn into Nothings very quickly.

Someone steals his attention away from you when you get to the next street corner. Most of the group are gathered there, and you're not sure whether to believe it when Lisa says they missed the green man to cross the road because they were talking. She sides up to Harry and starts waving her hands around in an animated story about something or other. Harry crosses the street with her, and you give him up for the night.

But he's acutely aware of what's happened. Harry's not stupid—he's emotionally intelligent, and spent enough time with Lisa on nights out before—and he can see that she's deliberately pulled him aside. He likes her, quite a bit, but she doesn't make his insides flip, or his toes curl. She's firmly Just A Friend. Harry hasn't spent countless hours over the years thinking about her, lying to himself about how he's completely fine when she starts dating someone new. He's never thought about an alternative life, one where he stayed at school and went to uni and got a regular job and maybe (definitely) ended up with her.

He's imagined that life with you—more than once. More than a dozen times, if he's honest. For years now, Harry's bitten his tongue and smiled through the pain of not being able to have you. And sure, most of the time it's a dull ache, deep in the recess of his mind, that needs to be called on or conjured to really be felt, but it's always been there. He's always had an (Astronomical) Soft Spot For You. Ever since that summer you broke your arm falling off the back of the ramp at the skate park, and he first saw you cry. At fifteen he didn't know what the hollow but sharp pain through his heart was as he rushed to your side, but now he knows that was the first sign he didn't see you as just a mate. Would never again see you as just a mate.

And now, hearing you use the word 'it'. You say you're out there dating idiots trying to find it and Harry's just unwaveringly sure he that could be him. He wants to be it for you.

You've pulled out your phone and fallen behind, face pulled down as you type away furiously. Harry watches you out of the corner of his eye, half just to watch you and half to make sure you don't get separated entirely from the safety of the group.

"Y/N," he calls out, unable to keep up with Lisa's story and unwilling to try to tune back into it. She stops short, and annoyance flits across her face, but Harry still turns to you, still crosses his arms over his chest and gives you his best scolding look, "It's the oldest trick in the book," he goads you. Lisa sighs behind him, and he ignores it.

Your head slowly comes up and takes in Harry (and Lisa sulking behind him), "What is?"

"Fallin' behind so you can peek at my bum."

You point at the long coat Harry's wearing that goes to his knees, "Can't see half of you under that thing."

"Ah, ha!" He calls out, his pointer finger floating in the air right in front of your face, "So you've tried."

You shove his shoulder and step around him, trying like anything to act neutrally. You're aware Lisa is still watching on, and you're not used to your friendship with Harry being quite so carefully observed. You know your face has gone red and you're really not going to involve yourself in a pissing contest with her. It's not classy and certainly not your vibe.

As you walk away, boots clip up behind you, and Harry heavily drapes his arm right across your shoulders, pulls you into his side, "Was just teasin', love."

"I know," you respond quietly, not upset, not really.

"Though I might've made you sad," Harry continues solemnly, "Know you get embarrassed in front of people."

Your face cracks into a smile, "Opposite of you, hey, you're practically an exhibitionist."

He should flirt because you've led him to a pretty easy window into a dirty joke, but something has Harry hanging onto his regret, "I mean it, shouldn't tease you …Should be old enough to use my words, tell you what I think."

You've got no idea what he's on about, "Harry, the teasing was fine. Where's this bloody bar though?"

Up ahead, everyone's standing on the footpath in a clump. Harry can feel the next words on his lips but has to hold them in when his mates turn and see he's finally caught up. They're waiting a few minutes for a table, someone explains, then they'll be able to go in. Harry thinks how little he feels like another drink at another bar. A few people walk away from the group to share cigarettes. You're standing a little bit away, under the sign for the butcher next-door and kick your foot back against the wall like the slight movement might warm you up.

As he steps up to you, Harry watches you get distracted by the group of people spilling out of the bar you're all about to go into. He doesn't want to take advantage of knowing you're newly single also doesn't want to let this opportunity pass. You're always dating someone, or he is, or there's some other reason not to. There's always a reason to hold back from you and Harry refuses to believe it's the drinks he's had nudging him into this. Neither of you is drunk, he wouldn't even say he's tipsy anymore. Just warm and contemplative and less inhibited than usual.

"C' mere," he calls softly, the tips of his boots landing right in front of yours, your bodies a hands' width apart. He wants you closer.

"Harry—

He opens up his coat to you and when you don't move—your brain is busy short-circuiting—he acts for you and winds his arm around your shoulder to encase you in the warmth, "Get in," Harry says, "You're shivering."

You're shocked by the contact, at him being so close and inviting you in and then just taking you in his jacket. He's wrapped the lapels around both your bodies and forced you against his chest. He hums against you, but you're feeling incredibly awkward with your arms hitched up against your chest and pressed rigidly into his shoulders. You've not been in a hold like this before and certainly not with Harry.

He pulls back and digs around for your wrists, "You've gotta put them around me," he stretches his arms behind his back, taking yours with them and instructing you to really settle against him. "There, that's better," he wraps the jacket back around you, and the two of you stand like that—hearts pressed together, scents converging and your whole frame shaking against his—for what seems like far too long for it mean nothing. Right? Your thoughts ricocheted around inside his jacket and go nowhere, solve nothing in your mind.

Over your shoulder, he sees the rest of the group have gone into the bar. He's not surprised none of them called out, Harry's angled you both away from the door and with his head ducked down against yours they probably (hopefully) missed you both there.

It's Harry's twenty-seventh birthday, and maybe that's made him sullen or introspective. Made him think about the passage of time and how another year has passed him by, yet here he stands in the same place as ever—wanting you. Wishing for more, or waiting for a moment that feels right, or hoping something will happen. With growing older comes a sense of regret and an acceptance that twenty-six has happened and anything he wanted to achieve by that age but didn't he never will. There's only the future. Only the things he can do. And the mix of all that with the cocktails has Harry feeling as though he has to act on this. Every birthday he thinks maybe by the next one the Somethings or the Maybes might have happened, and you won't be standing in front of him as just his friend.

"Always had a thing for you," Harry says, his chin resting against the crown of your head while his arms link around low on your back, holding you against him, "I've always liked you more than I should."

Oh god, you think, your chest freezing in place, I'm hallucinating.

"What?" Now your heart is really racing. Or maybe it's completely stopped, seized up and fallen out of your chest onto the salt-covered footpath.

His voice comes out evenly as he repeats himself, "Feels bigger than a crush, but I guess that's what it is … Since we were kids."

(Oh, how those words have been his best-kept secret for all these years but now, in less than two seconds, he's let go of them more easily than almost anything else he's ever done)

"Y/N?"

Harry thought he'd be scared. Thought this would be a moment of panic. Every time he's imagined this he's thought 'and I'd be absolutely shitting myself because what if she doesn't feel the same way?' but now that he's said it he's almost completely calm. The only reason he's worried is that he can feel how hard your heart is beating—even through the layers of clothing—and surely that quickly can't be good for your health.

You're speechless, and he leans back so he can see your face and, oh your eyes. Why on earth didn't he say it to your face, so he could be looking in your eyes? Watch his words project across your expression and settle into your mind.

You look worried, and Harry's transported back to that time he had you on FaceTime when he was somewhere on tour with One Direction. He was telling you about how management was going to let them fly friends out on tour, bring a little bit of home along and give the boys some needed space from each other. You were nodding along and so excited for him but sure Harry was talking about someone else, that this was just news and he'd called up to tell you how he was inviting the boys he went to school with in Cheshire or people he met through X-Factor. Of course I'm bringing out you and Gem, you idiot, he'd told you when you were surprised to get an invite, Who else did you think I was talking about?

He kind of loves watching the look on your face right now, the cogs turning in your head and wheels spinning, furiously trying to figure out what Harry means.

Why isn't he terrified of what you're about to say?

"Why … but you've… and I've…"

Your hands have moved to his hips so you can see him properly, and Harry's encouraged by the fact you haven't pulled away or pushed him off you. You're watching him with a puzzled look on your face and a burning heat across your cheeks.

He brings his forearms up to rest on your shoulders and smiles at you, "I wasn't brave enough to act on it … Guess I didn't want to fuck it up. Didn't want it to not work out. Couldn't stand you becoming an ex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." You don't seem capable of more than one word at a time.

"You feel bad for yelling at me about the chocolate bar now, don't you?" Harry's narrowed his eyes playfully.

That does it.

Your eyes snap back up to his face from being fixated on staring at his neck, "Chocolate bar … No, what the fuck, Harry."

He laughs. A real laugh that comes from the base of his tummy and squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his nose. His head falls back, and it's a deep, uninhibited laugh, "Don't stomp your new boots at me," he eventually says, crooking his head down to be almost pressing his forehead against yours. "You've been my favourite girl for years, I've always been a pansy idiot who didn't want to wreck the friendship."

"Oh, and now you don't mind wrecking it?" You bark back sarcastically, unsure why you're angry at him but you are.

"No," Harry says softly, moving through your emotional responses seamlessly, "I don't think it's going to wreck it, do you? Think twenty-seven has finally given me the balls to pursue it. To tell you how I feel. How I've always felt."

Your eyes instantly ball with hot tears you weren't prepared for, "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agrees readily, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Why have you told me this now," your voice is small, unsure.

Harry frowns, now he's starting to panic, "Do you … Do you not feel the same? Or do you not think maybe you could?"

Oh, if only he could have been in your head every time you saw him these last few years. Heard you talk yourself down and away from anything more than platonic, from any thoughts that might elevate you in his eyes. You've spent all this time trying to convince yourself to believe you were nothing more than a friend to him, and now this.

"Harry, are you sure you—

—I'm sure," he insists quickly.

"I just—

—I'm sure."

You're suddenly very embarrassed by the conversation the two of you had earlier about your ex. The conversation where you basically told Harry you're incredibly desperate to settle down and find The One. He's so achingly cool, and you feel like a little tinned tomato, thin-skinned and persistently flustered.

Tinned tomato? Really? You berate yourself, Case in bloody point.

"Y/N"

You scratch roughly at your forehead and grimace at whatever thoughts are going through your mind, "I'm just …"

Harry brings one hand up to fix your bangs, carefully sweeping the hair back across your forehead evenly, letting the pads of his fingers dust over your skin, "I think if you didn't feel the same you'd have said No by now."

His words steal the air from your lungs, "Harry, you've just always …"

"I've always?"

"I never thought …"

The smile comes up over his face gently, "It's me, Y/N, please finish a sentence. I'd really like to kiss you, but you haven't yet said anything to imply you'd be open to that …"

You pull your lips together like a reflex you can't help, you've rarely let yourself fall that deep into imaging things with Harry, but your body reacts to his words in an instant, "Promise you're not kidding …"

"I promise I'm not kidding," Harry said sincerely. "I'd never kid around about this, Y/N."

You believe him, and ten seconds of bravery comes over you, "I was thirteen."

His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out what you mean, "Thirteen?"

"My thing for you," you continue quietly, heart racing as adrenaline swamps your legs, "Started the summer I turned thirteen."

Harry hears the slight shaking to your voice and almost misses what you've said. Then it hits him.

"Oh yeah?" He squints at you and pulls up his nose with a smile, a secret little smile that will never belong to anyone but the two of you. The Smile that happened just before Harry leant down and kissed you for the first time, pressed his warm lips against your cold ones and really breathed you in.

He holds it like that for a moment, your lips touching but not moving. Then his hands come up to cup your face, and Harry moves his mouth to one side, just a touch. You open up to him, and he has the brief thought that this is probably the Most Important Kiss Of His Life. His insides curl in on themselves as he gets completely lost in you. Completely lost in how perfect this moment feels and how much finally kissing you feels like a relief.

You can't believe this is happening. You're still tucked into Harry's coat—warm and safe—but now you're joined at the mouth, and Harry's a really really good kisser. He's got his thumbs pressed into your cheeks and his fingers laced through the hair around your ears. When his tongue first licks your bottom lip and then goes searching for yours, you don't think you've felt yourself flicker On so quickly. A soft moan escapes your lips, and Harry's kiss somehow becomes harder, his nose bumping yours where he'd been good at keeping things smooth until then. As quickly as it intensifies, Harry takes a slight step back and drags his mouth away from yours.

"Y/N," he breaths out your name, sealing your lips with one of his thumbs as he pulls back. Harry's taking stock of your face (hopefully) getting used to being this close to you. Noting the way your eyelashes kink out at an odd angle right at the corner of your eye, and the freckle that's so close to the edge of your mouth he's never noticed it before. Harry's can feel your heart has slowed down, and the expression on your face right now is content, but curious. He's also sure he can see fear under it all.

"Well," your voice shakes, because Harry's looking at you like you've only dreamed and now that you're here you're not really sure what happens next. You kissed Harry.

He clears his throat lightly and his hands both fall to hold either side of your neck, "There's no way I'm going back to not being able to do that whenever I want."

Then, he kisses you again. You feel yourself melt against him as Harry's chest presses back against yours. You link your arms around his waist, clutching the back of his shirt between your fingers as Harry leads the kiss with a hand on your neck and the other holding your chin carefully. You've picked up right where the last one let off, hungry and exploring and a little bit desperate (perhaps a lot desperate) to have more of each other.

But then his phone rings in his trousers pocket, right against your hip, and you jump away in surprise.

"Shit," Harry mutters, pulling the stupid machine out, cursing the universe, "Sorry … It's Aiden," he tells you with an eye-roll.

And then you're back to reality. Your drinks have all worn off, your feet ache, your ears are freezing, and you've just made out with one of your oldest, best friends. Shit.

"Oh," you take a hearty step back, hands slipping out from Harry's coat and your body bracing the full brunt of the cold night, "Yeah … That's—

—Aiden," Harry barks the name of his mate down the phone while at the same time hooking his free arm around the back of your neck and pulling you close again. He's not giving up touching you that easily, and he doesn't care, quite frankly, about giving you any room to start internalising or retreating from him, "No, we've gone to get some food … I'll see you during the week sometime. Tell everyone thanks for—Yes, I'm serious … I don't care, saw all you lot last week … I'm hanging up now. Bye."

You listened in on the conversation because it was really all you could do. Aiden was obviously inside the bar, and they were all wondering where Harry got to. We've gone to get some food, Harry told him, so they'd know he was with you. (You supposed he was hardly going to say, 'oh yeah we've been out the front making out') Bits and pieces of the other end of the conversation, you were able to pick up on, but not enough to truly know what was said. By the end of the call, Harry was smiling though, you could hear it in his voice.

His nose found the shell of your ear and Harry leant into you, "Come back to mine, or we can go to yours … Watch a movie, play Scrabble, anything … Just wanna be with you."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Harry," you murmur, your mind struggling to make sense of what's just happened. You're outside a club in Soho held against Harry's chest with lips that know what he tastes like and a body that's on fire.

"I'm not tired," he shoots back, "Are you?"

"Well, no but—

—Great," Harry turns towards the road, takes a few steps to the curb (you trot along with him under his arm), as he flags down a black cab. "Mine or yours?"

His question is simple, he prompts you to answer by calling your name as he opens the door for you and gestures for you to hurry up and get in.

"Yours," you say.

Harry doesn't speak much in the cab, you figure it's about privacy. You hope it's about privacy. The thirty-minute drive out of the city and to his place feels much longer. Halfway through he reaches over for your hand and gives you a reassuring smile across the back seat. You thought the journey might make you sleepy, the sitting down in a warm car would bring the haze over your eyes and bring the long day to a close in your mind. But you could never feel sleepy with Harry's fingers playing with yours, or when he leans over and kisses your cheek for no reason at all.

At his house, Harry tells you to make yourself at home while he turns on the kettle for a cuppa. You kick your boots off in the hallway, and your feet start throbbing in relief as you follow his retreating form. It's certainly not the lusty, hurried entry you imagined you might have. Which only plants doubts in your mind about what's actually going on between the two of you.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," you call out ahead of you, turning back to the stairs and taking yourself up to Harry's second storey.

Upstairs you don't take long. You're looking a little worse for wear—who wouldn't at 3am—but you're not really in the mood to try to fix yourself. Even if you did Harry would notice, and that felt like something you wanted to avoid. As you walk back to the landing, you wriggle your toes in your socks and happen to look back down the upstairs hallway. You've been in this house dozens of times before but this time feels different. It feels quiet and intimate somehow. Just as you're about to go down the first step, you see Harry's bedroom door is open on the opposite side of the stairs to the bathroom, and you notice something that makes you stop.

The book you got him for Christmas is sitting on his bedside table.

You're standing over it before you realise that your legs have started moving, looking at a picture of Anne, Gemma and Harry, a bottle of water and the book. You pick it up, the cover a little bent and the spine cracked to where he's read. Harry's using the birthday card you send along with the gift as a bookmark. The top of the familiar design sticking out the top of the pages, you can't even really remember what you wrote inside. Something generic probably. Platonic.

Happy birthday, old man! Have a wonderful day, sorry I can't be there in person. Love, Y/N.

The floorboard at the top of the stairs creaks and you turn around to Harry looking surprised to see you standing over his bed. He's got two cups of tea and a family-sized Dairy Milk bar under his arm. Something churns inside you, this was Harry as you'd always known him. Except now you looked at his lips and wondered why the hell you weren't kissing him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been reading that," Harry sees the book in your hands and walks towards you, "It's excellent, unsurprisingly."

A smile starts on your face, "You doubted my selection ability?"

"Never," he returns quickly and then raises his eyebrows at you, "Looking for anything else?"

You feel your cheeks heat and you drop the book back into its place, "No, sorry, I was coming down the stairs and saw … I'm sorry."

Harry passes you a tea, "It was really kind of you to send something over. Was fun having something to unwrap on the day."

"I'm glad," you smile and take a sip of the tea. It's sweet, and you screw up your face, "This is yours."

Harry watches you with a strange expression on his face as the two of you swap mugs. He's worrying his bottom lip, obviously weighing something up in his mind. You see it when he decides what he' going to do about it.

"I've got something I want to show you," he tells you finally, tilting his head back to the door. "Wanna come see?"

"What is it?" You ask automatically, but Harry's already walking out the door, and you have to hurry to catch up.

He leads you into his study, and you hover in the doorway as Harry sets his tea and the chocolate down on the desk. He pulls Bananagrams out of the draw and places it next to the mug.

"We're actually going to play Bananagrams?" You ask.

He looks back at you, "You'd prefer actual Scrabble?"

"I didn't know what you meant by—I guess I …"

Realisation dawns on his face, and he widens his eyes, "Oh, you thought it was a euphemism."

"No!" You snap back quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks (for the record, yes, you thought 'a movie or Scrabble' was a thinly veiled way of Harry suggesting … something else), "No, I just … I just don't think I'll be able to spell words right now."

"I didn't think you were still tipsy" Harry states, shit-stirring.

"I'm not!" You squawk at him. "I'm… I' m—You kissed me!"

He grins, loving the fact he's driven you a little crazy, "Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

Harry's playing with you. He's teasing. And you know it but what you don't know is how he's so confidently jumped to it. Not when you feel like you've been left on the street outside the bar trying to figure out what the hell this means, and what's going to happen tomorrow when he stops looking at you like that. You don't like to think this whole night could've been him playing with you, you don't know Harry to be that cruel. But there's a tripwire in your mind you keep getting snared on.

It's Harry.

"C' mere," he reaches his hand down across the room between you both, "C' mere and kiss me again. You don't seem to be getting it."

"Getting it?" You're cut off by Harry taking two big steps toward you and then planting his lips on yours again.

His palms find your hips, and you hold him in the same spot. It takes a moment for the two of you to find a rhythm, and even then, you're too in your head. You're struggling to remember what little Harry's said about this whole thing. You know he said he had a crush on you and you've gotten the distinct impression he wasn't too fond of your ex. But for all you know Harry's been kissing his mates like this for years but just never gotten around to kissing you. You might've been next on the list. He's a friendly guy. Maybe a crush isn't what it used to be. Or maybe—

He pulls back from your lips with a huffy expression on his face, "Y/N," he says quietly, "I'm a man with an incredibly fragile ego, whatever you're worrying about is really getting in the way of kissing you."

"I'm just—

—Let me show you what I brought you in here for," he interrupts you, takes your hand and tugs you towards the window. Then, he puts a hand on each of your shoulders and directs your attention to the wall.

It's lined with record sale plaques for singles and albums over the years—double Platinums and Gold-Somethings. Harry watches you eyes run over them all, a proud but unsure look in your eye. You're not sure why he's showing them to you, he knows that. He hopes you're not intimidated by them, he's certainly not showing you to try to score any points. There's a sweeter gesture behind it. He points to one leaning against the wall, not hanging. He's got it resting on the bubble wrap it was sent over in.

Stepping up closer behind you, Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, "That one's for you."

"What?"

"I want you to have it, been saving it for you … If I ever got brave enough."

The question falls from your lips before you really think about it, "Why would you want me to have it …"

Harry waits to see if you'll let on you've figured it out, he thought it was pretty obvious really, but you've never been one to elevate yourself or assume, and Harry knows that about you. So, when you don't keep talking, he confirms it for you, "That song is about you."

You just blink, eyes on the framed plaque taking in the name of the song and hearing it in your head.

It's about me? You think you want to hear it, you need to Google the lyrics and make sure you have them right in your head. Harry wrote a song about you. Harry wrote that song about you.

"When … When did you write it?"

"You mean why?" Harry raises his head and steps to stand next to you, he observes your face carefully.

"No, I mean when." You're starring at it like the plaque might answer the question, "When did you write it?"

Harry runs a hand over his head as he thinks, "A few years back, after that time you came out to LA … Didn't record it until this year though …"

Harry watches your face expand in surprise and then crumple back down to confusion. You really don't get it. He's not sure how to make you in one night. He supposes he can't. So he trails his hand up the back of your arm and then around your back, tilting his head down and waiting to see if you'll pull away. When you don't, he kisses the corner of your mouth and then opens his wider to take you lips in his properly.

It's different to the kisses outside the bar, now that you're both out of your outer layers Harry can feel your body against his in ways he's only dreamed, and it's sending everything straight between his legs. Harry's hands explore your back and the curve of your hips, thumbs almost reaching the underside of your breasts but not quite. It's a little awkward when he senses you've felt him hardening between you. Usually, lust clouds that moment, and Harry doesn't mind intimate partners being acutely aware of how they're affecting him. But with you he's a little hesitant, he senses the awkwardness on your side. Friends don't feel those body parts on each other, friends don't… He almost groans when your mouth leaves his without warning.

You think he'll probably change his mind about all this.

"Have you changed your mind?" You ask, not able to stop it.

Confusion colours his features, and his lips smack together, like he's savouring tasting you, "Wha—

"About wanting to be kissing me," you clarify.

"What? No." Harry's eyebrows have shot up, and he's shaking his head, "I barely even started! Didn't I just say I wrote that song about you—why the hell would I—want to do more than just kiss you—You think I'm gonna change my mind?"

You shrug, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well," he stands up straighter and pins you with his stare, "I'm not. I promise I'm not going to change my mind. And I promise I'll never make you feel like you're asking for too much. Ever."

"Now you're trying to make me cry," you say, hearing him repeat back to you the insecurity leftover from your conversation about your ex. You're half kidding with your words but also not. You believe him. You trust him.

Harry grimaces, sways your bodies together gently, "I really hate seeing you cry, could you not? I had other plans."

You sniff through a laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your middle tighter," What plans are those?"

"Well, I literally thought Scrabble," he tells you through a smile, trying his best to make you laugh, "But I'm open to whatever dirty things you were thinking as well."

"You'll win Scrabble."

So, Harry instructs you to bring your tea and your sore feet back into his bedroom. He gets you a fluffy pair of hiking socks and tells you to take yours off, and your tights, and get comfortable on the bed with him and the block of chocolate. You've polished off a family size together before, the sugar going straight to your heads and always leading to a giggly night of reminiscing and Almosts.

This time though, you only get halfway through the tea and Harry pushes the chocolate off the bed onto the floor in favour of you straddling his hips. It started with a stolen kiss against your temple, and then another on your cheek, and one close to your lips, and then you captured his face in your hands and really kissed him. Within a few moments, Harry was dragging you over to him. His hands settle on the swell of your backside as it sits against his thighs and your lips trace the line of his jaw. This was really happening. You'd really let him peel off your dress and flick off your bra. His shirt was somewhere with the forgotten snacks, and you seemed extremely eager to keep feeling his hardness pressed between your legs.

"I swear to god, I never dreamed this would happen," he murmurs, hissing when your hips pressed into his at a different angle, "Was sure I'd be going to your wedding one day, completely miserable and probably end up drunk and causing a scene. Embarrass you so badly you'd never want to see me again, and you'd just run away with your stupid husband."

You pull back and watch Harry ramble, your bare chest rising and falling against his, "You're a real glass half full kinda guy, aren't you?" you smile at him.

"I just," his eyes drop to your chest, nipples puckered for him, and he scrunches them shut then drops his forehead onto your sternum with a big sigh, "This is fucking unreal, and my brain is just struggling to comprehend—you're breathtaking, and I feel like my chest is gonna explode."

"It's also 4am, so there's always the potential your brain is just plain tired," your index finger is drawing circles on the back of his shoulder as Harry leans against you, you pause and run your hand over the back of his head, "Maybe we should sleep for a little … I'll be here when you wake up," you say in response to Harry squeezing his arms around your waist tightly as if you were going to disappear. Or worse, leave.

His indescribable green eyes find yours in the light from the bedroom lamps, "Will you let me hold you while you sleep?"

"Yeah," you nod, although somehow that question seems more intimate than the lack of clothes between you at the moment. You're distinctly less dressed than Harry, who's still got his trousers on, you're only covered by your underwear.

"We don't have to rush this, right? Got all the time in the world now," still, as he speaks his palms trail up your back and then down again, skimming the sides of your breasts, "Just don't wanna miss anything is all."

"I promise I'm incredibly boring in my sleep, won't miss anything," you tease, "Might be the only time you get any peace."

Harry tightens his forearms around your back and finds the soft skin below your ear with his lips—once, twice, three little kisses—"I feel pretty at peace right now, just having you here. Feels like I'm living a dream."

You don't reply for a moment, but you let your body rest against Harry's in a comfortable hug, your voice is quiet, "You really wrote me a song?"

"I did."

"I've always loved that song."

“Well, it's been yours all along."

"Nobody's ever written a song about me."

"I should hope not."

"Are you going to write another one?"

"Without a doubt."

++

Chat to me here

[starsstruck]

cloudbusting; part four.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. horoscope readings, mandarin oranges, and star-gazing strolls.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 13k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for being patient with me for this chapter, i hope everything turned out okay ! a big huge thank you to the amazing tina @sunflowers-styles​ for helping me out and being the best beta ily ❤️❤️ as always let me know what you think and please share if you can ! i love to hear everyone's thoughts and comments <3 happy reading !

Sat comfortably on Mae’s couch, you were taking a big bite of the hummus covered carrot that you had just grabbed.

“I have some frozen perogies!”

Mae’s voice floated from the kitchen, both of your laziness to make a proper dinner was about to be satisfied with hummus and snacks before Mae started digging through her fridge.

“That sounds perfect!” You called back, reaching over her coffee table for another carrot. You could hear her shuffling through the kitchen, reappearing by the couch with a box of herb flavoured crackers in hand.

“I’ll put them on later,” she hummed, seating herself next to you while turning down the volume of the Fiona Apple that was playing through the speaker. “Don’t feel like cooking just yet.”

“How was the weekend away?”

Mae had just come back from a two-night stay with her partner’s parents, at their place out in Rochester. “It was good – honestly it was pretty nice to completely get away from everything, even if it was for a bit, and even if it was with Robin’s parents.”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded, unable to help yourself as you kept reaching for more crackers. “It’s good you got to relax for a bit.”

“Work has been far too stressful lately,” Mae nodded. “Aren’t you getting some time off soon as well?”

You rolled your eyes, waiting until you finished chewing your carrot until you spoke. “I guess. It’s not really going to be relaxing for me though.”

She shot you a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be okay – if things get too bad tell me, and I’ll come over with some kind of emergency.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed, not wanting to think about the reason you were going to be taking some time off work.

“Don’t think about that just yet,” Mae told you, a smile lining her lips. “How’s work going otherwise? Oh! Anything new with the painter boy?”

You bit your lips together, watching the bowl of homemade hummus as if it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. You knew Mae could read you well, and you knew that as soon as you averted your gaze that she’d be onto something.

“Something did happen?” She repeated the question, voice rising in excitement as you tried to hold back your little smirk.

“He ate me out on the floor of his apartment.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Mae sprang up, back straightening out as she turned to fully face you. “Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he was even going to make a move on you.”

“Well…” you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “He did.”

It had been three days since you last saw Harry. You had your usual two days off, coming back to work just this Saturday morning.

After the little distraction from your painting session, you had pulled your dress back over your knees. And with starry eyes and warm cheeks, you sat up with legs pressed to his and your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

He had tugged you closer to him until you were practically sitting on his lap, muttering near nonsense against your mouth. “You’re unreal, you know that?” and “Sound so good saying my name like that, could listen to you for hours.”

Just the mere thought brought butterflies to your stomach; which was something you thought only happened to protagonists in romance novels.

You could still feel his warm breath against your skin and the sweet nothings he had kissed onto your lips.

“Was he good?”

Mae really didn’t need to ask; she could tell by the look on your face. You nodded, confirming her suspicion with a smile bit between your teeth. “Really good.”

“I love that,” she chuckled lightly. “Anything else happen? And wait, when exactly did this happen?”

“Few days ago – I went over to his to do some painting with him. I actually ran into him last weekend when I was out which was when he first kissed me.”

“What? You never told me that.” She mocked a pout, not actually upset with you.

“I haven’t seen you!” You laughed, always favouring to tell her things in person rather than on the phone or through text. 

“I suppose…” she laughed. “Have you seen him since?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean it was only three days ago.”

“Do you have plans to see him again?”

Again, you shook your head. “No – I don’t know. I realized I don’t even have his number or anything, I usually just see him at my work.”

“You could always DM him,” Mae nodded, reminding you of the time you both had spent scrolling through his Instagram.

“That’s true,” you bit at your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wants or anything.”

You fell quiet for a second, still gnawing at your lip. When you thought about it, you really only ever did see him at your work and other than his art practice and what kind of coffee he liked to drink, you didn’t know that much about him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“No,” you again shook your head. “He said that we didn’t have to do anything more if I didn’t want to – honestly I would’ve returned the favour but things just didn’t really go that way.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

The wheels in your head were spinning. “Maybe he just wants something physical, I don’t know…”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Don’t jump the gun. By the sound of everything I kind of doubt that, he didn’t even get off.”

“I mean, is that weird? Maybe he does that – like in Sex and the City.”

Mae let out a loud laugh. “Life is not like Sex and the City, stop comparing yourself to that shitty show. Also, what does it have to do with anything?”

“That’s a plot,” you nodded, hating yourself for remembering all the awful plot points from the 90s TV show. “Charlotte dates this guy who’s like, notorious for going down on women and wants nothing else from a relationship.”

Mae raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” shaking your head, a small furrow in your brow as you actually couldn’t remember how the episode had ended. “It wasn’t bad – but it wasn’t good. That’s all he did – he wasn’t a good guy or something, I don’t remember. He only was in the one episode.”

Mae laughed.  “Babe you’ve got to stop watching that show.”

“It’s entertaining,” you shrugged, fully knowing Mae also loved to indulge in the guilty pleasure with you.

“What does this have to do with Harry – your Harry?” Mae made the distinction, as if you would have only thought about Harry Goldenblatt, Charlotte’s second husband of the show.

“I don’t remember,” you muttered, bottom lip still between your teeth as you couldn’t for the life of you remember why it was bad that Charlotte dated a guy that only wanted to eat her out.

Snapping yourself out from the mess in your mind, you shook your head. “Anyway, sorry. Things are good, I’m just overthinking.”

Mae was quiet for a second. “Do you like him?”

You paused, already knowing your answer but being slightly afraid of it. “I think I do.”

It was two days later when you saw Harry again. With your usual Monday opening shift, the slow morning had you leaning against the counter flipping through the daily newspaper as you found yourself with not much else to do.

Playing with the paper straw that was in your third coffee of the day, you blindly brought it up to your mouth just as you heard someone walk through the door.

An older man with a red baseball cap shuffled through the propped open door, giving you a two-finger wave as he walked over to the counter.

“Morning,” he chirped, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter as you went to grab his morning muffin. “Nice day out, isn’t it?”

One pet peeve you had about your job, was the weather talk that every patron seemed to insist on having. They all loved to chat about the bright sun outside while you were stuck working inside. “Beautiful day.”

Grabbing the bill from the counter, your eyes flitted back to the front door as you were counting out the customer’s change. A familiar silhouette of someone else walking through the door had caught your attention, eyes widening a bit when you realized it was Harry who had just come in.

He had his usual canvas bag over his shoulder, light wash blue jeans and a white shirt with some kind of graphic you couldn’t see on it.

Feeling your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, you turned your attention back to the regular (who’s name you couldn’t remember, Bill or something) with the red cap and handed him his change.

Shooting Harry one more look, forcing the corners of your lips not to open in a wide smile while you moved to prepare a small americano.

As you watched the espresso pour into the mug, you willed your body not to flush at even being in the same room as Harry. You felt like you were thirteen, with a silly crush on a boy you’d only ever spoken to once. Except that this was much more real than a small crush.

You had never really felt this way with anyone before.

“Small americano,” you spoke not too loudly in the near empty café, your voice easily carrying over the sound of Françoise Hardy’s Voilà.

The red capped regular grabbed his coffee, pouring a generous amount of cream in it with a small thank you before he headed to his table near a window, ready for his breakfast with his book.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Harry having placed his things at his usual table and was tapping away on his phone. Cleaning out the portafilter, you wiped off the counter before deciding to head back to your coffee and newspaper.

It was not even a minute later that you felt a presence loom from the other side of the counter.

“Morning,” Harry’s voice was a quiet rasp, clearing his throat as you shot him a glance.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Hi,” you hummed, willing yourself to stop your flush at the memory of the last time you saw him. Hand reaching out for your no longer iced coffee, straw between your lips as you looked up at him again. “What’s your sign?”

Harry’s brow furrowed, a twitch of a smile at his mouth. “What?”

You motioned to the open newspaper in front of you on the counter. “Your sun sign – I’m reading horoscopes.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m an Aquarius. Are you reading all of them?”

You nodded with your own little laugh. “I like to compare them, plus I’m a bit bored. So,” your eyes skimmed over the newsprint. “An Aquarius hm?”

“Is that bad?”

You only hummed, finding it on the page and pausing before reading his daily horoscope to him. “Under today’s amorous skies, sometimes less is more. Resist the urge to come on too strong to a new romantic prospect. A star-gazing stroll through nature could be the perfect way to add a dash or romance to your evening. And who knows? Your nighttime adventure could even bring artistic inspo.”

A few seconds of silence washed over the two of you. Harry had his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to help the nervous twist in his stomach. The horoscope was just a bit too accurate, especially with who was reading it to him.

“That’s – that’s something.” He said after a moment. The bright sun made the little pink blush on his cheeks obvious. He cleared his throat, looking to change the subject. “What’s yours say?”

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice, a bit of a filler horoscope if you ask me.” You sighed, searching for your sign on the page even though you’d just read it not long ago. “Today is all about adventure. Today’s thrill-seeking skies get your engines revving. Expand your horizons, whether you embark on a cross country road trip or rent a cabin in the woods. It’s all about a change in scenery and spiritual balance.”

“Sounds like you need to seek some thrill.” Harry laughed, the words you had read to him about his own horoscope still stuck in his head.

“I guess I do,” you bit back a smile, closing the paper. “Did you only come in for readings today? Or maybe a coffee too?”

“So many reasons I came in today,” he shot you a smile, almost a nervous one.

“Well then,” you hummed, pushing yourself away from the counter to go start preparing a coffee for him. “Let me grab you a drink.”

He followed you, from the other side of the counter, to the espresso machine. After tamping the grounds and waiting for the shot, you placed a hand on your shoulder as you circled your opposite arm, feeling the ever growing knot under your skin. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled lightly. “It’s just my shoulder – I call it barista shoulder. Not everyone gets it, I think it depends on the way you tamp the espresso.” 

You saw the confusion on his face. 

“Tamping – it’s when you use this,” you reached over to grab the heavy tool used to press down grounds. “I honestly don’t know what it’s called - I think it’s just called a tamper? Anyway, you press down the grounds to form this kind of espresso puck.” 

You mimicked the motion, twisting your body. “You need to use a bit of force so I got into the habit of using my entire side to push it down. Some people press just in the wrist or their arm. My old boss had the same issue as me – after years of the repetitive motion it kind of fucks with your whole side; your arm, shoulder, ribs, everything.”

“Your ribs?” 

You quickly stopped the shot that was still pouring, having nearly forgotten about it. 

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly with a sheepish smile. “I went to see a physio for it, I have two ribs that are a bit dislocated.” 

“What?! You have dislocated ribs?!” Harry looked a bit scared. 

“Partially,” you corrected, as if it made a big difference. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. “I try and stretch it out often, I even got acupuncture for it once. It’s more of a dull pain.” 

“Jesus,” he muttered, a small shake to his head. “Dangerous work you do here.” 

You only laughed, scooping out some ice from the machine and placing a few cubs into the glass cup, some espresso splashing onto your hand.

Placing the cup on the counter, you nudged it across in his direction. “For you.” 

“Thank you,” his fingers reached for it, before sliding it a few inches before stopping.

“Oh!” He disappeared for a moment, quickly walking to his table before reappearing in front of you, all in the few seconds the espresso had been pouring for. “Brought these for you.”

He had two mandarin oranges in his hand, holding them out in your direction before placing them on the counter between the two of you.

You were so endeared you wanted to throw them at his head.

“I remembered how you said you usually forget to eat in the morning – actually I don’t even know if you like oranges. You don’t have to – well anyway they’re there for you if you want them.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, warming at the small action. You did in fact enjoy oranges; you loved the smell of them as well. “I love mandarin oranges”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, done with his rambling. “Love the colour too – actually I like the colour tangerine even better,” he smirked lightly, apparently not done with his rambling. “But I only had mandarin oranges.”

“Any citrus fruit really is divine,” you giggled, grabbing one in each hand.

Harry saw you disappear behind the espresso machine for a brief second, only the top of your head visible between the mugs, before you turned back towards him while wiping your hands on your jeans.

He held the small glass between his fingers, mouth dropping open to speak but nothing came out when both your attentions turned to see a family waiting for you to take their order.

You only shot him a little smile, grabbing the pen from your back pocket and moved to take their order.

Harry went to go take his seat, pulling out his usual workbook that was slowly but surely filling up with page after page of colourful sketches.

He thought over the words you had read out to him about his horoscope. He never was one to take that in a serious manner, quite frankly not knowing a lot about astrology at all. But he took it as a sign since you specifically were the one reading it out to him.

Finding himself sketching small drawings of stars and the reflection of the sky on the water, unable to help but momentarily flick his eyes up to the front counter every so often, where you would often be found standing.

He watched the way you asked a man about the book he was reading, the way the customer was so excited to share it with you. You had that effect on a lot of patrons, he noticed. You made them feel comfortable and welcomed in the little café.

With his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered even when you weren’t directly interacting with him.

Continuing with your separate tasks in the café for the next hour or so, as Harry didn’t want to bug you when a small line up never seemed to go away.

Walking up to the front after that line up finally did subside, empty glass in hand that he placed in the dirty dish bin, before he peered around the café as he couldn’t see you.

He finally did find you in the back room, one leg bent and knee resting on the stool. In one hand you had your phone held in front of you, attention drawn towards it. In your other hand you were holding a few orange slices, mindlessly chewing on them.

After watching you for a second longer, he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb any peace you had settled into.

You blinked while you turned your head, a slice of mandarin orange just placed into your mouth as you put your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Oh, hey sorry,” you placed your foot on the ground, orange on the table as you walked over to the doorframe. He could smell the orange on you as you neared him. “Just taking advantage of the lull.”

“No of course, didn’t mean to bug you –”

“– just wanted to ask,” he paused, leaning his hip against the wall next to him. He was only slightly intruding in on the space that was technically just for the workers, watching as you rested you back against the doorframe behind you with a few mandarin orange slices still in hand. “Are you doing anything Wednesday night?”

It was your turn to pause, eyes leaving his for a second as you chewed on your orange slice. “I close – otherwise I don’t think so, why?”

“There’s an opening show, my friend has a whole series in it. It’s at the same gallery that we work at sometimes, it’s just a tiny show but – well I’d love it if you came with me.”

Your eyes fell to his again. He could see a smile starting to grow on your mouth, corner of your lip between teeth. “What time is it at?”

“Starts at eight, but it goes until eleven. You don’t need to be there right at eight.”

You nodded, and although he felt like you were dragging this out a bit on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel a small pit of nerves grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” you hummed, voice quiet as your eyes darted over to the front counter to check for customers. “I’m usually done around quarter past seven – I can probably head over for eight-thirty? Give or take, depending on where it is.”

He knew he was smiling so wide that his cheeks were dimpling. “So, you can come?”

“I’d love to,” you returned his smile.

“Amazing,” the butterflies in his stomach flew away. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”

He watched you pat your back pocket, not finding the red pen that was usually placed there. Taking a second to check the back room, reappearing with a little scrap of paper and a pen.

He scribbled down the information you need, watching you fold up the little piece of paper and place it in your back pocket along with the pen.

“I have to head over a bit earlier, moral support and all, but I can meet you there?” Harry asked.

“Sounds good,” you hummed, excitement growing at the idea of spending more time with Harry outside of the café.

“I have to head out soon,” he spoke, “but I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, lips together as he bid you a little goodbye. Just as you were debating about if you should hug him, or say anything else, a group came in waiting to be served. As always, you were interrupted by other patrons. “See you Wednesday!” 

The following two days flew by. That Wednesday evening, you were giddy as you closed, rushing through all your duties.

Closing with Saya took no time at all, and soon you were walking with a fast pace in your step to head back home. You knew you actually had plenty of time to get ready, but you were taking your sweet time and wanted the process to be relaxing rather than stressful.

You didn’t really know what one wore to a gallery opening. It was a small show; that was all Harry had really said. It’d probably be casual, so you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look too out of place.

After washing your face, you were throwing clothes around your room as you searched for what to change into. It was then you realized that Harry had only really seen you in clothes you wore to work. It wasn’t that you dressed poorly at work, in fact you liked to think you had quite a nice,  casual style, but you still felt like dressing up just a bit.

You finally settled on a dark navy dress that had orange seams embroidered up the sides and around the hem. It was the kind of dress that would look good on anyone, that fit and clung to every dip and slope of your body.

Grabbing a nearly sheer black blouse to throw over your shoulders, slipping on your trusty white sneakers, hoping that you were walking on the line between casual and formal.

With a little beaded bag over your shoulder with everything you’d need for the night, you checked the time once more before heading out the door.

It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would to make it out the door, and finally you were double checking the address on your phone before being met with the red sign over the gallery and the glass double doors.

Smiling at the man dressed in a bright red blazer who stamped your hand,  you walked through the open doored entrance. You immediately felt a tad out of place, seeing everyone chatting and talking and drinking and laughing – all together.

You let your eyes skim over the space, taking in the gallery. It was fairly large, considering Harry had described it as “just a tiny show”. The room was big and open, and there seemed to be another room that opened up around a curved wall.

Gaze jumping from person to person, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit out of place. Tentatively walking through the gallery, deciding to simply make your way around and hope to find Harry along the way.

It was when you were looking at a big dark painting, one that had different strokes of grays and browns across a large canvas, that a familiar voice spoke quietly to your left.

“Happy to see you made it.”

Turning around to see Harry, not realizing how close he had come up behind you. You had to take a little step back, the corner of your lips perking up as you saw his mouth already in a wide smile. He was wearing wide black trousers with a fitted simple black shirt, and orange converse sneakers.

���Sorry I’m late,” you spoke softly as he stood close to you.  “Had a bit of an outfit crisis.”

Not moving his feet, he leaned his body closer to yours until the sleeve of his shirt brushed your arm. His shoulder bumping yours, he slid a hand around your waist so that it rested on the small of your back.

With a light pressure against your dress, he drew you in closer so your side was pressed against his. Feeling a puff of air as he exhaled hit the side of your neck, his head lightly dipped down until his lips neared your ear.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. You shivered under his touch, even in his warm embrace. Eyes darting around you, feeling a bit lost just in the moment the both of you had shared. You felt a quick kiss pressed to your temple, before his face retreated from yours.

You could feel heat spread across your chest along with a little flutter in your stomach that somehow made you even warmer. Momentarily not knowing what to say, you faced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered over the fabric of your dress for a moment longer, before it fell to his side along with a little step away from you. Although with your shoulder still against his, you remained close to him as you both turned back to the painting that you had been observing.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry’s voice was low in your ear.

You opened your mouth, not really knowing how to tell him that you didn’t like it one bit. “It’s very… beige.”

“I agree,” he hummed. A touch of his fingertips on your arm pulled your eyes away from the art, arm jumping just the slightest at the contact. With a loose grip of his fingers around your wrist, he was soon tugging you by the arm across the floor of the gallery. “I’ll show you the good stuff,” he said, keeping his voice low.

He pulled you around the curved corner, into the second part of the gallery. You immediately noticed the lights on this side were a bit dimmer, a warmer glow to them rather than a harsher white light.

“All these in here are done by my friend, Yanis.” He hummed, stopping in front of one of the large paintings on the wall with a light drop of your arm from his hand.

“I helped out with a few, but really it's all him.”

“You helped out with some?” You turned to catch a glance at Harry.

He nodded. “Here and there – nothing that big. He just needed a hand.”

“That’s sweet,” you hummed. You liked that, them helping each other out with their paintings. It was just all so uplifting and supportive.

Just as Harry’s mouth opened to speak, his name was called by a deep and unfamiliar voice to you. You both turned, seeing a shorter man with black curly hair in a bun approach the both of you.

“We were just talking about you,” the man spoke towards Harry, his eyes pausing on you for a moment before he turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Your name left Harry’s lips – introducing you to his friend.

“I’m Yanis. So, you’re the famous barista Harry’s been telling me about?”

You smiled at his words, eyes flicking to where Harry stood next to you and watched the pink tint the tip of his ears. “Famous?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Only famous one here is you, Yanis. The show looks like a big hit.”

You didn’t miss how quickly he changed the subject, but you turned back to Yanis. “It really does look incredible. I haven’t seen everything yet but I already like what I see.”

You mentally cringed, still feeling like a bit of an idiot whenever you tired to compliment art. You really needed to learn the right things to say.

Just as you were about to try and say something else, two more people joined Harry’s friend on either side of him.

“There you are!” A tall dark-haired woman spoke towards Harry. She was wearing a red shirt that matched her long skirt, with platform shoes and an array of necklaces. “I was worried you had left.”

“Just showing my friend around,” Harry spoke your name smoothly. You didn’t dwell on the way he had called you his friend, but it also didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” she turned her attention to you, while Yanis and the other man seemed to begin a new conversation. “Sorry, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled in her direction. You saw her give your appearance a quick once over, and you especially saw the way her full attention turned back to Harry.

“Everything looks so great,” she spoke towards him.

“It’s all this guy.” Harry let his hand fall onto his friend's shoulder, giving it a little pat. “We were just starting to look around actually, so I’ll catch up with you lot in a bit.”

In a quick move, Harry’s hand was brushing against your lower back, and he was guiding you towards the wall on the opposite end. You felt his fingers bunch lightly in the thin fabric of your blouse, side pressing lightly against yours.

“Sorry –” he muttered, leaning a bit closer to you as the both of you stopped in front of a painting across from where you had been previously standing. There was a sea of red and pink mountains, along with a bright blue skin and big yellow sun. “Knew we could get stuck there for a while – wanted you to see everything first.”

You only hummed in response, a small nod in your head as you kept your eyes forward. Although you did find yourself so drawn to the art on the wall, you couldn’t help but let your mind spin and spin around until the words were falling from your mouth.

“Rory,” you murmured, bottom lip between your teeth, “she has a thing for you, no?”

You could hear Harry pause from next to you, “I – yeah. Well, no – we used to date.”

Only nodding, you kept your eyes forward although you knew Harry was burning holes into the side of your face.

“We still kind of run in the same circle – it ended a long time ago I didn’t –”

He stopped rambling when you turned to face him. “It’s okay,” you forced a little laugh to your voice. “I was just wondering.”

Harry fell quiet again, as you turned back to the paintings on the wall in front of you. “I’m really happy you came with me,” he whispered, lips nearing your ear after a moment. “I’m really happy you’re here.” 

You turned your head around, glancing at him over your shoulder. He didn’t move away from you, hand on your back giving your hip a little squeeze before slipping away from your body. He hit your hand with his, letting his hand fall to his side.

The words he spoke were swimming through your head, having you bite your lips together to fight off a wide smile. Just the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Okay,” you whispered, lips clamped together as you turned back around.

You spent the next few hours walking around, looking at everything, chatting with Harry’s friends. You had gotten along well with Yanis, he had talked at length about the series that was being exhibited and you were honestly in awe of everyone’s talent and creativity.

It was about half past ten and you were just heading back from a quick trip to the restroom, when your name being spoken had you looking around to see who it was.

Rory was slightly towering over you as she neared you, speaking your name again to grab your attention. “Haven’t gotten the chance to chat with you, how are you liking the show?”

Trying your best to hide the shock from your face, you sent her a smile as she stopped next to you. “I really like it – haven’t been to too many shows if I’m being honest, but this is for sure one of the best I’ve been too.”

“Yeah, Yanis really did amazing with everything – Harry too.”

You only nodded, not too sure what to respond in the moment. She kept speaking. “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

The question took you a bit by surprise, but at the same time didn’t shock you all that much. “Oh, we’re not –”

You cut yourself off, and she took the moment to speak again. “Sorry I don’t mean to put you on the spot, we’re all just a bit nosy about Harry’s life sometimes.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed slightly on her. “It’s no problem,” you shot her a small smile.

“Do you make art as well?” She changed the subject.

“No,” you caught Harry’s eye from across the floor of the gallery, “God no, I can barely take a decent picture. What about you?”

“Oh, sorry I just kind of assumed! But yes, I have my own practice. Mostly installation, plus some two-dimensional work as well as some performances here and there.”

Again, you wished you fully understood everything that was being discussed. “That’s so cool,” was all you said.

“Thank you,” she smiled down at you. “What do you do for work?”

“I uhm –” feeling somehow small for the words you were about to speak and a small pit of anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. “I work in a café.”

“She manages a café,” Harry’s voice surprised you slightly as it was suddenly heard from next to you. You turned, seeing him take a few more steps towards you and stopped when he was right next to you, facing Rory.

He was surprised to see the two of you speaking in the first place, a maybe the slightest bit worried when he saw the way you were slightly recoiling away from her.

“Oh nice!” She seemed a bit surprised from Harry’s arrival as well. “Sorry,” she paused, her eyes flitting over to somewhere behind you. “I just saw a friend I wanted to chat with before she leaves – it was nice meeting you!”

And then she was off.

You were quiet for a second, as you felt Harry’s hand brush over your middle. You barely registered the movement, bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a bit lost in your head – just the slightest offput from the conversation you had just had.

“Are you enjoying yourself?"

Harry’s voice pulled your attention away from your thoughts, shooting him a quick glance as his words registered. You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw his eyes never leave yours. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You fully turned to face him, standing in front of him. He saw your gaze flick between his, curious look in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he paused. Unable to help his eyes from falling down to your mouth, he watched the way the lightly shining lips were curved in a smile. “I just remembered something I read in a horoscope. And I was thinking … fancy a star-gazing stroll?”

It was your turn to pause, fully turning on your feet until you were standing directly in front of him. He could tell that you were trying to keep the smile from growing on your lips, but the gleam in your eyes immediately gave you away.

“I think I read something about that somewhere too,” was all you said, speaking quietly enough for just the two of you. The teasing tone of your voice, paired with the way your eyes seemed to glow more with every passing second sent a warmth straight through Harry’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out what could only be called a giggle. “Yeah, it is.” 

Harry didn’t try to hide his giddiness a single bit and sent a short nod towards you before he was again leading you through the gallery. With a quick stop by Yanis to give him a hug and congratulate him, and a wave on your part before he was pulling you out of the gallery.

He was a few steps in front of you, holding the glass door open as you stepped out next to him. This time, he didn’t try and hide the way his eyes fell to eye your outfit, eyelids dropping slightly with a smirk on his lips.

“Christ,” he muttered, joining you by your side. He watched the way you obviously noticed his stare, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “You really do look stunning.”

“You already said that,” you hummed. 

“Needed to be said again,” he couldn’t help but brush his fingertips over the raised orange embroidery that went up your side. “Also, I don’t know if you noticed sunshine, but we match.”

Sunshine.

You glanced down his outfit from the corner of your eye. The dark hues of both outfits along with a splash of orange looked like you guys had almost planned it. “I did notice, actually.”

“I think that’s quite sexy of us.”

You laughed, following Harry along the sidewalk.

The air outside had cooled down a bit, still warm enough that you were perfectly content in what you were wearing but not so hot that your skin felt sticky.

Harry led the way through the emptying streets, walking so close that it seemed every other step his hand hit yours. He really felt like he had been flirting with the idea of grabbing your hand for what, maybe a week now? He just wanted to grab you, hold you close.

Hell, he had been a lot closer to you than that before.

Walking through a darkened alleyway to take a quick short cut, you shuffled even closer to him. You kept your eyes focused on your surroundings out of habit, even if you were trusting where Harry was bringing you.

It was then that when his hand hit yours, it didn’t move away like it usually did and instead his pinky finger caught your own and soon he was lacing every last one of his fingertips with yours until your palms kissed.

Harry kept his gaze forward, but from the corner of his eye he saw you shoot your newly intertwined hands a quick look. While revelling in the way that your palm felt in his, and in the way that  every finger laced with his seemed to cause a tiny jolt to go  straight  through his body, he nearly missed the way you pulled yourself even closer into him.

By the time the water was invading your sight, after about fifteen minutes or so of walking in peaceful silence, Harry noticed the way you were walking so close to him your head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He basked in the way you seemed to draw into him as much as he did you, and the way that you urged to be close to him and feel yourself against him just as much. The thought itself sent a new wave of butterflies straight through his stomach, clouding his mind as his pace slowed near the water. 

Clearing his throat, he turned to catch a glance at you. “I remember you telling me how you like to walk along the river, but you didn’t get to do it that often.”

Smiling softly at the memory of the conversation the two of you shared after running into each other at the grocery store; you thought of that as the first time you really felt captivated by Harry.

“Is this kind of what you meant?” He asked.

You glanced around, seeing a wooden boardwalk start not too far off. “Not quite.”

Turning around and tugging him by the hand, following the expanse of the water until your shoes were walking over wooden boards that hovered above the river.

Your pace slowed even more, your hand fell from his grip as you glanced around and took in the sights around you. It was a relatively calm night out, no harsh winds upsetting the murky waters. The lights ended by the street, only a soft hue for the two of you as the boats docked out on the water were barely in sight.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out near you – then realizing that you had no idea what time it was, something that wasn’t often the case and something that you enjoyed a great deal.

The moon was high and bright in the sky, with the few stars that could be seen dusting the sky. It was for sure a star-gazing stroll, just as Harry promised.

“Looks like a painting,” you spoke from next to him, gaze out over the moving surface of the water.

Nearing the railing, the two of you took slow steps along the wooden boards. Harry laughed softly from next to you, the sound carrying in the empty space.

“Have you always been into painting?” You asked, eyes trained on the wood in front of you.

Harry hummed next to you. “I think so, yeah. I guess you could say I was drawn to the arts since I was young, I remember my mum bought me a little painting kit when I was like seven or eight.”

You nodded as he continued to speak. “Started a bit more seriously through school, like getting into techniques and stuff. But I never thought I would ever try and make a career out of it or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Harry paused, hand pushing through his hair. “I actually studied marketing for a bit, thought I would go into business or something like that.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped past your lips, surprised by the news. “I’m sorry but I can’t picture you as a business student.”

“Yeah,” his cheeks dimpled. “Neither can I. Left after nearly two years. Then I started taking a few painting courses at a local art store and I’ve been doing just that ever since.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “And your family they were – I mean you made everything work out for you?”

He nodded again. “Obviously I kept a job for a while, I was actually working at that little art shop for a few years too. My family was okay with it – my mum especially was always supportive. I remember when I told her I wanted to leave school to work on art she said she couldn’t imagine me doing anything else.”

“I love that,” you hummed, biting your lips together. A small part of you wished that you had that kind of unconditional support. But you kept your lips together and pushed the thoughts from your head, not wanting to bring down the mood.

“I send her some of my paintings; take them off the frame and roll them up for her. Her and my sister flew out and came to my first show over here – even though I only had two works in it.”

Mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for having correctly assumed Harry couldn’t have been an only child with the way he acted. You really did love when your hunch about someone was proven right.

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled at him. “You must miss them.”

“I do, yeah.” He hummed, catching your eyes with his for a second. “But I am glad to have moved out here. I felt like it could be temporary – I would love to live in London someday but I’m really happy to be here.”

Only nodding, you felt yourself getting lost in your own thoughts for a brief second before Harry pulled you back out of them. “What about you, you miss home much?”

Shrugging, you didn’t know what to say. “I mean a bit, in the way that anyone gets nostalgic. But,” you took a breath.

“I know this sounds terrible but honestly I don’t. It’s… exhausting to be home. I moved further away for school for a reason.”

You didn’t know what else to say, hoping that Harry would jump in with something else. You shot him a quick look, seeing his eyes intent on yours as he listened and waited for you too keep speaking.

“That’s not terrible,” he spoke quietly, after a few more seconds in silence.

You hummed, not sure what to say. Walking in silence for a few more moments and taking another breath before you chose to speak again. “My parents live hours away from each other now anyway, so I feel like there’s not really a home to go back to, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was soft.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy to have moved away – happy to be here too.”

Harry remained quiet, giving you the chance to go on if you wanted to. Although right now you really didn’t want to – you were having such a good evening and you didn’t want to bring any of that down by discussing your family.

Quietly walking side by side, with only the moon and the stars surrounding the both of you, Harry cleared his throat once more.

“So, what was it again that you like about this place?”

“Just the mood of it,” you shot him a glance. “Something about walking along the wood – I just really like it. And I like the smell too, I know it’s probably diesel and chemicals but it’s just oddly nostalgic for me for no real reason.”

“I see that,” Harry smiled. “So other than walking out here, what other small things make you happy?”

You were confused for a second, Harry further explaining himself after you didn’t answer.

“Just like, anything that could seem insignificant that you enjoy for whatever reason at all.”

“Oh,” you hummed, a small smile tugged at your lips at the question. You didn’t know why it made your heart soar that he was asking you about this – but it just did.

“This is really dumb,” you said after a moment. “But at work, I really like it when an older customer – they’re usually regulars – when they come in with their book and they get a coffee and a little cake or a treat and just sit there for hours.”

Pausing, not sure how to explain how you felt because right now it just sounded like any other interaction with a patron. “It's a happy-sad feeling – I don’t really know why. I love that coming into my café and having a chat with me is part of their routine, but there’s also something that just makes me feel the tiniest bit sad…”

Harry remained silent, letting you explain yourself. “It’s like, sometimes you watch a movie that has a happy ending, but you can’t help but feel the slightest bit melancholic, you know?”

Your eyes darted over to him, seeing him nod. “I know the feeling, yeah.”

Harry had never really thought about that before, never paying too close attention to the other patrons when he frequented your café. “You pay close attention to a lot of regulars, huh? I thought I was special.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as your shoulder bumped his.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” you teased, feeling his pace slow down, deciding to stop where you were.  You leant up against the railing that  kept you from the water.

“What about you?” You turned to him. “I know you said you didn’t want to share much about the paintings you're working on currently, but what’s something small that you like to pay attention to for your art?”

“I don’t want to bore you with every detail…” he started out, feeling like he had been speaking about his practice the entire time.

You shook your head. “I want to hear about your art – I like it.”

Harry slipped his lips between his teeth, head dipping down for a second as he felt his cheeks blush. “Well,” he started. “My current work is still very much in progress – not really ready for anyone to see or hear about it just yet.”

“But right now – or for the past year or so I’ve been really paying attention to moments between people.”

“Just … small touches or moments of intimacy, you know? Like seeing someone rest their head on someone else’s shoulder, seeing two people hug in a big crowd. Just small moments like that where you know that they’re in their own world.”

You were quiet, even after he was done speaking. Leaning your forearms against the wooden railing, feet kicking at nothing on the ground. You saw exactly what he explained – about the little touches of public, yet private, intimacy.

“I know what you mean,” you finally said, voice quiet as it carried over the space between the two of you. Harry has his back against the railing as he keeps his eyes on you.

After he realized you weren’t going to say anything else, he kept speaking. “It’s nice, you know? Seeing people wrapped up in their … love and adoration for each other like that.”

You hummed, his words swimming through your head. “Guess I never really thought about that –” cutting yourself off, before continuing even quieter, “– guess I haven’t really experienced it like that.”

Another wave of silence washed over you, before Harry turned in his place so that he could face you directly.

The reflection of the moon rippled in the water. “Have you ever been in love?”

His words caught you slightly off guard.

You had been in relationships, sure. You’d had partners tell you that they loved you, and maybe once or twice you returned the sentiment. But you didn’t really know what it meant.

“I –” you paused. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

You could just make out Harry’s expression. The lighting was sparse, but every little dip and curve on his features were clear as day, and his eyes held that little smile they often did.

“I know,” the words were too small puffs of air past your lips.

You held your breath in, before continuing. “I’ve always thought that I’d know, but I feel like I’ve never been in it in the way that you described. Not fully. I – I don’t know.”

The way he looked at you made your heart beat just a bit faster in your chest, so loud you were sure he must be able to hear it.

“It’s okay to not know,” he spoke so softly. You didn’t even realize you were leaning in closer to him until your knee bumped his.

“Have you?” You cleared your throat, the noise breaking through the otherwise quiet surrounding. “Have you ever been in love?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid of his answer.

“I think so, or,” Harry paused, a small furrow in his brow as his eyes were still intent on yours. “I thought so.”

This time, your heart stopped.

“Thought so?” Voice sounding a bit hoarse, you again found yourself afraid of his answer.

There was a small shrug in his shoulders. You couldn’t help but briefly think about Rory, about whether he was ever in love with her, but you shook the thought from your head.

“I guess… I guess I’ve been heartbroken before. I’ve loved, for sure. But I don’t know if I was really in love. If that makes sense.”

Maybe he really was just as confused as you were.

“I guess you don’t know until you’re really in it.” He had his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I guess you don’t,” you repeated.

What Harry wanted to tell you, was that he had never felt the way he did when he was with you.

He also didn’t know how to tell you – he really felt like he didn’t know anything at that moment either.

He was drawn to you from the first moment he had spoken to you, and found himself unable to ever get enough every time he saw you. It had been over a month and a half since he’d first walked into your café, since he’d first met you, and he couldn’t believe the way you made him swoon.

But he didn’t truly realize that, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

So instead, he reached forward so that his palm could rest under your jaw and stepped a tad closer to you. He saw you visibly leaning in to his touch, your eyelashes hitting the top of your cheeks for a brief moment with a slow blink.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he whispered, voice low as his knuckles brushed over your jaw.

You nearly sighed at his touch, butterflies in your stomach erupting once again when he spoke so softly. He always seemed to be able to grab such a strong hold on you – both physically and metaphorically – but all while treating you with the gentlest of touches. “Of course.”

“I really,” he paused with his own sigh. Hand on your jaw sliding over your skin, grabbing a light hold at the back of your neck. “I really like spending time with you like this.”

Only able to nod, almost having to look away from his intense gaze. There was nothing else to look at though, nothing else you wanted to look at. 

“Me too.” The words were barely there, just a pass of air from the back of your throat.

You felt his other hand smooth over your spine, fingertips finding your waist as he seemed to be blindly tracing the raised orange embroidery on your dress. Further leaning into his touch, you knew your eyes were darting all around his face as you were unable to focus on just one thing.

His own eyes fell down once more to the curve of your lips, and you felt them fall parted with your tongue wetting them on instinct.

“Can I kiss you?”

Nearly wanting to giggle at the question, as he had done much more than kiss you in the past week, and since the question seemed to be just a little late, but a laugh was the last thing on your mind right then.

All you could do was nod in his grasp, your eyes never leaving his – not for one single second. After a heavy swallow and a raspy little “yes” leaving your mouth, you let your hands fall to his shoulders to embrace him closer.

He pulled you closer in a quick motion, hand on your back holding you tight. Your chest fell against his, head remaining upright with his thumb still under your jaw.

Lips pressing against yours lightly at first, like whispers of a kiss against your mouth. He pecked two, three, four kisses on your lips like that before you edged your jaw forward and let him fully capture your mouth.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears when he fully pressed his lips against yours, with just enough pressure and desire to make your head spin. A little gasp escaped the back of your throat when he grabbed hold of your bottom lip between his, a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Lips parted together, never able to get enough of the way he felt against you. Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. He grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him. Hot breath mixing together, he pushed your back against the railing behind you just a bit more so that his hips could press with yours.

His hand on your back had migrated, dancing over the curve of your bum before sliding around and giving your hip a sharp squeeze. It never rested in one place, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your body against his.

You returned his fervour, one hand smoothing over his neck until your fingertips were being pushed through his hair. Fist closing as you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a little groan from Harry before he was licking into you once more.

Minutes passed, you had no idea how long the two of you spent like that under the stars and the moon.

He pulled away, barely, for a breath with heavy eyelids trained on you. His forehead was a millimetre away, loose curls brushing over your skin and tip of his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I,” he sighed, voice sounding so close to you as your eyelids just barely opened. “I – you’re unreal.”

His voice rasped slightly, as if he had just been woken up. The way he murmured  quietly against you had your head spinning, thinking about how he would sound moaning your name. 

Just as he was moving in to capture your lips with his one more time, a quiet buzzing was heard from somewhere. It took you a moment to register that it was your phone that was sitting in your purse.

“I think that’s yours,” Harry chuckled quietly, air hitting your lips as he spoke.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry,” you pulled your arms away from him, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your bag. Pulling your phone out, you saw your brother's name flash across the screen.

You knew you should answer it, but you didn’t want to and he had already interrupted you. Declining the call with a text, telling him you couldn’t talk right now, you placed your phone back into your bag.

“Sorry about that,” you hummed, gazing back up at Harry.

“It’s not a problem,” he grinned down at you, a hand still wrapped around your waist. “It is getting late though, let me get you home, yeah?”

Waking up to a ringing phone wasn’t ideal. Especially early on your day off.

At first you thought it was your alarm, and you tried to snooze it. And then when it started ringing again, you slowly blinked yourself out of sleep to squint at the phone screen.

Realizing it was a call, realizing it was a call from your boss at seven in the morning, you sprang up.

“Hello?”

She spoke your name, seemingly relieved to hear you answering the phone. “I’m so sorry to be calling you, I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was groggy. “What’s up?”

“No one’s at the shop right now – no one’s opened.”

You jumped out of bed this time, double checking the clock on your phone to see it five minutes past seven. “What?!”

“I happened to check the cameras this morning, and no one is there. Do you think you could head over there to open?”

You let out a sigh, hearing the desperation in her voice. She was away at the moment, otherwise you knew she would do it herself. It was also lucky that she could check the security cameras from her phone, something you knew she did very rarely.

“It would just be for a bit; I can get a hold of someone else to finish off the rest of the shift.”

“Yeah I can go over,” you were already looking for your pants. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much,” she rushed through the phone. “Noah was supposed to open today I think, right? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him but not luck so far.”

After getting off the phone with your boss, you quickly pulled on jeans and a bra, a baggy shirt over the rest of your body before jumping to the washroom.

There had been moments where you had to get ready in a rush before, of course you had, it happened to everyone to sleep past their alarm. But the magic of the opening shift is that even if you were late to the beginning of the shift, it was always possible to get there before the café actually opened.

Today you didn’t have that pleasure, you would likely be arriving after half past seven at the earliest.

Mentally cursing Noah, you tried to the best with your hair you possibly could and roughly rubbed in some moisturizer into your skin before you were running out the door.

After a not so elegant speed walk down the street, you were unlocking the café doors and unfortunately leaving the door propped open for anyone to walk in.

And to your displeasure, people did walk in. You had a grumbling regular who was mad he couldn’t come in bright and early, you had a big family grabbing an early breakfast, you just had too many people asking you for things all while trying to open the café.

It was only after an hour that things settled a bit, that you were able to catch a breather and actually grab yourself a glass of water.

You were sat on the little stool in the back room, keeping your eye on the front counter in case anyone showed up. Updating Grace, your boss and owner of the café, on how everything was fine on your end and that you still hadn’t heard a peep from Noah who was the one supposed to open today.

It was just as you sent him one more text, that your name was heard from a familiar voice. You saw Harry poking his head through the doorway, both of your expressions mirroring the others in your surprise.

“Hey,” you sighed, running a hand over your hair, knowing you looked a bit a mess. Standing from the stool, you walked the short distance to the doorway as you leant up against it with your glass in hand.

“I thought you were off today?” He grinned dimples showing on his cheeks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just – didn’t expect it is all.”

“I am,” you couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in your tone. “No one came in to open this morning – I got called in.”

You saw his eyebrows fall to a small furrow. “Oh fuck. How does that happen, no one opening?”

Only shrugging your shoulders, you took another sip of your water. You couldn’t help but gently shut your eyes, feeling your exhaust slowly overcome you.

“I don’t know. Can’t get a hold of the person who was supposed to open. I mean I’m assuming that they’re just still sleeping or something.”

“That’s shitty, and on your day off too.”

“It’s okay,” you shot him a small smile. “At least I don’t have to work the full shift today, just opening and I should be off soon, someone else is coming in to finish the shift. Did you want to get a coffee?”

“Uhm – if you were taking a little break its okay, I don’t need to –”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Stop that, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“Just to go for today,” he spoke, as you were tamping the espresso grounds. Nodding as you grabbed a paper to go cup, placing it under the portafilter and pressing the button to begin the slow and steady pour of espresso.

“What do you have going on today?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the passing seconds of the espresso pour.

“I’m actually headed over to Yanis’ place – a few of us are working on a collaboration piece together.”

“That’s so cool,” you smiled, sliding the to-go cup over to him as he grabbed a lid from where they were on the counter.

“What about you?” He returned your grin. “Get some sleep after this impromptu morning shift and before another week of work?”

“Oh, I’m actually going to be off for the next week or so,” you spoke absentmindedly. “My brother is coming to stay with me.”

“That’ll be good,” Harry mused from across you, having never heard you speak about your brother.

You only sighed, his words not really registering. “I guess.”

Not wanting to think too much about the week you were going to have to spend with your brother, you cleaned out the portafilter and tried to change the subject. “What are you working on with everyone?”

Harry was quiet for a second, eyes intent on you before he cleared his throat and answered. “It's all Yanis’ idea – he wanted a big collaboration but really, he’s the brains behind everything. We’re just starting today so honestly I’m not really sure what will come of it.”

“That sounds like it’s gonna be good,” you grinned.

“I hope so –” he paused, checking his phone, “sorry I have to head out. But I hope your day gets better and I’ll see you soon!”

You waved as he left, only a few more minutes into you were able to leave the café.

You physically felt your shoulders drop when you saw Aleena walk through the door. She had been scheduled to work today already, just coming in a bit earlier to give you a big helping hand.

“Thank you so much,” was the first thing you said when you saw her. “You are the absolute best. I promise I’ll buy you a drink, or dinner.”

She laughed. “No need for that, really. Should be Noah buying both of us dinner.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head. “He really should be.”

She clocked in, and you waited a second before speaking again. “Is it okay if I head out now? I can stay and help if you need me to but –”

She cut you off. “Go, go. I know you have to go get your brother later today, and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now.”

You could kiss her. “Really, thank you so much.”

You were rushing out of the café after grabbing your bag. You wanted to shower as soon as you got home, hopefully having the time for a little nap before you had to go over to the airport to greet your brother.

Just as you were turning the corner away from the café, a familiar outfit across the street caught your attention. You recognized Harry, nearly amused to see him still so close to the café. Your pace slowed down slightly, you were considering catching his attention or maybe just yelling his name across the street as you didn’t really have time to stop and chat once again.

Although any idea you had fell out of your head when you saw two more people with him, getting a better view of them as you walked along your side of the street. You recognized one of those people to be Yanis, and after a small squint you realized who the other person was.

You kept walking, eyes flitting over to the group across the street a few more times before you turned another corner and away from them. You knew you had no reason to be upset, or not upset, annoyed that Harry was spending time with his ex.

He had mentioned that they both still ran in the same circles, but you didn’t imagine that meant hanging out just on the daily. Or maybe not the daily, in fact you had no idea how often they spent time together. He had never mentioned her to you before, and you tried not to feel overly annoyed because you knew you had no real right to.

This just wasn’t coming out to be a very good day for you.

Trying to push everything about Harry and Rory out of your mind, you rushed the rest of the way home as you were slightly dreading the fact that in a few hours you were going to have to head over and greet your brother at the airport.

The first day with your brother was okay.

You were never that close growing up, for no particular reason. It wasn’t until you grew older that you realized you wished you had a better relationship with him, that you wished you could be like those siblings on TV.

He tormented you, in the way that older brothers usually did, but there was never a good side to your relationship with him. It got to a point where you began to realize that you nearly resented people for how close they were with their siblings.

Ever since your parent’s divorce, the two of you somehow grew closer and further apart. Closer in the sense that now it truly was the two of you against them, but further apart because your lives were in such different places.

He always knew  what he wanted to do in life, and he was currently doing well for himself. He had gotten married already, and was living in a nice apartment that was also close to both your parents, much closer than you were.

He was going to be spending three days with you, his idea. You knew it would be bad to say no, knowing deep down that you needed to maintain a relationship with him. You loved him – he was your brother but you didn’t necessarily want to spend three days with him.

You always came out of any interaction – even a phone call with him – exhausted and anxious about the state your life was in.

Since you were going to be taking some time off anyway, you decided to give yourself an extra two days off just so you can have some time for yourself and didn’t need to jump right back into work.

“How’s Sophie?” You asked your brother about his wife, as you unpacked some groceries you got after meeting him at the airport. They had gotten married nearly two years ago.

“We’re good, she’s good,” he seemed to pause, sitting in your recently deep cleaned kitchen.

“Yeah?” You probed further, noticing his sudden hesitation.

“She’s actually – she’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the knife you had just grabbed. “What?”

He nodded. “She’s due next March. We’re really excited.”

“Oh my God –” you muttered, still in the headspace where when you heard when you heard the word ‘pregnant’ it was usually followed by anxiety not joy, even if some of your friends from college had kids of their own as well.

“Congratulations,” you snapped out of it. “That’s – that’s great! Congratulations, I’m sure she’s really happy.”

“Yeah, she is. We both are.”

“That’s great,” you repeated, turning back around and busying yourself with starting to prepare dinner.

He was quiet for a second. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?”

You very rarely shared details of your personal life with your brother, unless specifically asked. And even then, it was all very vague.

“Uhm,” you didn’t know why you were pausing; you knew your answer. The question was simple, the answer was just as simple – but for some reason the reality seemed much more complicated.

But you really didn’t want to talk about that now, especially not with your brother. “No, not really.”

You only heard him hum from behind you, before he spoke again. “Oh. You know I was talking with mom – you know she was younger than you when she had me.”

Christ.

“I know,” you only muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset over his words.

“All I’m saying,” he could likely sense your annoyance. “Is that I know you’re having fun out here in the city and whatever, but you’re nearly thirty.”

You spun around, unable to hide your anger. “I’m not nearly thirty. I’m in my mid-twenties – and even if I was, so what? There’s no timeline I need to be following.”

“I’m just saying” he put up his hands in defense, as if you had been attacking him unprovoked.

You had to tell yourself to not continue down this path, he wouldn’t budge in what he was saying. “How’s work going?” He said instead.

Again, something else you didn’t feel too keen on discussing with him. “Fine.”

“If you wanted to get your foot into something else, I can probably help you with something at my company.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Seriously – even in the New York office I could help you out. You’d probably need to intern first –”

“I said it was fine,” you cut him off, feeling worn. “Thank you, but I’m okay with what I’m doing.”

Again, he only put his hands up as if he was doing nothing wrong. You willed yourself to not feel too angry over it, knowing that you were already mentally tired and if you kept speaking with him about this you might start crying – something he’d only use against you.

After a few much needed topic changes, dinner was ready and you were playing a show the both of you used to enjoy when you were in secondary school. You didn’t go to bed very late, making his bed on the couch before you headed off to sleep as well.

Only two more days, you told yourself. It would be fine – it was your brother and everything was going to be fine.

Settling yourself into bed, phone in hand as you tentatively typed in Harry’s username into Instagram. You found it quickly, seeing him having no new posts since the time you and Mae had looked over his page. Although, there was a little circle around his icon showing that he had a story.

Curiosity getting the best of you, knowing full well your own username would show up if he were to check who was looking at his story, you tapped on the icon.

Holding your thumb down on the single picture eyeing over the three accounts that were tagged in the story.

You paused when you read over a username that contained the name ‘Rory’.

So he had been spending the day with her.

You tapped on her username, watching the app take you to her account. It was a public page, with a pretty hefty following. You scrolled through rows of images, tapping on a few here and there to further inspect the posts. Most were about her art, some pictures of herself and her friends here and there but nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something woman.

Holy shit. You were about two years deep on her account, seeing pictures from a show she had in Berlin. You couldn’t help feel the slightest bit impressed.

Going over to her tagged photos, you scrolled a bit seeing mostly photos with friends and a few of what you figured were her art works.

The one that caught your eye, though, was a painting that seemed familiar to you for some reason.

Going over to the image, you realized why there was an air of familiarity to it. The picture was from Harry’s Instagram, a painting he had done of her back in early 2018.

His style had seemingly slightly evolved since then, but it was still very much him. The painting was of the side of her face, the setting around her not very defined so all the focus was on her profile. She was looking away, the side of her face painted in hues of gold and yellow that blended into her dark hair.

Green and yellow surrounded her, like she was outside during a sunset – it was a beautiful painting of her. The caption read “inspiration”.

You shrank back into bed.

The post was about two and a half years ago, it was in the past and you shouldn’t be overthinking it. But you felt small in comparison.

She had clearly been his muse, of some kind and the fact that he was still spending time with her just was sitting right with you.

You knew, a huge part of you knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You tried to think back to all the stomach fluttering and weak-kneed kisses he had given you, the way that every touch of his skin on yours felt so right.

You thought back to the other night, the nearly romantic conversation you had shared before he kissed any anxiety or fear out of you.

But still, a smaller but louder part of you was telling you that it didn’t mean as much as you originally thought it did.

The day seemed to be one thing after another, and just as you were about to shut off your phone and try not to cry because you knew it’d make you feel silly, your phone buzzed with a text.

Again, this day was just one thing after another. It was Grace, your boss, asking you to cover Noah’s shift tomorrow. He had taken the weekend off last minute, and his 9-3 tomorrow couldn’t be covered by anyone else.

Typing back an annoyed ‘yes’, this time you couldn’t help but feel truly upset. You were exhausted from work, honestly. You knew you would still have some time off, and Grace was so kind to you, but you were just. Tired. 

[icedcappujaeno]

kingdom come | three

Jaehyun remembers you, and he hopes that you remember him as well.

genre: mafia!au | fluff | angst | smut

pair: Jaehyun & reader

warnings: language, sexual content, drugs, blood and violence, guns

↤ previous | series masterlist | next ↦

It’s Monday. When Jaehyun gets exactly on the office floor, he storms into Taeyong’s office. 

But he wasn’t there.

He hasn’t answered his calls since Friday. It was only his voice mail that answered. Jaehyun was beyond frustrated. He needs answers. His mind wasn’t at ease, causing his sleep schedule to fuck up even more. He was restless. 

He goes out of the empty office and calls out to Taeil, whose cubicle is nearest to Taeyong’s office. 

“Where the fuck is he?” Jaehyun asks with agitation.

“Ya,” Taeil spats. “Have you forgotten who’s older here, Jaehyun?” 

“I’m not in the mood for that Taeil Hyung,” Jaehyun hisses back. Taeil was about to land a fist on Jaehyun’s face when Taeyong calls his name. He strides in between the two men to stop the banter. 

“Taeyong Hyung,” Jaehyun practically grits through his teeth when he said his name. “I want to talk to you.”

Taeyong shrugs and checks his phone. 

“That’s kinda obvious with the 48 missed calls and almost 50 messages over the weekend, no, Jaehyun?” He lightly pats the younger’s shoulder but Jaehyun pries away from the touch. “Let’s go to my office.” 

---

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jaehyun knows that Taeyong thinks he’s crazy. Or at least going to that path. He relays what happened last Friday night as vividly as he can. Taeyong listens to his story—or at least he tries too. The obvious perplexity in his expression paints all over his face as Jaehyun repeats the story.

“Jaehyun. She’s  dead .”

Jaehyun’s face visibly hardens. His hands lay on his sides and curled them into a fist, tight enough to see the prominent veins on his knuckles.

“You mourned for her. You were there, watching over her funeral twenty-four-seven,” Taeyong continues, slapping Jaehyun with his words. 

“I didn’t check her casket—“

“You held her fucking hand when she was in the morgue—!!”

A punch lands on Taeyong’s face, and with Jaehyun’s hard blow he stumbles onto the chair behind him, propping his hand onto the rest for support. Blood drips from Taeyong’s nose as Jaehyun’s knuckles gash a scar on his cheek. Jaehyun is about to hit Taeyong with another when Johnny comes in, holding the younger back.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Doyoung yells, running over Taeyong’s side along with Jungwoo and Taeil to support him as he stands up. Everyone in the office seemed to notice the commotion so they all went inside.

Johnny holds onto Jaehyun with great force as he keeps on struggling. Yuta’s on the side, ready to support Johnny to keep Jaehyun in his hold.

“Jung Jaehyun, you are fucking done for,” Taeyong grits through his teeth as he wipes the blood from his nose. Doyoung clutches onto Taeyong’s arm to prevent his future actions, but Taeyong exhales heavily and releases Doyoung’s grip from him. Doyoung is about to react when Taeyong puts his hands inside his pants’ pockets.

“Go home. Don’t go to work unless you’re in the right mind already.”

Everyone seems to be shocked by Taeyong’s decision, even Jaehyun. 

“I don’t think—“ Taeil interjects, but Doyoung speaks up.

“It’s for the better, I think,” he says as he looks at Jaehyun. Johnny feels Jaehyun’s body relax a bit, thus loosens his hold onto him. His breathing still heaves heavily though, so his arms were not completely off the younger’s body.

“Jaehyun, I think it’s a good idea,” Doyoung quips, still looking at Jaehyun with pure sincerity. “I don’t know what you guys talked about, but seeing you all vexed on Taeyong—I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go to work for the meantime.”

Doyoung is glad that Jaehyun listens despite his silence. He frees his body from Johnny’s hold. He’s still angry but Doyoung makes a lot of sense.

“I agree,” Taeil says, the one only having the balls to pat Jaehyun on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “I don’t think you’re on missions this month anyway. You need to at least cooldown.”

Jaehyun seems to come back to his senses and nods. He looks at Taeyong one ferociously one last time before storming out of the office, gathering his things away.

When he gets out, everyone looks at Taeyong. The leader raises a brow as he wipes his nose again, clearing any blood stains from Jaehyun’s hit.

“He sure hits hard. That’s why he’s on the combat offense team,” Taeyong jokes, but no one laughs. Jungwoo offers him a hanky and he accepts it.

“What happened, anyway?” Taeil asks.

Taeyong remains silent. Everyone was expecting a reply but he only says:

“Get back to work.”

---

It has been two and a half weeks since Jaehyun got suspended. 

Rose comes often, very much often. But Jaehyun still can’t grasp what happened days prior. He gets distracted from time to time, yet his thoughts come back to you. His co-workers still talk to him through messages, mostly asking how he’s keeping up and the changes they observed without Jaehyun in the office. He appreciates the gestures, but your face haunts him every time.

Jaehyun was a hundred percent sure it was you in the mart. Thus, he searches for you everywhere, even goes back to the same mart where he saw you. Touched you once again. But there were no traces that would lead up to you if you were alive and not a hallucination.

---

You meet him in his dreams. Or nightmares. In it, he sits on the couch of your previously shared apartment while watching Netflix. You call out his name as dinner is being served. He looks over, sees you smiling at him as you tell him that dinner’s ready.

He walks over to you, but when he touches your arm, you scream. 

The same scream he heard that night.

Jaehyun wakes up, breaths were heavy from the nightmare. He clutches the skin on his chest as he tries to calm down.

When he does, he grabs his phone and looks at the time. 

4:32 in the morning.

He sighs and runs his hand over his hair. Falling back asleep wasn’t an option as the very time he closes his eyes, you would come back. So instead he stands and heads to the bathroom for a quick wash and wears on his tracksuit, going out for an early morning jog.

---

6:30 in the morning.

Jaehyun sits on one of the benches of the park where he usually jogs laps. It was too early in the day that no one still loiters around, except for early joggers like him. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and scrolls down his Instagram as he rests. 

The orphanage where you first met was the first post he saw. Some familiar faces come into view, especially the children whom he helped before. Jaehyun smiles as his heart melt at the photo. He double-tapped on it and a thought suddenly came to mind.

He smiles to no one in particular with the sudden idea, but he feels light and happy—genuinely for the first time in weeks.

He turns the music on and texted Rose that he'll be busy for the weekend, before putting his phone back in his pockets, finishing his remaining laps before going home.

---

“I haven’t seen you in years!”

The old lady who grew fond of Jaehyun hugs him on sight, even though he’s carrying a box full of goods. Jaehyun chuckles, missing the affection and warmth of the place. It has been years since he last visited; he thought that the painful memories would come back as soon as he sees the orphanage’s driveway. He was wrong, as it felt refreshing: happy memories flood his mind as he remembers you and your legacy.

“I miss you too, Halmeoni.” 

She lets him go and instructs him to put down the box on a table. He follows and unboxes the goods he brought: mostly shoes and clothes for the younglings. The older woman was ecstatic, with every piece Jaehyun brings out, she would say that it would fit this child or that kid’s name. The smile on Jaehyun’s lips never fades; it has been really, years since he felt this way.

Another car drives into the parking and Halmeoni excuses herself. Jaehyun politely nods and continues to unbox the clothes and shoes, each movement of his hands reminded him of you: how yours would bump into his, every fits of giggles every time he sneaks a tickle to your side. 

A tug at his shirt breaks his reverie, and he looks down to the eyes of a young man tall as his hips. Jaehyun sits to meet his level. 

“Did you bring us presents?”

“I did,” Jaehyun laughs. 

“What did you bring?”

“I brought you shoes and some clothes,” he replies. The child smiles and tiptoes over the table to try and see the presents. 

“I want new shoes,” the child says. Jaehyun stands and ruffles his hair. 

“Okay, I’ll give you a pair. What’s your name?”

“Daejung,” he replies. Jaehyun gets a pair from his presents and shows it to him. 

“Do you want this one?” Daejung nods. Jaehyun sits to match Daejung’s height once more and puts the pair of shoes in front of him. Daejung removes his slippers and Jaehyun assists him in wearing one. He places his hand on Jaehyun’s head to support himself.

“Your hair is soft, hyung,” to which Jaehyun laughs.

“Yours is as well.”

“I’m sorry I just got back!” Halmeoni pants as she approaches Jaehyun and Daejung. She sees that Daejung has already worn a present from Jaehyun and sighs.

“You could have waited for the others,” Halmeoni scolds. Jaehyun is quick to defend saying that it’s okay. Daejung stands behind Jaehyun, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he hides away from Halmeoni’s lectures.

“Anyway,” Halmeoni waves her hand dismissively to drop the issue regarding Daejung’s excitement. “Sorry about that, but an old-time friend came to visit. Like you, it’s been a long time since she volunteered. I’m gonna tend to you both, she’s just packing her presents and will come here shortly.”

“No problem, Halmeoni,” Jaehyun replies.

The old woman peers over the woman who was quite struggling with two big paper hands hung on both arms while carrying a big box. Jaehyun follows Halmeoni’s gaze.

“I’ll help her.”

Just as Jaehyun said it, the woman tumbles over due to the weight of her carry. He jogs over her slumped figure, carrying her paper bags as well as the box, making it look easy within his hold. 

“Let me carry this for you.”

You stand and chuckle nervously, dusting off the dirt on your clothes. You put the stray strands of hair fallen messily onto your face away, behind your ears. When you look up with an embarrassed facade, you see unfamiliar eyes boring into yours.

Nevertheless, you paid no mind with the stare he’s giving you.

“Sorry. I thought I could carry them all in one go.”

It was seconds before he replied.

“[Y/N]?”

You blink.

“How...”

Jaehyun mirrors your confused expression.

“Do I know you?”

[generallybarzy]

hey there, stranger. iii

SERIES MASTERLIST. one, two

summary: it’s time for your second date with Mat! Everything seems like it’s happening so fast, but both of you have been hurt before, so there’s gonna be a little bit of hesitation when it comes to love… maybe you just need to slow it down a bit.

an: hey, i’m sad and stressed lately so here’s some softness! special thanks to my own 🥔 anon for always listening to me rant and helping me out!!!!!

word count: ~4k

If you thought you hit it off well with Mat on the first date, the best was still yet to come.

Ever since that first glance in the cafe to the first text he sent you, you felt there was something special about him. Something that made him different from your past dates. And you were right. He didn’t waste time after exchanging numbers to text you, and you appreciated that. There were no games played, no “maybe I should wait so I don’t seem too desperate”, none of that. You both wanted to spend more time with each other and you weren’t ashamed to admit it. And though you were both a little shy and nervous at first, it was easy. It was easy to talk to each other. You made each other so comfortable, your energies matched, and Mat could always tell when you had a bad day. He asked why you were acting off before you even realized yourself.

He had practice often, and as the hockey season came to a start, he started having games too, and that took up most of his time while studying took up yours. He’d text you whenever he could, though, and he loved to tell you all about his teammates. It was cute how much passion he had, you could already tell how much he loved the game, loved his team, his teammates. He truly loved them, the way he gushed about his friends, about Anders and Ebs, and Tito and many others, and it just made you care for him even more. And you couldn’t help but smile every time you woke up to a good morning text way before your nine a.m. classes and then a deflated “sorry, i have to get to practice now :(”

“Have fun, mat :)”

And, not that you’d know until much later, it always gave Mat butterflies.

Through the mess of his practice and games and your studying and babysitting, it was hard to find time to hang out again. For a while you were stuck in a loop of texting and sending cute snaps of yourselves to each other, but you were both wanting your days off to match up so you could see each other again. You were stuck in the weird phase of texting every chance you got, even though you’d only seen each other once. You were tired of the “How was your day?” Not that you didn’t appreciate it, but you wanted to be able to talk about something else. And while you wanted desperately to do more than text with him, a part of you was scared. Scared that if you started hanging out again, the connection wouldn’t be there. Scared that the spark isn't really there. Maybe it was the giddy first date nerves and the fact that he was cute. It was inevitable that there was going to be something wrong with this. Things were never perfect, were they?

Then, after over a month since you’d seen him in person last, it happened. The moment you both realized your schedules matched up again, he offered a date. He played it cool, flirty and sweet, as if he’d been running the lines over in his head for a month- he probably had.

handsome mat: “So, I know you moved to the city last year, and I know it’s crazy to move here all on your own. Has anyone really shown you around yet? Showed you their favorite places or recommended any restaurants?”

“Not really. Are you offering?"

handsome mat: “Well, I can’t have you getting lost, can I? Who would go out with me then?” You had turned red at that message and struggled for a bit to find a way to respond. Before you could get over the butterflies and come up with a coherent response, your phone chimed again. “How’s saturday sound?”

“Saturdays great :)”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of that week, all your friends in class commented on how giddy you’d been lately, and begged you to give up some information about this guy you’d been talking to. But you weren’t sure if you were there yet. Maybe it was too early to talk to your friends about him like you’d be keeping him around. You hoped that was the case, but it was better to be safe. You texted Rebecca and told her you wouldn’t be able to babysit this weekend, and she had immediately replied with “You have a date with Mat don’t you! :)”. She was quite proud to have been your matchmaker.

And when Saturday rolled around, you got a text from Mat before you were even awake. “Heading to practice, don’t forget about our date today. See you soon :)”

And you did see each other soon. Before you knew it, you were standing outside your dorm building, watching as Mat noticed you from the other side of the street, his eyebrows shooting up in recognition and a smile blooming onto his face. He had Adidas shoes, tight jeans and a dark hoodie with The Office logo on the chest, a hoodie that looked so big and warm you immediately wanted to steal it. He ran his fingers through his hair, which looked particularly fluffy and floppy today, and made butterflies erupt in your belly. You stood there for a bit too long as Mat tried to find a break in the traffic to speed over to you, but when he got to you, he giggled a little bit, that big dumb smile plastered onto his face.

“Hey. I made it.”

“You did.” There was a brief moment of shyness between the two of you, a moment of nervous ‘Should I hug you?’ but that was soon forgotten. You were happy just to be in his presence, and he was happy too. "’The Office’, huh?" You pointed to his hoodie and his eyes glanced down.

"Yeah? You like it?" He grinned as if he had struck gold. As if he was proud of his choice of clothes today just because you liked it. "Think it's something we could watch together then?"

Your face went hot at the thought of laying on the couch with Mat, cuddled close to his chest and feeling his body pressed against yours. The weight of him against you, the heat radiating from his body to yours. “Yeah, we can watch it together.”

“Nice.” He let out a breath, a little sigh of relief, and the idea that he was so excited to spend more time with you made your heart flutter. “So uhh.” He reached his hand out with a little shrug. “Should we go?” He was offering you his hand.

And, after a few seconds, you took it.

It was the same as the night you held hands in the uber. His hand was huge in comparison to yours. It was big and warm and incredibly soft for a hockey player and made you wonder if he was the type of man to really take care of himself. If he would be the type to have spa nights with you. Oh god, you hoped that was true. It was the same as the other night, the way butterflies were hard at work in both of your tummies, the way your hearts were deafeningly loud, and your smiles giddy and unable to be held back. But, it was different this time. Your hands weren’t cupped together like before, but, entwined, palm to palm, your fingers tangled together comfortably. His hand absolutely swallowed yours up, and it felt so perfect, so right, that in that moment it didn't matter what you labeled your relationship as-- if you were just dating, or exclusive- all you knew there was something about him. Something special.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He smiled down at you, squeezing your hand in his gently. “So, where do you wanna start? We could head up to the Park, walk around a bit, get some food, go shopping...”

“Any of that sounds amazing. Can I show you something first?”

“Lead the way.”

You planned on taking the subway up to Central Park and walking around there for a bit, but first, you intended to show Mat your favorite place to hang out between classes- only a short walk from your dorm building, was the best view you could find of the Brooklyn Bridge. The most Instagrammable place you knew of in the whole city, and you’d definitely posted a few too many photos here. You walked along the streets, hand in hand, and stopped as soon as you turned the corner and saw that view. You looked up at Mat, smiling, proudly showing off your favorite spot.

“Damn… that’s so cool.”

“Right?” It wasn’t really that intimate, it’s not like this was some hidden away nook of the city, there were people walking all around you right now, but it felt intimate to show Mat your favorite place. “You’ve been here longer than me, I feel like you should know the best places, not me.”

“Well, I don’t really hang out around this spot a bunch. That's probably why we’ve never run into each other.” He looked back up at the view in front of you and moved his hand to his pocket, and you had a sudden feeling of loss at the lack of hand in yours- what do I do with my hand when he’s not holding it? “Hold still.”

“What?” You turned around from your spot where you’d been gazing up at the Brooklyn Bridge to see Mat with his phone’s camera aimed towards you, a dumb smile on his face.

“I said hold still!” He whined, motioning for you to turn around again. “This is gonna be a nice picture.”

You turned for him, smiling and posing in front of the beautiful view. “So we take pictures of each other now?”

“Well, I need a profile picture for you on my phone. And it feels weird to screenshot one from Instagram, sooooo…”

“You looked through my Insta?”

“I mean… yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly acting bashful. “I mean… I just wanted to learn a little more about you, ya know? Is that weird? Haven’t you looked through mine?”

“I haven’t.” Not yet.

“Oh, well now I feel creepy…” he trailed off and lowered his phone. “Uh, sorry. This is weird. We don’t have to take a picture if you don’t want to.”

“Mat,” you reached for his hand, curling your fingers around his wrist. If he was ready for this, so were you. You wanted nothing more than to be together, to have physical proof on your phone that you had someone to hold now. “Only if I can take some of you.”

He grinned at your acceptance as he brought his phone back up to snap a few pictures. “There!” He seemed to relax, his shoulders falling into a gentle, content pose as he gazed at the pictures of you in his phone. And then he was beside you, flipping the camera on selfie mode and curling his arm around your waist, “This good?” You nodded, and he tilted his cheek down against the top of your head. You smiled immediately, feeling giddy just at actually seeing yourself and Mat together in the camera. Both your cheeks were flushed. You didn’t even realize when Mat took the picture, you were too busy staring at how cute the two of you looked together. How perfect you looked together.

Was he really going to be the one for you?

Mat gleamed at you in the mirror of his screen, and you were too caught up in the image of yourself smiling- it had been a long time since you smiled because of a relationship you were in- to remember to take a picture of him, too. He grabbed your hand once again, sliding the digits of his fingers between yours and cradling your hand in his, keeping you warm and cozy against his side in the late November chill. “Now let’s get up to the Park, yeah?”

You continued to hold Mat’s hand the rest of your adventure, while you were jumping onto the Subway and finding a space to stand together- Mat had insisted you hold onto him instead of the gross germ-infested Subway poles- and when the train jerked to a start and you gripped Mat’s side even tighter so you wouldn't go stumbling backward. You smiled together all the way up to Central Park, to all the little nooks and crannies of the city that could only be found by someone who’d been there a while already. He held your hand tight, pulling you along and getting laughter to bubble to your lips every time he pointed something out to you with that excited puppy-dog look in his eyes. You noticed elderly couples smiling at you on the street as you and Mat grabbed a bite to eat from a food truck and you realized how much like a couple you and Mat seemed already. Is that what you were? Were you two a couple already? Or were you stuck in that weird phase of dating but not quite exclusive? You really, really hoped it was exclusive, but you weren’t sure what Mat wanted. You weren't sure what he was used to, or expecting from this, and the lack of communication was killing you. How could you bring it up to him?

Later on, your little trip up to Central Park led you back down into Brooklyn, as Mat insisted you end the day with showing you his favorite places near his apartment. So you took the Subway all the way back down to his favorite spots in Brooklyn, the sun falling lower and lower by the minute. He had a smile on his face as he pointed out Barclays center with a proud “that’s where we play!”, and promised to take you to a game as soon as your schedule cleared up. He showed you around different museums and promised to spend another day there, but the sun was going down, and the two of you found yourselves sitting on a little bench in Prospects Park, not far from the cafe where you’d first met.

“Sooo,” Mat squeezed his arm around your shoulders and looked down at you with a gentle gaze. “Obviously, I’m not gonna post those pictures from earlier anywhere, okay? But… if it’s okay with you, can I show them to my friend? I won’t send them, I just wanna tell him about you. He’ll keep it private, I promise.”

Your stomach was going flips at the thought of Mat’s friends knowing about you, but you loved it. You loved slowly becoming integrated into his life, and couldn’t wait to tangle him in yours as well. “Sure, Mat,”

He grinned. “I’m so happy whenever I’m with you.”

You set your head on his shoulder, giggling a little bit at the feeling. “I’m happy with you, too.” The sun was beginning to go down, but you couldn’t enjoy the sunset like you wanted to. Instead, dark clouds were rolling in over the city.

“Oh shit.” Mat looked up, feeling a few suspicious raindrops, and pulled you to your feet, his hand in yours, as the rain started to come down gently and then harder and harder until it was practically pouring down on you. Mat pulled you aside into a small coffee shop, “Probably my favorite in the city”, he commented as he urged you to one of the corner tables. “I’ll go order some warm drinks, okay? Sit tight.” He came back in a few minutes, and as you sat back with each other, waiting for your order to be called, Mat sighed, gazing wistfully out the window to where it was pouring buckets. “Sorry, I should’ve probably checked the weather before deciding on this date."

"No, this is fine. I love the rain."

He smiled. "That's good to know." And then he was jumping up and stepping forward to grab your drinks as the barista called out his name. When he returned with both drinks in his hands, he smirked. "That’s good to know, cause I need to start learning what you like."

It only took a moment for you to recognize why he was giving you that cheeky look as he handed you your coffee. A cheeky little smirk as if he was waiting for something that you didn't know about. After your first sip of the drink Mat had ordered for you, you knew. "Oh my god, Mat!" He laughed and nodded to himself as if proud. It was the drink he had been reading the receipt for over and over when he was nervous in front of you on your first date. He had remembered, "You remembered my order?"

"How could I forget?"

"Wow…" you glanced at his own drink, trying to memorize his order. Black coffee, a hint of vanilla, a splash of almond milk… It made you smile, learning such a thing about him.

"How about we head outside?"

"I'd like that."

Outside, the rain was pouring down and the air had gone chilly. You regretted your choice of outfit when the wind blew through your thin sleeves and a shiver racked through your body.

"Are you cold?" You glanced up to meet Mat's gaze.

"I'll be fine."

"No." Before you could stop him, he was setting his drink behind him on the cafe’s windowsill and pulling his hoodie over his head. He messed up his hair in the process, and it was drooping onto his forehead as he held the black bundle of fabric out to you. “Here. I don’t want you to freeze.”

“Well, I don’t want you to freeze either.”

“(Y/N), put it on.” Before you could refuse again, he slipped it over your head himself. “C’mon babe. Let me help you.” Your heart pounded in your chest and you gave in to him, biting your lip at the sound of your new nickname. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone called you babe.

Mat’s couldn’t contain his smile at the sight of you in his hoodie: your cheeks pink and warm, your smile small and shy, gripping the much-too-long sleeves in your hands as you burrowed into his clothes. He couldn’t help but grin at the sight, and he was certain the cold wasn’t gonna bother him if he had this to look at all night, so he lifted an arm to tuck you into his side. You fit against him perfectly.

“So,” He leaned back against the wall of the building, pulling you along with him. You glanced up at him, your eyes looking breathtakingly adorable behind those lashes, fluttering up at him so innocently. You had no idea what you did to him. “So, what did you tell Rebecca you wanted in a guy for her to think to set us up?”

“I don’t know…..” Mat watched you with an awestruck expression as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking to the ground. You’re so beautiful... “I just mentioned being lonely. And that none of my dates were going well.”

He gave you a little half-smile. “Honestly, I’m glad your dates haven’t gone well. If they had, we wouldn’t have met.”

“Yeah.” You paused for a moment, glancing out into the rain and lifting your arm to curl around Mat’s waist.

Just right.

“I told her,” you continued, “I was just looking for someone genuine. Someone with a big heart, and a lot of passion for something.” Mat let out a little shy laugh, and the vibrations echoed from his chest into your body. He squeezed you against him and you squeezed his waist too. “You’re the most genuine person I’ve met in a long time. You seem like you really care, you’re interesting, you love what you do. You have a passion. I know you say “sorry for rambling” every time you talk about hockey, but it makes me so happy just to hear you enjoy something. You just give off this energy….. It’s perfect.” In a burst of confidence, your fingers gave a gentle squeeze to his side. “And I told her you have to be funny, too.”

“Yeah?” He tossed his head back and let little chirps of laughter fill the air as if he was amused with your standards. “Am I?”

“You are.”

“Good.”

In that moment, any hesitance you had about whether or not the spark was there or not was gone. You felt it, you were sure Mat felt it too. Now, you just had to act on it. “Did Rebecca tell you anything about me?”

“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, catching your gaze. “Only your name.” And then, with a smile, he pulled you closer. “And that we’re perfect for each other.”

There was little detail you had time to catch, but what you did, you would remember. His arm tight around your waist, his hand gentle and warm stroking your cheek, long fingers pushing back your hair, his pretty hazel eyes slipping shut as he leaned down. The rain falling down around you became deafening in your ears as he leaned in, as his lips came closer and closer to you, curled up at the ends in a little smile. Your heart sped up. He was going to kiss you.

And you were going to panic.

“Woah, uh, wait, wait, wait!”

Mat pulled away from you, his eyebrows furrowed up and worried. “Too soon?” He took a whole step back from you, holding his hands up in surrender. “Too soon. Sorry.”

You didn’t want to stop him from kissing you, you honestly didn’t, and this would be the most romantic place to have a first kiss, but something felt so off. So rushed. You didn’t want to rush things and ruin something that could be so great. You wanted to go slow and steady, you wanted to savor every moment with him. Who knew when it would be over? “No, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be, really.”

“No, I just panicked. I wanna kiss you.” You took his hands and pulled yourself into his embrace, back to where you were seconds earlier. “I really like you, trust me, and I wanna keep hanging out. I wanna date you. Like, officially. Exclusively. I want it to be us.” Mat smiled.

“I want it to be just us, too.”

Your heart fluttered at his soft-spoken confession, admitted with pink cheeks and a shy smile. So he did feel the same way. He did want you and only you. For now, at least. Who knew what could come in the future? “Really?”

“A hundred percent. I haven’t seen anyone else since we met.”

“Wow.” You bit your lip and held back a smile. Everything you’d been feeling towards him, every feeling you’d been worried about, he reciprocated. It was just the two of you. You were in a relationship. You were his girlfriend. “It’s just… still a little scary. I’m scared to jump back into things again.”

“Bad breakup?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I understand, okay? We don’t need to rush.”

“Thank you. Trust me, Mat. I… I want to be with you seriously. It'd be such a shame to waste the chemistry we have. I wanna kiss you, I just…” You squeezed his hands, hoping he’d understand. “I think I’ll make you wait a little longer for that kiss, Maty.”

“Alright. No worries” His words were punctuated with laughter as he settled back into your comfortable position from earlier and leaned back against the wall of the coffee shop, gazing out into the rain, then back down at you. “I can wait. However long you need, babe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

And then, in the pouring rain, after your little heart-to-heart, you couldn’t help but burst out in giggles. This was it. You’d done it, and you were so excited. “So it’s us, then? Us? We? We’re a couple? A couple?” At this, Mat giggled too, overwhelmed with excitement.

“Oh my God, yeah. We’re in a relationship.”

“You’re my boyfriend, Mat.”

His arm squeezed around your waist. “Yeah.” With a content and peaceful smile, he settled his cheek against the top of your head. “You’re my girlfriend, babe.”

[toplinetommy]

Four Times You Ask Travis to Fill In + The One Time He Asks You

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: language, a guy being a dick in the first part

a/n: literally got inspo from this out of nowhere and sat down to write it after a two 8 hour work days, pls dont hesitate to give me feedback!

one

“You want a refill?” Travis asks you as he sees you stirring your straw in your now empty glass. 

“Yes, please!” You answer, smile on your face.

“The usual?” He double checks, regarding the light yellow liquid that was previously in your cup. You nod your head yes and he walks away through the crowd towards the bar.

As you wait, you pull out your phone to check your Snapchat as you lean against the wall where your small group was formed. 

As you switch to texting your roommate back, you feel a much larger presence that couldn’t possibly be Travis. You offer the large stranger a soft smile as you turn your full attention back to your phone. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” The man asks, making you turn to him to fully take his appearance in.

You roll your eyes as you look at him, clearly not knowing him and clearly figuring out that the statement was just a line. “I don’t think so.”

“You sure? I feel like we’ve had to have met before. I’d remember someone as pretty as you,” The guy smirks, taking a step closer to you.

You roll your eyes once more at the comment before turning your attention towards the bar across the room. The dim lighting of the bar combined with the overcrowding made it difficult for you to find your best friend. 

“And I think I’d remember a guy that used that lame of a pick-up line.” You clap back, a tight lipped smile falling on your face once you’re done speaking. You go back to your phone, trying your best to get the guy to take the hint that you’re not interested. Instead, he doesn’t, and he begins speaking yet again.

“You’re sassy, I like that.” He says, his gaze moving from your eyes down the rest of your body. The path of his gaze is painfully obvious to you as you try not to gag at both his actions and his attempts at flirting. He moves his hand to place it on his waist and the second you feel it, you’re shoving him off of you.

You turn your body once again to see if any of your friends notice the situation you’re in. All of them are either in their own worlds or out on the dancefloor, so you start looking for Travis who you still can’t find in the large crowd. 

However, the shove doesn't stop him as he moves towards you again, closer than he was before. He starts to crowd you closer to the wall before a warm hand grabs you and Travis is suddenly between you and the stranger.

“Aye, you better not be hitting on my girl.” He interrupts, linking your fingers with his and fully placing his body in front of yours, blocking you from the much taller man. 

“You better keep your girl in check then, man, she was all over me.” The stranger counters, puffing his chest trying to intimidate Travis.

“My girl wasn’t flirting with you. She can do whatever she wants anyways.” He shrugs, puffing out his smaller, but still broad chest. The stranger finally takes the hint and walks away, making sure to shove Travis as he turns.

“Thank you for that. I barely even talked to him but he wouldn’t leave me alone.” You thank Travis, once he turns back towards you. He hands you your drink before pulling your head into your chest, rubbing the back of your head in comfort.

“You’re okay,” He assures you, pulling away to look at your facial expression.

two

“Hey, you know that Luke Combs concert I bought tickets to, like, months ago?” You ask Travis, sitting down at his island as he moves towards the fridge to get a bottle of water out. He shuts the fridge before turning around and leaning against it. “Yeah? You’re supposed to go with Rilee, right?”

“That’s the thing,” You start. “She was supposed to go with me but I guess her boyfriend is having surgery so she has to be there for that.” 

Travis takes a gulp of his water as he listens closely to your predicament. “So what are you gonna do?” He swallows.

“Well,” you start, the pitch in your voice higher than normal. It’s the same voice you use with him everytime you ask him for a favor and you can tell he knows as he dramatically sets his water bottle down on the counter and throws his baseball hat covered head back. “I was thinking you could come instead. I already checked your game schedule and you don’t have a game and you’ll be in town!” You exclaim. 

Travis just looks at you silently as you speak. Your body is leaning over the island you’re sitting at, trying to get more of his attention and trying to make him understand how big of a deal it is to you.

“You know how much I love him! Please!” You beg further.

“What day is it exactly? I’ll make sure to clear my schedule.” Travis agrees, pulling his phone out of his pocket to double check his calendar. A squeak leaves your mouth and you jump out of your seat, running to him to give him a hug. You kiss his cheek loudly, leaving a wet spot on his cheek and mutter another thank you.

“Yuck.” Travis groans, wiping the slightly wet spot off of his cheek, a smile still covering his face contradicting his verbal discomfort of your actions. 

Pulling away from him, you move a step back opening the fridge to grab a drink for yourself. “You love country music, you can’t not have fun.” You argue, as you close the fridge, staring him down as you do so.

three

Thanksgiving was just right around the corner, which in Philadelphia meant the full effects of Fall were coming out. The streets were littered with orange leaves, pumpkin spice lattes were at all of your favorite coffee shops, and football and hockey was back in full force. 

It also meant the dreaded yearly company dinner your office had around this time. You were one of the younger people working at your office, which meant you didn’t fully immerse yourself into the office culture, and instead only talked to people directly in the same department.

“So, it’s almost American Thanksgiving.” Travis remarks, looking at you writing things down on the calendar that’s stuck to your refrigerator. 

You turn to your friend, hand still writing, “do you know what you’re doing yet?” 

“We have games the day before and the day after, so I’ll probably just go to Haysie’s place since you’re going home.” He shrugs.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. What sounds bad is my drive home and seeing people I haven’t seen in forever asking me the same million questions.” You say, capping your pen and placing it on the countertop next to you. “I also have a company dinner the weekend before, which really doesn’t sound fun.”

“Why?” Travis laughs. He knows you love your job so he’s confused as to why you don’t think you’ll have a fun time. 

“For starters, the company is way larger than you think it is so it’ll be a fuck ton of people. Secondly, I only talk to the people in my department and everyone is significantly older than me.” You explain.

“Do you have to go?” He further questions.

“I don’t think so, but they’ll know if I’m not there.” You shrug, “Think of it like all those dinners you have to do with the Flyers. You could not show up but it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Ahh, I see, okay, yeah, and if it’s anything like mine, it seems like they’ll be stuffy.”

“Exactly.” you point, moving to sit next to him at the kitchen table. “And, I’m pretty sure all of the people I’m friends with are bringing their significant others.” 

He nods his head at your complaints, thinking of positives to bring up about why the dinner will in fact be fun.

“Unless,” You start, dragging out the end of the word which fully grabs Travis’ attention as he sets his beer down to the table. “Do you want to come with? You can be my entertainment for the night!” You suggest, hint of begging in your tone. 

Travis stares at your suggestion dumb-founded, “What.” The stiff tone in his voice makes it seem like he’s not even asking a question, and is instead stating a fact. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What do you mean? It’s a perfect idea!” You clap your hands together before they start moving frantically as you continue to ramble. “You already have a suit, you probably won’t have a game, you’re already used to talking to those fancy people!”

“You should bond with the people you work with.” Travis counters.

“I can still do that if you’re there.” You state, putting on your best puppy dog eyes. 

You stare him down and you can see him start to crack before he responds, “Fine, but if more than five people ask me about what being an NHLer is like, I’m ditching you.”

four

A loud groan leaves your mouth as you walk back into your apartment, a stack of mail in your hands and a confused Travis sitting on your couch. He looks up from his phone with knitted eyebrows, silently asking you what the groan was for.

You set the stack of mail down on the table by your front door before tossing him a pristine white envelope with neat, black handwriting on the outside. “Who’s Emma?” He asks, handing the mail back to you. 

You begin opening the envelope as you speak. “You know that one girl in my sorority that I would constantly complain about?” He nods his head, urging you to go on. “I saw a while ago that she got engaged on Instagram and I guess she’s inviting me to the wedding.”

“Literally who gets married in the winter anyways?!” You groan dramatically, setting your full weight into the couch next to your friend. 

Travis laughs next to you at your dramatic body movement before he turns to you.”So?” He asks, somewhat confused at your groaning. 

“Why would you want to get married in Philly when it’s below freezing? Like who wants to do that!” You complain.

“You know you just don't have to go?” Travis suggests with raised eyebrows. Another groan passes your lips at your oblivious friend.

“I can’t just not go! She was my roommate when I lived in the sorority house.” You state in a straightforward tone. 

“When is it?” Travis questions further.

You toss him the formal invitation, “Early December.” 

He reads over the invitation before looking up to you to hand it back to you. As he reaches his hand to hand it over, a light bulb goes off in your head.

“Oh no.” Travis starts.

“You can come with!” You suggest excitedly.

“No, you don’t need an NHL player crashing your friend’s wedding.” He argues.

“Oh yes, I do.” You argue back, voice stern. The two of you stare one another down for what feels like minutes before Travis finally caves and agrees to go with you.

--

“See what I mean?” You start turning to look at Travis. “It’s fucking freezing why whould you want to get married in this? There’s literally snow on the ground.” You complain, gesturing to the inches of snow surrounding the sidewalks as you walk from the ceremony to the reception.

Travis wraps his arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm to try and give you some sort of warmth. It isn’t as successful as you want it to be, but you appreciate the gesture as you lean into his warmer side.

“It’s not fair though, you get to wear an overcoat and still look nice. If I put on my winter coat I would like a marshmallow.” You scoff, causing loud laughter to erupt from Travis.

“You know damn well you wouldn’t look like a marshmallow.” He starts in between fits of laughter. “And, besides, your sexy legs would take away from your marshmallow-ness.” He jokes poking at the bottom of your thigh where you dress ended and the bareness of your legs started.

A light blush comes to your cheeks and your stomach tightens as you scoff at his comment and push him away jokingly.

You guys walk the rest of the short distance to the reception in quiet chills before finally finding your seats. You had to admit the wedding so far had been beautiful, even if you had a slight distaste for the bride herself.

You’re still sat after the both of you finish your meals, the both of you taking a break before joining the dancefloor again. 

“Not too bad, eh?” Travis questions you. His arm is resting comfortably over the back of your chair not quite directly landing over your shoulders. You turn your attention from the large mass on the dancefloor to Travis before answering, “Yeah, better than I thought it would be. I’ve gotten to see a lot of people from college I haven’t seen in a while.” A good chunk of your sorority sisters had also been in attendance as well as a few other people you recognized as Emma’s close friends.

He nods his head slightly before you ask him if he too is enjoying his evening. “Of course, it’s an excuse to hang with you and get you to dance without begging.” He remarks. “Speaking of, I think it’s time to go out-dance everyone out there.” He stands up, offering his hand for you to grab. You take a hold of his hand as you stand up and follow him to the middle of the room where the dancefloor was located.

The two of you dance for a while, and by two of you, it’s Travis dancing like an idiot while you kind of just bounce and sing to the songs. A slower song comes on and you turn away from Travis, intending to make your way back to your seats. Instead, Travis stops you, pulling your body flush against his as he rests his hands on the small of your back. “Not so fast there, killer,” He smiles, looking down at your face. 

You slowly move your hands to his shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair with one hand. “You should really get a haircut soon.” You chirp, knowing all too well he won’t cut it just because you told him to. He playfully rolls his eyes at your joke and lets the two of you dance to the song in silence. 

As the song ends you begin to slightly pull away from him. “Thanks for filling in as my date today, Travis. I know you get your fair share of weddings in the offseason.”

“You know I don’t mind, y/n” He replies as the music completely cuts out before the next one starts.

You leave a soft kiss on his cheek before you’re pulled away by a few of your friends you haven’t been able to say hi to yet.

plus one

Your phone starts to ring, pulling your attention from your computer. Picking it up you see Travis’ face covering the screen so you answer it.

“Y/n!” He cheers loudly into the phone, causing you to erupt in a giggle. “Have you checked Instagram in like the past five minutes?”

“No?” You answer, infliction in your voice. You move your phone away from your ear, putting it on speaker before opening the Instagram app. “I’ve been pretty busy at work today.” 

“Well, look!” He says, just as loudly. You scroll on your feed, trying to find what Travis is silently asking you to look for. You still don’t know what he’s talking about and you open your mouth to ask him and that’s when you see it.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim, liking the post by the Philadelphia Flyers. You read the caption a few more times as the news settles in. “You’re an all star!”

“I’m an all star, baby!” He repeats back to you. Your smile widens even more hearing the excitement in your best friend’s voice. “Chuck pulled me aside before practice this morning.” He explains. 

“Congratulations Teeks,” You compliment. “I’m really proud of you. You’ve been working your ass off all season for something like this.” 

“Thank you, y/n, means a lot.” He starts, a softness in his tone replacing his previous excitement. “I’ll let you get back to work, though.” He finishes.

“Want to celebrate after your game?” You suggest. “I can come over and bring some food?” 

“Sounds perfect. See ya later.”

“Good luck tonight! I’ll talk to you soon.” You conclude, hanging up.

--

You knock on Travis’ front door before opening it and letting yourself in, announcing your presence. You go to set the bag of take out and the bottle of wine you brought over for the occasion onto his island before you see him emerge from his bedroom hallway.

Once you see him you smile and run over to him, tackling him in a hug. “Congratulations!” You shriek with glee. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck as he wraps his tightly around your torso, slightly lifting your body off the ground.

“Thank you!” He cheers once he pulls away from you.

“I brought Five Guys and some wine to celebrate,” You start, leading him back towards his kitchen island. “I thought you could ditch your diet for one night.”

Your joke causes Travis to let out a chuckle as he closely examines the bottle of wine you brought. Instead of opening it or even pulling out the to-go containers from the bag, he leans against the island turning to look at you.

There’s an unreadable softness in his eyes which has you confused. Not only did he find out that he was going to be an NHL all-star at such a young age, the Flyers had also won their game that night, so he should at least be filled with glee.

“What’s up?” You ponder from across the spacious kitchen.

“Just thinking about everything I guess, everything it took to get here.” The sudden turn from Travis’ normal cheerfulness to openly talking about his emotions has you even more confused. He looks into your eyes from where he stands and holds out his arms, leaning towards you to pull you closer.

“Like, you’ve been here when we were dog shit - when I was dog shit, and now you’re here.” He starts. He’s holding both your hands now, lightly rubbing his thumbs on the back of them. He looks down at your joined hands before continuing. “Like, I feel like I’m in a dream, like how the hell am I an all-star?”

“Because you’re an amazing hockey player Travis, and the league knows that.” You comfort him, taking a step closer to him. It feels as if the air around is lighter as you look into his eyes and feel his body closer to yours than it normally is.

He stays quiet a little while longer, glancing at your mouth every so often. “I was thinking today, you should come with me to St. Louis, eh?” He suggests, pulling your body so that your thighs are touching his. His rough hands disconnect from your hands, as he places one on your waist and the other on the junction of your jaw.

Your mouth slightly drops open at his suggestion, “Don’t families just go? And like girlfriends?”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I’m getting around to asking you.” He whispers, head leaning in towards yours. His mouth is millimeters away from yours, and you’re sure he can feel your deep breathing on his face. “I kinda like, really like you.”

“So, you’re asking me out then?” You question, your hands moving to the back of his neck where his longer hair rests.

“I mean, I kinda thought all those times you asked me to go to those things where dates,” He shrugs, his nose brushing against yours. “I was hoping we could skip that part and you could just be my girlfriend, yeah?” 

Your eyes momentarily move from his, down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes before you respond in a whisper, “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes for Travis to close the small gap between the two of you as his mouth moves against yours softly.

[captainchrisstan]

Delicate

Summary: 

My reputation´s never been worse, so

You must like me for me 

Words: 1438

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: none.... maybe angst 

A/N: this is done with love for @angrybirdcr​ Thank you for letting me participate and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 

7-. “Is that what you think of me?”

17-. “I can´t imagine this world without you”

Hey guys! ✨my mother language is not English, so if there is any mistake please help me to improve. Also, my work is not allowed to be on other platforms. Just comment, like and reblog ❤️

The first thing you do when you close the magazine is to throw it as far as possible out of your reach, damn journalists you thought, again they had misinterpreted your words and what you didn't know is if they had done it on purpose or not.

Working in the film industry is complicated, if you are not careful your whole life was exposed to the public and that could be a double-edged sword. The big problem was that you had worked very hard to get to where you were now, even getting a starring role in one of the Marvel films but it had all fallen apart once you started dating Chris.

Chris Evans, the actor best known for his role as Captain America, was your boyfriend, so you were no longer known as "Y/n the actress with a great future in Hollywood" but as "Y/n The girlfriend of Captain America". At first, this fact bothered you a lot but Chris helped calm your nerves by saying that later he would be known as "Chris the Spider-woman's boyfriend", which is how Hollywood worked.

Ten months later your relationship with Chris was all wonderful, instead, the press attacked you with tooth and nail, insinuating that you were with him for fame and money because of the age difference, although it was not much it was still a difference that every journalist sought to highlight, so both decided to keep the relationship as hidden as possible, to the point that the press did not know if they were still together or not.

The sound of your cell phone is what gets you out of your attempt to burn the magazine with your eyes, looking at it you realize it's a message from Scott saying if you could go get Chris who was already a little bit drunk.

The trip to Scott's house is short but you spend it grumbling about curses to the magazine and journalists in general, once you arrive at Scott's house you can observe the boys standing outside waiting for you.

“Hi, Y/n!”

"Hey Scott, how are you?"

"Well, the usual" Chris quickly says goodbye to his brother and gets in the car, when he tries to put on his seatbelt you quickly talk to Scott.

"How many?"

"like a decent man"

"Hey! I'm still here!” The three of them laugh and when Chris finally manages to put his seat belt on, they say goodbye to Scott.

"Stay with me tonight?" You look sideways quickly at Chris and smile, you honestly liked it when Chris was stress-free and relaxed, he looked even happier than he already was.

"it's an order or a question"

"Both" you both laugh and just nod your head.

"What's going on?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I know you, what did I do now?"

"You haven't done anything .... or is there something you haven't told me?" Chris raises his hands in surrender and you just laugh.

"Yeah, but what's going on?"

"Today another magazine came out with a little interview of mine... You know, the usual. The thing is, they brought it up when I went to have coffee with Tom the other day after recording and they started making deductions about whether I was after his money and fame and all that… Again… You know me and you know I'm not like that..." the neighborhood where Chris lived was approaching which surprised you, the road had become shorter than usual. What you miss about the situation was that Chris didn't say anything.

Stopping the car in the parking lot of Chris's home, you quickly turn to look at it. "You know I'm not like that, right?" Chris gets out of the car and heads for the driveway.

"Is that what you think of me, after almost a year of the relationship, do you think I'm just looking for money and fame?”

"y/n I don't want to argue, I'm a little past my prime and I don't want to mess up... let's keep talking tomorrow" Chris disappears inside his house and you keep leaving your keys on the entry table.

"This is not something you can discuss tomorrow Chris, this is something you think of me" with a sigh Chris simply looks at his girlfriend and knows he will regret what he says.

"In the beginning... what we had, in the beginning, was too good to be true Y/n you have to understand that..."

"No, I don't get it, Chris."

"It would not be the first time that something like this would happen to me..."

"I'm not them, Chris."

"I know! I know!... but you have to understand that you were practically starting your career, what better than to jump into stardom than to date one of the most sought-after men in the industry". You are speechless, your hand moves to pinch the inside of your arm in an attempt to make it all a dream, but unfortunately it is not. "Even I did that!" 

"I think I'll go and sleep at home"

"y/n please"

"No Chris, I need some space."

The weekend had gone by faster than you thought possible, Chris had called and sent messages but you didn't answer any, every time you saw his name on the screen the words repeated over and over in your mind.

With what Chris said on Friday night, thousands of situations made more sense to you, like when he told you a secret from a colleague like he was waiting for you to tell a magazine, or when he would arrive sometimes with expensive gifts even though you told him you didn't want anything, there were many signs but you were too blind to notice. 

On Monday you had to go back to the set to re-record, your manager Jimmy just stared at you when you walked into the makeup area waiting for you to say what had happened.

"Chris called me Sunday morning," as you sit down you simply start browsing Instagram hoping Jimmy would take it as a sign that you didn't want to talk about it. "You know you can count on me, right?”,  the facade that you didn't care about anything slowly begins to crumble the moment those words leave Jimmy's mouth. A few knocks on the door bring both of them out of their trance, as you look up to see in the mirror in front of you, you can see Chris almost as emaciated as you are.

"Could you give us a few minutes alone, Jimmy?"

"Sure, I'll tell Veronica not to come to makeup yet.",  When Jimmy comes out the door he lets Chris in and he sits in the same place where your manager was before.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you... clear up the weekend" you get out of your seat but Chris is quicker and grabs your doll "Please"

"Chris, you've already made it clear to me what you think of me, and I can't change that.”

"No, don't talk like that. At first, I thought I'd use it as a marketing technique, you know.”

“Oh, God!”

"Just... just let me finish" The seconds that passed felt like an eternity for Chris. "At first I didn't have faith in us, you're younger than me, you were just starting your career and... the truth is I don't have a decent excuse if I'm honest.  Soon I realized that I had misjudged you, that you were not what I or the press thought you were. In our first fight... do you remember... when I went to spend the night at my mom's? well, when I got there I talked to her and she ended up yelling at me, she told me that you were the best thing that had ever happened to me and that she would be ashamed to call me son if I let you go". Chris laughs nervously, but even that can't make your anger go away.  "Sometimes I wonder if he doesn't love you more than me. The thing is... I can't imagine a world without you and even though there are times when the moments get difficult between us, nothing scares me more than losing you..."  without letting him finish you throw yourself into his arms, although there are no excuses for his behavior you cannot but forgive him. At the end of the day, they were both humans. 

"Why didn't you talk to me before?" Chris just shrugs. "We were able to clear this up from the beginning."

"All I know is, I don't want to lose you.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @petersoftboyparker​

[strawberrynamjoon]

you talk too much | namjoon

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: friends to lovers, fluff

word count: 6k

summary: you never thought that you would ever be trapped inside your own room with your best friend namjoon while your roommate is having loud sex in your living room but you were not at all complaining about where it led the two of you.

For months and months, you tried to convince yourself that what you felt wasn’t a crush, that the tightness in your ribcage whenever you saw Namjoon had nothing to do with your feelings towards him - you told yourself over and over again that his deep dimples, that even were hiding in his handsome face when he wasn’t smiling were not affecting you whatsoever and that the way his broad shoulders looked in his oversize hoodies didn’t make you want to lean on them at all.

But the more you tried to tell yourself, the more you had to realize that the truth is that you were indeed falling for your best friend. And honestly, how could you not with his hand on your legs when you were at parties and with him making sure you’re never going home alone, if he couldn’t pick you up he’d at least insist on talking on the phone until you were safe in bed. It didn’t take long for you to realize that Namjoon was the born boyfriend, checking all your boxes when you imagined how the perfect significant other should be.

You were wishing that it was just the attention he gave you that made you think such thoughts but by now you were aware that it was his whole being that made you feel somehow hopeful even on the rainiest of days. That’s just the effect he had on people, his warm smile and clumsy but very smart personality were a dangerously charming combination, affecting everyone including you.

“You should sleep,” as you glanced up from the unimportant and rather boring Instagram post you were reading, you spotted the boy who just had preoccupied your thoughts standing in your doorway, “it’s three in the morning.”

You shrugged, putting your phone out of your hand and moving to the right side of the bed, making space for his tall figure, gesturing him to come over, “You’re no fun.”

With a relaxed chuckle, he made his way over to you and comfortably let himself fall down on your bed. It always felt natural to be with him, no awkwardness or weird tension at all, your friendship has always been lighthearted and easy, no space for anything complicated - that’s just another reason why you were worried about bringing feelings into it.

“Shouldn’t you go home?” you asked him, rolling your body to the side so you could face him better. The boys-night your roommate and close friend Hoseok had was long over and you were pretty sure that everyone except for Namjoon was on their way home by now.

“Without saying goodbye to you? I wouldn’t dare to,” he joked, still sitting on your bed, getting more comfortable by every passing second, currently being in an awkward position, somewhere between sitting and lying down.

“You didn’t even knock on the door,” you gave him a stern glance, “What would you have done if I had someone over or something like that?”

Namjoon tried to hide his laughter, a hand in front of his mouth, shaking his head amused, “You? Having a boy over that isn’t me? Sounds unrealistic, don’t you think?”

It was those moments that made you unsure about where you stood, of course, it could have been just a humorous comment, nothing more than a bit of nagging but the way his eyes sparkled when he talked to you made you hope there might be something more behind it. But on the other hand, even if it was, would you ever want to act on it? It’s cliche to fall in love with your best friend, a bit too cliche for the two of you, especially with Namjoon being such a smart person, he probably wouldn’t just risk your friendship for a little crush. Still, deep down, hidden somewhere deep inside of your brain, the thought of what could be wouldn’t let you go, hunting you constantly.

No one ever warned you that catching feelings could be so complicated.

“Thank you for reminding me of my dry love life,” you answered and even though you rolled your eyes, your voice was playful, “You think I’m not able to get a date?”

Now Namjoon was the one rolling his eyes, by now completely laying in your bed instead of just sitting on it anymore, your bodies facing each other. For most people it would be quite exciting to face their crush like this, in bed, only a few centimeters between them, something bound to happen. For the two of you though it was something rather normal, no flirting intentions behind it all - it was almost comparable to a female best friend sharing a bed with you.

“That’s absolutely not what I meant,” he insisted, “I think you could easily get a date but you’re way too lazy to try.”

You weren’t going to lie, he had a point. “It’s exhausting,” you sighed, shaking your head as you cuddled yourself into your blanket, “I hate how awkward first dates are.”

“I think they’re quite exciting,” Namjoon shrugged, covering himself with the spare blanket in your bed.

“Aren’t you getting a bit too comfortable now?” you nagged him, a grin on your lips, “I thought you were just saying good night and about to leave?”

The grin on his face mirrored yours, “I wanted to but now I apparently have to give you dating advice.”

You let out a scoff, “Not needed nor wanted. You go on dates if you think they’re so exciting.”

Your friend took off his beanie and his hand ran through his hair to fix it, his dimples as deep as the pacific ocean and he looked even taller than usual somehow, the sight of him in your bed making you feel annoyed. Who allowed him to be so beautiful yet so unaware of it? It was almost unfair, how were you supposed to not feel anything for him when he was literally looking like the biggest boyfriend right in front of you. You wanted to sigh as you started to feel the tight feeling in your chest again, followed by the tingles in your stomach but you shook your head as if it would help you shake those feelings out of it.

He gave you a small nose scrunch, “If I date who takes care of you?”

The tone in his voice made it sound like he was flirting and the expression in his eyes signaled the same, leaving you wondering if sometimes Namjoon thought the same of you. You talked to Hobi about the situation before and he was just as sure as you were that indeed, Namjoon was a bit flirty around you, something rather unusual for him. Even though Namjoon was good with words he often preferred to listen instead of talking - it was easy for him to make friends and certainly, he could find himself a girlfriend in no time but he didn’t seem to crave one at all, not being very flirty most of the time. Well, except with you whenever he had a bit too much to drink.

You still remember that one time, a few months ago, when you were celebrating Hoseok’s birthday - it was a normal night, all of your friends at your place, alcohol in everyone’s veins and big smiles on everyone’s faces, cups all over the place, everyone enjoying themselves. Of course, Namjoon was right beside you, it always ended up like this sooner or later and judging by his hand that was lazily resting around your waist he had a bit too much to drink already.

The boys currently had another heated discussion, this time about who in the group had the best hands. Last weekend they were in the same spot, loudly fighting over the question if asses or breasts are more important, making you and the other girls, like your best friend or Hoseok’s friend with benefit laugh out loud at every stupid thing they said.

“I’m not even going to try,” Jimin said, throwing his hands in the air, “It would just be pathetic.”

“Don’t say things like that,” your best friend said with a pout on her face, “you have the cutest hands.”

“I don’t want to sound narcissistic but I think I have pretty nice hands,” the handsome man beside you said, holding his hand up for everyone to study it. He did have nice hands, you noticed that before. It would be a lie to say that you never admired his long and slim fingers before, a vein or two popping out every now and then. There was nothing wrong with liking your best friends’ hands, right?

“I vote Namjoon too,” you agreed, making him shoot you a thankful smile.

“Of course you like Namjoon's hands,” Hoseok scoffed, “You’re such a traitor.”

“Hey, leave her alone,” Namjoon warned his friend jokingly, his hand resting on top of your thigh now, “She didn’t say yours aren’t good, just that mine are the nicest.”

“It doesn’t even matter guys,” you insisted, “I have ugly hands too, there’s nothing wrong with it. Hands aren’t that important.”

As Hoseok and Taehyung ignored you, ready to fight for the second place Namjoon grabbed your hand, bringing it closer to his face to study it.

“Why’d you say they are ugly?” his voice was quieter and more peaceful now, only talking to you as the rest of the group was bickering in the background. 

“They’re so small,” you answered him a bit whiny, not wanting him to look at them too long.

Bringing up his own hand to yours, he pressed his palm against yours - his hand was way bigger than yours, your fingertips ending at the start of his fingers. 

“It’s cute,” he promised you as his fingers wrapped around yours, holding your hand, “Perfect for handholding.”

Luckily your cheeks were already red from the alcohol because you could feel even more heat rushing into them than before. There he was, holding your hand in his casually, making your heart skip a beat, not wanting him to stop holding it ever. 

The memories made you crave holding his hand again, missing how nice and soft his hand felt in yours. 

“Hey, don’t say stuff like that,” you almost scolded him as you forced yourself back to reality, suddenly feeling shy, “You’re being cheesy.”

Namjoon was clearly enjoying this conversation, the big grin never leaving his face, “Not my intention but you have to agree with me, ever since we know each other you haven’t been on a single date.”

Why in the world was he not letting the topic die? Something made him bring it up again and again. “I know,” you mumbled, knowing he wouldn’t stop talking to you about it until you’d give in, “but neither have you.”

“This is not about me,” your friend laughed, his head resting on his arm as he laid a few centimeters away from you.

“Can we stop discussing my love life now?” your tone was almost begging, not wanting to have this conversation with Namjoon. Not only because the only guy you’d be interested in when it came to dating was him but also because he was probably right. You should go on dates, you were young but most guys were just plain boring, not piquing your interest at all - they weren’t Namjoon after all.

“If I say no will you talk to me about it?” he asked you, playfully raising his eyebrow.

Letting out a deep breath you shook your head no and turned away from him, laying on your back and staring at your ceiling. It was pretty dark in your room, nothing else than a warm fairy light on, making Namjoon’s skin appear even more golden, “We’re both too stubborn to give in.”

Laughing yet again, Namjoon’s hand found your shoulder, trying to make you face him again, “Hey, turn back around.”

Using your whole body strength, you tried to fight against him, knowing you wouldn’t last long. You chuckled as he tried to make you face him again and so did he, not wanting to lose against you.

After a few seconds, you gave up, facing his face again.

Just as he wanted to say something you tensed up and shushed him, sure you heard a noise from the living room on the other side of the door. Your eyebrows furrowed and Namjoon’s expression mirrored yours, trying to find out what exactly you were hearing. a moment passed and then you heard another weird noise.

Alarmed, your eyes widened as you looked at Namjoon, “What is that noise?”

Keeping quiet he tried to figure out what exactly was going on outside of your room and you could swear he held his breath to not be disturbed by his own breathing.

Another moment passed until both of your concentrated expressions vanished and turned into panicked ones as soon as you heard a female voice, to be more precise, the voice of Hobi’s ‘good friend’ Carly, as he liked to call her.

“Not now,” you mumbled to yourself, frustration written all over your face, knowing they will not let you sleep. That was the only downside of living with Hobi - he was loud, not only in his everyday life. Most of the time you couldn’t care less, happy that your friend gets laid. You’d put in your headphones and read or watch youtube videos but now Namjoon was in bed with you and you could imagine better things than listen to your roommate and his friend with benefit making love while your best friend that you liked a bit too much was right next to you.

Namjoon, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind, chuckling to himself, “It’s three in the morning. How was Carly even still awake?”

You rubbed your temple, “That’s a normal Saturday night in this household. Hobi booty calls her and within a few minutes, I have to lock myself into my room. Normally he’s at least warning me before though.”

Amused, your best friend grabbed your headphones on the nightstand beside his side of the bed and handed them to you, “I guess you’ll need them. I’ll sneak out as soon as they are in his room, I’ll gladly pass on this experience.”

“A wise idea,” you answered as Namjoon stood up, a bit of disappointment filling you as he left the bed even though you knew it was the best option, you would’ve liked to talk to him a bit more.

Before he got up, his arm was pulling you closer to him by your hip, closing the distance between the two of you. The sudden movement made you feel alarmed because deep down you wanted him even closer, knowing that this will be just another moment added to your list of questionable things that happened between the two of you.

He looked into your eyes and opened his mouth, wanting to say something before he stopped himself, a bit of awkwardness growing between the two of you because of the silence. To stop the situation from becoming uncomfortable you decided to rest your head on his chest and you could feel his tense muscles immediately relaxing.

“Good night, (y/n),” your best friend whispered into your hair, being closer to you than usual. Even though you surely weren’t afraid of physical contact, you still knew that Namjoon wasn’t the biggest fan of cuddling and obviously, you never tried to cuddle with him, since you officially were nothing more than friends. Your mind told you that he wouldn’t just hold everyone like this and that he too seemed to feel the change in your friendship that was going on but you didn’t want to get your hopes up, “Let’s hang out soon, yeah? Just the two of us. We haven’t spent time alone together in ages.”

Stop saying those things to me, Namjoon, you’re making me weak you thought to yourself. 

You dared to nuzzle your face into his chest a bit more, humming into it, “That’d be nice. I miss you.”

His hand petted your hair softly before he slowly got up to leave your room, agreeing with you, “I always miss you when you’re not around.”

You bit your lip, sighing as your head lost contact to his chest, knowing that you were in too deep.

Shortly after, Namjoon stood behind your door, just waiting to hear them leave the living room so he could leave without ruining their mood. He didn’t even say goodbye to Hobi earlier but after the uncountable beers they shared, he wasn’t surprised that his friend forgot about him still being there.

Unexpectedly, both of you heard a rather loud female whimper coming from the living room, looking at each other shocked once again.

“Are they-” Namjoon started, but didn’t finish his question, an audible gulp coming from him, “in the living room?”

You let out an annoyed groan, shaking your head in disbelief, “I am so sorry you have to witness this, Namjoon.”

Making a mental note to kill Hoseok in the morning, you felt terribly guilty for whatever reason. Namjoon and you should never have to hear them have sex, especially not while you’re basically imprisoned in your room.

“What do I do now?” your best friend asked you, almost sounding overwhelmed. A part of you was amused at his helplessness, especially because for you this became pretty normal.

Sitting up on your bed, your legs crossed, you gave him an apologetic glance, “You either go out there and interrupt them or you stay here.”

“I don’t want to annoy you,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, “but I certainly don’t wanna see Hoseok getting it on on the couch we all had beers earlier.”

Letting out a laugh, you patted the free space beside you in your bed yet once again, “Just stay here. believe me, it’s not a pretty sight.”

And with that, Namjoon found his way back into your bed, looking almost irresistibly cute in his black slim fitted sweatpants. You made another mental note to reconsider killing Hoseok because in a weird way he was responsible for Namjoon being in your bed now.

The way he was lying next to you, so relaxed and amused at the current happenings made you feel like a teenager in love again. It was a nice atmosphere, both of you definitely did not mind spending a bit more time with each other - at least until you heard your roommate becoming louder and louder and the craving to die right here became bigger and bigger.

“As much as I love spending time with you, I’ll never look at Hoseok the same way,” Namjoon joked, his hand lazily resting on your arm. You could feel yourself melting under his touch, every single time his thumb caressed your arm you wanted him so much closer. There you were once again, wondering if it was only a friendly gesture or a genuine sign of affection towards you.

God, you were falling deeper and deeper for him. Just looking in his eyes was making you feel frustrated now. It was time for you to figure out how to continue with him rather sooner than later, knowing that it was just a little bit too late to deny your feelings.

Your body was burning, wanting to move closer to Namjoon but not daring to. All you could do was hoping that he’d make a move on you, even a little sign that it was okay to cuddle him would be enough for you to hold him close and never let him go. But by now you were a professional when it came to pushing away those kind of thoughts even though this situation was a bit more extreme than the usual ones.

“I didn’t want to destroy your peaceful night,” he assured you once again, an apologetic face looking right at yours. His voice was nothing more than a careful whisper but his voice sounded even more raspy than usual, making you wonder how he’d sound like in the morning after waking up.

You shook your head, a small smile on your face, “It’s not like I would’ve gotten much peace with Carly and Hoseok in the living room anyways.”

Namjoon let out a laugh, his whole body relaxing immediately. It’s been some time since the two of you were all alone in your bed, especially in the middle of the night. He smelled like a mixture of his usual cologne and beer.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask Namjoon as you caught him letting his thoughts drift away, his eyes wandering to the ceiling and his bottom lip sucked in. The atmosphere was quite comfortable except for the noises from the living room you luckily somehow managed to ignore, “You probably expected something different from this night too.”

He frowned as you said that, glancing at you with his eyes squinted, “Stop saying that, you know I love to spend time with you.”

Right into your heart, just like everything he said.

“I know you do, idiot,” you replied, that’s not what you meant and he knew that, “but this is because you have to be here, not because you want to.”

“Shut up now,” he chuckled playfully, shaking his head in disbelief, “The last time I was lying in your bed you were so drunk that I was afraid you might die of alcohol poisoning.”

Laughter escaped your lips as he reminded you of the messy night half a year ago, at a random party at Taehyung’s and Jeongguk’s dorm. Actually, you don’t remember too much of the night, still no idea how exactly you managed to end up that drunk in the first place. You barely ever have blackouts after a night out but thinking back of that night everything seemed spongy.

“I was shocked when I woke up next to you,” you laughed lightheartedly, almost blushing thinking about how embarrassing you must have been, “I thought I lured you into my bed.”

He flashed you yet another breathtaking smile, obviously remembering the night more clearly than you, “I think you were way too drunk for that. but you did tell me how sexy you think I am.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, wondering if you heard right, “You’re kidding.”

“Absolutely not,” his tone became nagging in an instant, almost even teasing you, “and every time I tried to stop holding your hand to give you some water you threw a fit.”

Without thinking about it twice you facepalmed yourself a bit too hard, not believing he never told you about this before, “Namjoon, I am so so so sorry.”

Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind, a bright smile still on his face as he repositioned himself in your bed, coming a bit closer to the middle and you wondered if he did it on purpose, “it’s not like I wanted to stop holding it, I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t dehydrate.”

The admiration in his voice sent shivers down your spine. You were delusional but not that delusional - he was flirting with you for sure now, the whole atmosphere was rather romantic in general and the alcohol running through his veins probably helped him to come out of his shell too. The problem with being such close friends was that most of the time you weren’t able to interpret Namjoon’s behavior towards you - it was the constant question of is he just nice or does he like me and with him being such a relaxed and laid back person it was even harder to tell.

The chuckle on your face was small and soft, appreciation written all over your face as you and your best friend's eyes met, “You’re always taking care of me.”

Namjoon’s eyes couldn’t stop looking at your face, “I just wanted to hear more about how sexy you think I am.”

Sighing at his nagging, you let out a pout, “Stop, I’ll never drink again if you don’t stop nagging. I’m just embarrassing myself apparently and make you take care of my drunk ass.”

The grin on his face hid a bit mischief in it, his arm wrapping around you so his hand could rest on your lower back, carefully studying your face as if to check if you were okay with it, “I’m a simple guy, a pretty girl gives me compliments and I become weak.”

“You’re such a flirt,” now you were the one nagging, scrunching your nose a bit as you dared to intertwine your leg with his and he immediately let you do it, “Please keep going.”

You could feel his palm push you closer to him and without hesitation you obeyed, only a few centimeters between your chests left. Somehow you didn’t feel nervous at all, you felt calm under Namjoon’s touch, maybe a bit confused about what exactly was happening but you tried to go with the flow. 

He chuckled, “I would love to flirt all night but I have to admit that the moans from the living room are quite distracting.”

You could swear you started to hear Hoseok’s dirty talking and to save yourself and Namjoon from it you thought that the only thing that could save the atmosphere was listening to music with your earphones, hoping it would drown out the sounds from the other room. 

You leaned over Namjoon with your upper body to reach towards the nightstand on his side, not realizing what it could look like. As your whole upper body was hovering above Namjoon’s you could hear a frustrated groan from the man under you as you grabbed your phone and earphones.

“Now you’re intentionally teasing me,” he laughed, his hand grabbing your hip to keep you in place, sending shivers down your spine. It was genuinely not what you intended but now that you saw him under you, you weren’t complaining.

Cautious, you lay down again but this time, half of your body was on top of him. Your leg on his leg, your chest on his chest, your head next to his, his arm spread out under your head so you could rest your head on it. 

Without saying anything, a bit anxious about suddenly being so close to him you plugged your earphones into your phone, offering Namjoon one, “What do you wanna listen to?”

His eyes were closed, petting your hair softly, “Anything is better than the current background noise.”

You prayed that he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating, not being able to process the fact that you were in bed next to him right now, in a position that wasn’t very platonic. 

Scrolling through your playlist you put on a slow RnB song, matching the atmosphere.

“I love this song,” Namjoon repositioned himself carefully, not wanting you to think that he wanted you to move. Quite the contrary, he wanted you to never move again if possible. If he were to decide, he’d just spent the rest of the weekend in your bed like this, enjoying your warmth and scent, “Come a bit closer.”

And you gladly did, wrapping your arm around his torso, drawing small circles on his exposed skin where his shirt rose up a bit. 

The two of you were just lying there, enjoying the moment with the slow music in your ears, getting used to each other’s touch. It felt both, like the most normal thing in the world and completely nerve-wracking at the same time. 

A part of you wanted to ask him about what was happening, in need of clearance - you did not want to get your hopes up only to be disappointed. But on the other hand, you knew your best friend better than anyone else. Namjoon wouldn’t just be in bed like this with anyone, especially not with someone so dear to him, risking things to become weird between the two of you. Never before were you as sure that he felt the same for you as right now, wondering what was going through his head right now.

“What are you thinking of?” he asked you in that exact moment as if he could read your thoughts.

You chuckled into the crook of his neck, your lips dangerously close to his skin, giving him goosebumps, “I was wondering what you were thinking.”

He then joined your chuckling, his hand wandering down from your hair to your shoulders, pressing you closer to him, “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

Looking up at his face from his neck, you furrowed your brows, “I do want to know.”

“Believe me, you don’t,” he laughed, his fingertips carefully driving over your collarbones.

“Can’t believe you’re having inappropriate thoughts about me,” you joked, playfully hitting his chest.

Pressing a gentle kiss against your hair, he repositioned himself, his body now turned towards yours instead of laying on his back, still making sure there was as little distance between you as possible, “My thoughts are still PG-13, I promise.”

Namjoon’s face was dangerously close to yours now and you knew what was coming next, every single nerve in your body waiting for the sweet release in form of his lips on top of yours, knowing you’d only be able to relax again as soon as the tension between you was gone.

He looked into your eyes, intertwining his leg with yours yet again, his hand wandering down your side until he found your hand, taking it in yours.

“I still get excited every time we hold hands,” he whispered over the music still playing in your earphones as your noses brushed, just waiting for someone to finally lean in. You needed him to be braver to you, needed him to close the final space between your lips. 

The tension between you two was growing with each passing second, every little movement making you tense up more. You hated how dry your lips felt suddenly, you hated how you felt like you were practically melting away under Namjoon’s touch and you hated how much you needed him to kiss you.

“I always wanted this,” Namjoon added, squeezing your hand a bit, his face so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath on you. His free hand found your cheeks, his thumb softly caressing it with so much affection, you wish you could save this feeling somewhere to always come back to it, sure you could never get enough of it. 

Careful, you ran your tongue over your lips, ready for what was happening next, daring to move your face a bit closer to his, your lips hovering just right above yours, closing your eyes.

“In my mind we’re always kissing,” he started again but stopped when he heard your soft chuckle.

“You talk too much, Namjoon,” you playfully informed him, making him chuckle too.

“I’m sorry, I’m just-”, he whispered, his eyes closed too by now, “Guess I’m just nervous.”

Just as you wanted to tell him that there was nothing to be nervous about, that you wanted this as much as he did, every single thought in your head was cut off, nothing else on your mind than the sudden contact of Namjoon’s lips on top of yours, soft and steady, kissing you carefully. His hands still in the same places but his body pressing itself even closer to yours, slowly adding pressure into the kiss that tasted a bit like beer - but beer never tasted better to you. 

Your whole body was relaxing into his touch, your hand letting go of his to wander up to his arm, not wanting the kiss to end and apparently, neither did Namjoon. 

His now free hand grabbed your hip, pressing you into him immediately, wanting you so much closer than physically possible. 

As the two of you broke free, Namjoon was already looking at you when you opened your eyes, his eyes sparkling like you’ve never seen them before.

By now the sounds from the living room were gone and both of you lost your earphones sometime during the kiss. 

“I don’t want to go now,” Namjoon confesses, pressing another peck to your lips before kissing down your jawline, right to your neck, “Let me stay with you.”

“After that, I wouldn’t let you go even if you wanted to,” you reassured him as he was working his magic on your neck, your eyes closed so you could enjoy the moment even more.

“I hope you know I don’t want to go back to being just friends after tonight,” he sounded almost a bit anxious between the kisses that wandered down further and further, his mouth now on your collarbone, working itself down to the top of your breasts in no time, “I’ve liked you for such a long time now, please tell me you feel the same.”

“You have no idea how smitten I’m for you,” you laughed, your hand playing with his hair as he placed the first kiss right above the collar of your shirt. 

Namjoon’s hand wandered down your shirt, feeling you up slowly and you could feel breathy chuckle that escaped his lips on top of your breasts, “Remind me to thank Hoseok tomorrow morning for having sex in your living room.”

if you read until here i wanna say thank you, this is my first ever fic i wrote for someone else than got7 - i will post more bts scenarios on this blog from now on! ♥

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique​ ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) VI -Modern!Shirbert

Words: 2,292

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Six: Kindred Spirits.

Anne to ‘Golden Trio’: I know you were looking forward to our party this weekend but I just got my period and I’m DYING so… rain check?

Cole: Bitch—

Diana: Oh, no! :( I hate when that happens, but it’s okay, we can wait!

Cole: I just want you to appreciate my friendship right now cause I’m on the verge of throwing myself over a cliff but fine, I have no uterus, no opinion. I’ll have to stand these beasts a while longer

Diana: Those are your nieces, nephews and siblings you’re talking about, Cole…

Cole: And I love them but doesn’t mean they don’t suck

Anne: I love you so much Cole, I promise next week it’s on!

Anne dropped her phone on her nightstand, then it buzzed once more, she groaned but picked it up anyway, Josie's name on the screen.

Josie: Ruby’s having a crisis. Waiter guy won’t answer his phone and now she’s on the verge of shaving her head.

Anne: goddamit I just got my period, I’m still on my pj’s!

Josie: We can go to your place? I really don’t want to deal with Ruby on my own...

Anne bit her lip, she had the tendency to lack patience during her periods, but the girls needed her, so she couldn’t say no.

Anne to ‘Golden Trio’: If you guys feel like witnessing some drama Josie’s heading to my place with a "Pink Crisis."

Cole: Fuck, did that waiter broke things off with Ruby already?

Anne: Apparently he’s not answering her texts and Ruby’s about to go crazy.

Cole: I’m in. Anything as long as I can leave the house.

Diana: Sorry, I was talking with Minnie May

Diana: btw I’m in too, let me see if I can take the car and I’ll pick you up @Cole

Cole: Cool, text me when you’re coming.

Anne dropped her phone again, this time on her pillow, and got up to let tell Marilla and Matthew that the girls plus Cole were coming. 

A strange thought came to her as she got up from bed. She felt like there was something missing, something was out of place, or unfinished. Was she supposed to text someone? Had she missed an appointment?

‘A doctor's appointment,’ said a voice at the back of her head.

Anne snorted at the absurdity of that, she knew there was no doctor's appointment scheduled, what the hell was wrong with her? Maybe it was just the hormones...

___________________

Bash was still not over the fact that Gilbert had had a “wet dream” about Moody’s girl and kept teasing whenever he could. It wasn’t Ruby though, Gilbert knew that, somehow.

He was sure that the girl in his dreams had red hair and grey eyes. Or blue, he couldn’t remember well. Either way, as the afternoon went away he started to forget. Sure enough, it’d been nice, he woke up feeling some sort of strange joy for the rest of his shift until it was time to close the diner, then his mind drifted to the dishes he needed to clean and the bills they had to pay.

While Mary was upstairs putting Delly to bed Bash sat next to him on the living room, making sure to mess up the comfortable position Gilbert was in by putting his legs on the boy's lap and laying on the whole lenght of the couch.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re the real twenty-year-old in this house and I’m the parent,” Gilbert rolled his eyes, pushing Bash’s legs away.

“That’s cause you’re always grumpy. You know why you always grumpy, Blythe?” Bash smirked.

“I don’t want to know.”

“It’s because you need to get laid.”

“There we go…”

“Why can’t you be a normal young adult and get one of those apps to hook up?”

“Because everytime I try it, all I think about is how I could end up murdered or sick- Do you want me to die of syphilis, Bash? Is that what you want?”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not that desperate for sex, anyway.”

“I don’t wanna know the context of that sentence at all,” Mary walked in holding a basket full of Delly’s clothes. “But since you have all this free time to talk about your sex life, why don’t you help me with the girl’s stuff and fold them while I make myself a cup of tea?”

“Sure,” Gilbert agreed, happy to change the subject.

___________________

“Am I asking too much? Does god hate me?”

The group groaned in exasperation at Ruby’s inquires.

“I think you should finish your tea and breathe,” Diana said patiently.

“What she needs is to get her shit together and understand that it’s the twenty-first century. No man is going to propose to you after a drunk make-out session, Ruby!” Josie rolled her eyes.

“I know that!” Ruby said defensively. “But he’d been so nice even before that... I thought he liked me!”

“Maybe he does,” Anne said. “You have to remember that it’s Christmas, maybe he’s shopping? Maybe his phone got busted? I don’t know, give him the benefit of the doubt!”

“You know what my advice is,” Cole said simply.

“Yes,” Diana and Anne said at the same time.

“I’m gonna say it anyway. Dump the idiot and live your best life. Why are you trying to have a serious relationship when half of the boys in college are desperately trying to get in your pants?”

“Are you trying to get her pregnant or with syphilis? Because that’s how you do it, that's how you get syphilis,” Anne said crossed her arms. “She doesn’t have to sleep around to be happy! She just needs to be logical!”

“Okay, Dr. Heart, what do you recommend?” Josie huffed.

Anne whined and curled up under the covers. Ruby and Josie were sitting at the edge of her bed while Diana and Cole laid casually on the floor, their heads against the pillows Anne had given them so they weren’t completely flat on the ground.

“I don’t know, I’ve never dated a guy for more than a month.”

“Ew, Roy,” Cole said instantly.

“But maybe… I don’t know, do you have his intagram or something?”

“I do,” Ruby sniffed. “I haven’t checked it cause I didn’t want to look desperate and you know how I always accidentally like old pictures…”

“Facebook?”

“No...”

“If you have his instagram, you have his facebook,” Cole said.

“How come?”

“Give me your phone,” His hand lifted from the ground, Ruby gave it to him.

“Okay, so we decided to go full stalker then,” Josie said bluntly.

“It’s either this or…” Anne stopped herself before saying ‘or hearing Ruby mop for another three hours’ but managed to hold her tongue just in time.

“This is for the best,” Diana replied almost as if talking of a medical procedure.

“Can someone go to the bathroom and fetch me the painkillers?” Anne groaned.

“I’ll go, see if I can drown myself in the toilet,” Josie mumbled. “I can’t believe you guys are my best friends…”

Anne laughed at that. Truth be told, Josie and her weren’t exactly close during their youth, Josie even sort of made her life a living hell for a whole year during Junior high, then some random dude tried to take advantage of her during a school dance and Anne stood up for her in front of the whole school. Josie spent the rest of her highschool years making up for her bad actions by defending Anne from any nasty comments anyone would throw her way.

She kept this up even during college, and Anne would’ve gladly told her it wasn’t necessary if it wasn’t because Josie seemed to get more insulted whenever Anne tried to point it out than if she was actually insulting her.

“You know what I’d love to have right now?” Anne yawned.

“A nap?”

“I’d love to have one of those god awful pancakes they used to make in our highschool’s cafeteria. God, they were awful, but for some reason I’m craving those fucking pancakes...”

“You ever crave flowers?” Diana asked absentmindedly.

“What?” Anne laughed. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you walk past a flower shop and you see a gorgeous bouquet, and then some random day you’re like, ‘Man, I wish I had the bouquet, it’d look amazing on my coffee table'”

“I… no– wow, I think it’s the first time you've beat me, Diana. That was the weirdest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Oh please, you love flowers, you must have felt that way at some point!”

“No, I swear,” Anne sat up. “I mean, maybe because if I see pretty flowers I just buy them, never been one to say no to buying flowers.”

“That’s the reason why our flat always stinks like gardenia, or roses, or lilies…” Cole adds distractedly.

“You know,” Ruby said, a bit calmer than before. “No boy has ever given me a bouquet.”

“That makes two of us,” Anne patted her knee.

“Three,” said Cole.

___________________

“So, Moody got mugged as soon as he left the bus station yesterday,” Gilbert sighed.

“Oh god, is he alright?” Winnie asked through the phone.

Winifred was back in town for the holidays, and she had many stories to tell about Paris and the girls she’d met there. She was one of Gilbert’s best friends from highschool, if not the only he still had from that time apart from Moody.

They were planning to have lunch the next day, but she’d called him to let him know she was home now, safe and sound, and they were chatting the night away.

“Yeah, a black eye and no phone or wallet, but fine,” Gilbert chuckled. “What’s worse is that he’s not even mad about that, he's upset that he won’t be able to text his girl...”

“What?!” She gasped. “I didn’t know Moody had a girlfriend!”

“He doesn’t,” The boy squinted. “Well, I think they saw each other the other night at the bar and they kissed, but I’m not so sure.”

“Right, because you were utterly shit-faced.”

“Yup.”

He heard her laugh.

“I miss you two so much! Honestly, sometimes I feel like french guys lack sense of humor.”

“Oh, but I bet the girls were quite amusing, considering you oficially dated at least two of them throughout the semester,” He teased.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t having fun,” Winnie replied, he could pictured her smirking. “Looks like the only one who’s got no game is Canada’s Golden Boy! What’s the matter, Gilbert? No girl is worthy of your charms? Are you waiting until marriage?”

“Not quite,” He grinned. “I’ve been busy studying, that’s all.”

“I worry about you, don’t want to see you in ten years all grey and grumpy.”

“That's awfully rude, Bash is not grey and he’s ten years older than us!”

“Yeah but I’ve heard that if you don’t have sex you die faster.”

“That’s the biggest slander I’ve ever heard. Don’t try to scare the future Doctor with fake news!”

“Well, future Doctor, I just want to make sure you don’t end up as the spinster of our group. Not that is bad, if you want to be alone that’s cool, but please don’t be a bitter one, you know, like those old librarians?”

“So what should I be then, the old spinster that invites you to have tea every sunday?”

“Yeah, you could even own a coffee shop- oh wait, you do!”

“Rude,” Gilbert frowned, but he was still smiling. “The Orchard is not a coffee shop, just so you know.“

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Winnie chuckled. “See you tomorrow?”

“Totally.”

“Got it!”

___________________

The girls straightened up at Cole’s announcement, all of them excited.

“And?” Diana urged him.

“Good news or bad news?”

“Bad news,” Cole looked up. “He posted this five hours ago…”

He handed the phone to Diana, then she gave it to Anne, there she read the most recent post on his page:

‘Someone stole my phone and wallet, please block the number in the meantime. If you need me you can send a private message here.’

“Could’ve been worse,” Anne gave the phone back to Ruby so she could read what it said.

Ruby sighed heavily.

“He doesn’t hate me.”

“Of course not, you’re a ray of freaking sunshine,” Josie retorted.

“I still think this is god giving you the opportunity to reconsider,” Cole replied. “Don’t commit, Ruby, you’re too young to get married–”

“She won’t get married!” Diana slapped his arm, then hesitated. “Well, at least not anytime soon... right, Ruby?”

“It’s late, children,” Marilla peeked through the door. “You can have dinner here if you want, we have room for all of you, but if you don’t then I suggest you to say your goodbyes now...”

“Thank you Marilla,” Anne smiled. “They’ll be on their way.”

“You can stay the night if you want as well,” Marilla added. “Matthew and I missed the fuss you kids make around the house whenever Anne invites you.”

“That’s so kind, thank you,” Ruby beamed.

Marilla left and Anne turned to look at the group.

“So any of you want to stay?”

“You know I do,” Cole smirked.

“Same,” Josie admitted. “My mom's being a pain right now: ‘Are you dating someone, love?’ ‘Will you ever give me grandchildren?’”

“I’d like to stay too,” Ruby said, deep in thought. “I know he’s not avoiding me, but I really don’t want to sleep alone tonight…”

“You have two younger sisters, Ruby.”

“It’s not the same!”

“See?” Cole said. “Ruby gets it!”

“I’ll have to pass,” Diana sighed. “My dad needs the car tomorrow morning, last minute shopping.”

“We still have next week,” Anne assured her with a small smile.

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​​ @little-boats-on-a-lake

[womansharry]

SHE

Chapter 2 - Who

Juliet's morning started early. Despite the time difference in Rome, she had a hard time sleeping in. At 6:30 her eyes were open and her brain was fast at work, already thinking of all the things she needed to check off her to-do list.

She was staying at the Aleph Rome Hotel. It was such a gorgeous place. She had been to Rome several times before and loved it more and more each time. It certainly had its charm about it.

By 7, she decided to stop scrolling through Pinterest and order coffee and some breakfast. She called down to the front desk. And within 5 minutes there was a knock on the door. She pulled the fluffy white robe tighter around her and went to the door. She pulled it open; a short middle-aged man was on the other side. He gave her a warm smile as he pushed the cart into her room.

"Buongiorno signora." Juliet's Italian wasn't the best. She could piece words together, but to speak and understand it fluently was lost on her.

Juliet returned the smile. "Buongiorno. Grazie." He gave her a curt nod and turned around, leaving the room. She picked up her coffee cup and the plate with her croissant and walked out to the terrace. One thing that Juliet had loved ever since she was a little girl was traveling. Whether it was a trip to the Hamptons for the weekend or a 3-week European vacation. She loved packing her things in a suitcase and exploring different places. Places that were different than New York City. And as she had gotten older, the thrill of traveling alone had become something that she loved more than almost anything in the world. The freedom of being by yourself and getting to see the world the way you wanted to was beautiful to Juliet.

She sat down with her coffee and her mind wandered to the reason she was in Rome in the first place. It had been a bit of a surprise to her when Alessandro Michele had reached out to her not long after the Met Gala. He had told her that he was disappointed that the two of them didn't get to talk in person, but he wanted her to do a feature on her website for the upcoming Gucci Cruise show which was being held in Rome at Capitoline Museums. She had eagerly accepted his offer and now here she was. Spending three days in Rome before heading back home for meetings.

She sat her coffee down on the table and went back into her room to get her computer. She decided that she would work for a little bit, then she'd do a bit of shopping in the area before going to the show later.

She had meet with two investors last week about launching her own collection. She wanted to create a capsule wardrobe of sorts, timeless pieces; the kind of pieces that could be worn around the world. The investors had been interested. Once she was back in NYC they would be meeting with her again.

After sending more than 20 emails, finishing up an article on some of her favorite looks from Paris Fashion Week, and ordering a new dress from Net-A-Porter, she went in to change her clothes. She threw on a white bodysuit, a patterned midi skirt, and white sneakers. She threw her hair into a low bun, making a mental note that she had to be back at the hotel soon because it desperately needed a wash before the show.

As she was walking out the door she grabbed her bag and sunglasses. The outfit that she would wear to the show was hanging in the closet. The garment bag was adorned with the word Gucci. Inside was a black velvet blouse and a pair of yellow wide-legged trousers. This outfit was out of her comfort zone but it intrigued her. She'd be wearing it with a pair of black Gucci heels.

Juliet ventured out onto Via di San Basilio and checked her phone. It was 9:45. She wandered off to her left. She took in the sights, the men and women bustling around her speaking to one another in Italian, the gray pavers that were placed haphazardly together to make a sidewalk, the bright hues of the buildings against the soft blue of the sky.

She passed cathedrals, little shops that barely seemed big enough to hold a few customers, and huge ornate water fountains.

Finally, she arrived on Via del Corso. She was going to a few shops and then she'd grab lunch and be on her way back to the hotel. Zara was the first store that Juliet went into.

She didn't spend much money or time in Zara. She picked up a pair of gold hoop earrings and a white silk cami. She wandered into a few locally owned stores. She admired getting to visit other countries and experiencing other cultures. There was truly nothing in the world like it.

As she started heading back in the direction of the hotel, she stopped in a small cafe for pizza. It was before noon and the cafe wasn't crowded at all. There was an elderly couple sitting by the door ogling at one another. And at the next table was a mother and her two toddlers. Juliet smiled at the patrons and ordered two slices of pizza.

She got back to the hotel at 12:30. And the show wasn't until 8. She knew she needed to be at the museum early. Alessandro had put her in contact with a wonderful lady name Nicolette. She had lined up someone to do Juliet's hair and makeup before the show.

Juliet fell down onto the soft bed once she was back in her hotel room. She took some time to scroll through her Instagram feed. She looked back at her pictures from the Met Gala. It had only been 2 weeks ago.

Then her thoughts went to Harry. Harry. The one that she hadn't seen or heard from since the after party. She had hoped that he would reach out. But, he hadn't. And as much as Juliet wanted to hear from him, she was scared to make the first move.

___

At 4:15, there was a knock on Juliet's hotel door. She opened it. There was a man holding a large suitcase and a woman holding one just as big.

"Hello! I'm Gianni and this is Isabella. We're here for hair and makeup." He said politely. His English was good, but his accent was thick.

"Come in, it's nice to meet you two. I'm Juliet."

"Let's get to it, shall we!" Gianni exclaimed, digging into the suitcase he had brought and pulling out a hairdryer.

___

Juliet took one last look in the mirror. She had ordered some food up to her room for an early dinner. Gianni had done her hair is loose waves and Isabella had done the makeup in a soft glam look. Juliet decided to wear the gold hoops that she had bought earlier. She was so pleased with the look. She took her phone out and snapped a mirror selfie. She quickly uploaded it to her Instagram.

She had ordered an Uber and when she emerged onto the street, the car was sitting there. The drive to the museum was only 15 minutes. Once she arrived she made her way inside the grade hallways. It was amazing to see the art around her and know that soon she would be experiencing a fashion show, which was her favorite art form.

She was sat beside two younger girls that looked to be about her age. They were deep in conversation in French.

Juliet looked up and admired the sculptures around her. She glanced down the hallway and could have sworn she saw Harry. Even though Juliet had only met him once, she could tell that Harry's presence was electric. He walked into a room and everyone knew it.

Eventually the seats filled up. And there was no sign of Harry. Her mind must have been playing tricks on her. She sighed, disappointed that he wasn't there.

At 8 pm the lights went out and the show began. It was incredible. Probably one of her favorites that she had attended in person. After the show, was the after party.

When Alessandro has talked with Juliet, he had personally invited her to the after party. He wanted to meet her in person.  So, after the show was over Juliet made her way over to Palazzo Brancaccio.

She was swept up in a whirlwind once she entered the lounge. She talked with several people, drank champagne and danced a little. At some point she felt someone touch her shoulder.

"Juliet?" She turned around to see the kind face of Alessandro Michele.

"Alessandro, it's a pleasure. The show was wonderful. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. I really can't wait to write about it." He beamed at her.

"Thanks, you are too kind. It's nice to finally meet you. I'm glad that you'll be doing a piece on it. Are you enjoying Rome?" She nodded.

"Yes! I love it here, unfortunately I'm flying back home tomorrow night. I've got a few business meetings in New York coming up."

"I know how you feel. Well, it was nice to meet you. Please, enjoy yourself and have a safe trip home. We'll talk soon." He hugged her quickly and was whisked away.

The lights went dim and there was a sound like someone talking in a microphone. Juliet wasn't standing far from the stage. She moved so she could see a bit better and she couldn't believe it. Harry was there, he was standing on stage. He was standing on stage with the one and only Stevie Nicks.

She stood there for a while with a goofy smile on her face. She was so happy to see him. As he was singing "Stop Dragging My Heart Around" with Stevie, his eyes met hers. His smile grew.

They sang for a little while longer and once their set was over, Juliet set out for the open bar.

"Jules, I didn't know you'd be 'ere." His voice sent electricity down her spine. She spun on her heels and came face to face with the man she had been thinking about for two weeks.

"I didn't know you'd be here either." She smiled at him.

"'M glad 'm here. Got to see you." His eyes were sparkling.

"You're quite the rockstar, Harry. On stage singing with Stevie Nicks." Juliet grinned and moved closer to him.

"Don't tell me that, 's bad for my ego and all." He gave her a devilish grin in returned. She chuckled.

"Can I tell you something Harry?"

"Anything ya want,"

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since the Met Gala." He looked up at her with a smile.

"Funny, I was hoping I'd 'ave the chance to see ya again. To talk to ya, look at ya. Do ya wanna get out of 'ere? We can go anywhere ya want."

Juliet felt a jolt of excitement. She looked him over, his brown curly hair, his green eyes hiding behind a pair of oversized pink sunglasses, his cream colored suit, it contrasted beautifully with his tan skin. He looked so good. But best of all, he seemed at ease and happy.

"You know what, I would love that."

"Come on then, love." He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd of people.

______ read chapter 3 here!