#i see people on god's internet every day that make me want to hold their heads gently in my hands and say

[themme--fatale]

I'm not a psychologist, but if I were I would be chomping at the bit to run a study on how the trauma of the pandemic has normalized a lot of disordered thinking around hygiene and cleanliness. the number of people I've seen on tiktok spouting opinions that are just straight up contamination OCD to the near-unanimous support of the comment sections makes me scream. Accept a little grime into your world. it's okay.

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[starkwlkr]

baby on the loose | charles leclerc

“She won’t get lost, I’ll hold her hand the entire time.”

y/n heard Charles say as she got her daughter ready for the day. It was a Sunday, the US Grand Prix to be exact. Her daughter, Ruby, or as the internet knew her by baby leclerc, was going through that phase where she was curious about everything so she wanted to explore as much as she could. That meant y/n was having panic attacks every minute because the little girl wanted to explore every single thing.

“You’re going to be busy, love. We’ll just be in your driver’s room, right Ruby?” y/n asked the girl, who was too busy playing with her toy cars that her uncle carlos bought her.

“But I want our daughter to see me race. This is her first Grand Prix, mon amour.” Charles begged. He wanted his daughter to finally see him race. Before, Ruby had only seen him race through the tv.

“I know how much this means to you so fine. We’ll watch from the garage.” y/n smiled at her husband. His lips turned into a huge smile when he heard that his little girl was finally going to see him race.

“You hear that, ruby? You’re going to see papa race!” Charles looked down to where ruby was supposed to be, but the little girl wasn’t there playing with her cars like she was before.

“That sneaky little girl. Ruby!” Y/n yelled as she looked everywhere for the girl. She then heard giggles coming from underneath the bed.

“Where is my baby?” Charles called out. He then waited a few seconds until Ruby popped out from under the bed with a smile on her face.

“Here!” She said excitedly then threw herself onto Chares. “I’m here papa.”

“There’s my big girl. Listen, you and maman are going to see me race. Isn’t that exciting?” Charles pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead.

“Race this car?” Ruby pointed to the car that had fallen to the ground.

“A much bigger version of this car, mon chérie. It’s bigger than you! But you have to promise me one thing. You’re going to stay with maman. No running off because where papa races there will be many people and we don’t want you to get lost. Okay? Stay with your mother and then we can go get ice cream when papa wins the race.”

Ruby was a little girl, she didn’t really listen to anything Charles had said until he mentioned the word ice cream. So when the family made it to the paddock, the girl was impatient. All she wanted was to wander around, but her mom wouldn’t let her.

“Okay, I have to go. I’ll see you two after. I love you.” Charles kissed his wife’s lips then crouched down to his daughters level. “Remember stay with your mother.”

“Ice cream after?” Ruby smiled

“Yes, Ruby, ice cream after.” Charles kissed ruby on the cheek then waved goodbye to his family.

y/n waved goodbye, but squinted her eyes since the bright sun was blinding her. “Where are my sunglasses? Ruby, come here so mama can put sunscreen on you.” y/n opened her bag to find her sunglasses then the bottle of sunscreen for Ruby. As she put on her sunglasses, y/n opened up the bottle of sunscreen, ready to smear some on ruby’s face, but when the mom looked down the little girl was gone.

“Ruby? Oh god, not right now. Ruby!” Y/n stuffed the sunscreen back into her bag and began her search for her daughter.

In reality, Ruby didn’t go that far. While her mom was saying goodbye to her dad, Ruby saw her uncle pierre walk by so she ran to him as fast as her little legs could take her. But the thing with ruby was that she was easily distracted so before she could even make it to Pierre, she saw a woman walk by wearing her orange mclaren shirt that reminded her of the one she had seen her uncle Daniel wear several times on tv so she followed the woman just to tell her that her uncle Daniel had the exact same shirt.

“So Daniel, any pre race rituals for today?”

Ruby didn’t know where she was. All she heard was some woman talking to Daniel. Her uncle Daniel.

“Just same old rituals…”

“Uncle Daniel!” Ruby yelled, but the Aussie driver couldn’t hear her little yells over all the commotion in the paddock.

Ruby quit her attempts at trying to get Daniel’s attention so she continued her adventures wherever her legs took her. That’s basically how she ended up in the Red Bull garage listening to Christian Horner talk to his team.

From the corner of his eye, Christian spotted the little girl paying attention to him as if she knew what he was talking about. “And who might you be, young lady?”

“Ruby Jules Louise Leclerc. I think.” Ruby replied which got a laugh from Christian and the rest of the Red Bull team.

“You think?” The team principal asked.

“I can’t remember which one goes first, but my dad and mom call me ruby. But I like Jules better. It sounds pretty.” Ruby admitted.

“It is pretty. You’ve got a very pretty name. And where’s your mother?” Christian questioned. he had met the girl’s mom before, but he couldn’t spot her anywhere.

“I don’t know. I saw uncle Pierre and i wanted to say hi to him but then I saw a lady with the same shirt uncle Daniel has and then I saw uncle Daniel but he didn’t see me and now I’m here talking to you.” The girl explained.

“Ah, I see. Your mother must be looking for you. Come on.” Christian took the girl’s hand and led her out the Red Bull garage.

“Where are we going?” Ruby asked.

“To get you back to your parents.”

“Can we get ice cream first?”

And that’s how Christian Horner ended up in the Ferrari garage.

“I believe I caught one of your tiny spies in my garage, Leclerc.” Christian announced as he brought the young girl to her dad, who was talking with his teammate.

“He gave me ice cream!” Ruby showed her dad the ice cream cone that Christian bought her.

“Where where you been?” Charles picked up his daughter.

Ruby shrugged and continued eating her ice cream. “My guess is that the little one ran off so y/n is probably freaking out looking for her. Kelly was with me when I bought her the ice cream. She told me she would text y/n that Ruby was found and that I was bringing her back to you.” Christian explained.

“I made a friend, daddy, her name is Penelope but her mama calls her P. We got ice cream together.” Ruby said.

“Ruby, you shouldn’t run off like that. What did I tell you?” Charles asked.

“That we would get ice cream.”

“Wow, Perceval.” Carlos laughed. “I mean, no ruby listen to your dad.”

“I said to stay with maman and you didn’t.” Charles frowned.

“This is a big place for a little girl like you, Ruby Jules.” Christian said to the girl.

“She told you her whole name?” Charles asked.

Christian nodded. “She says she prefers Jules because it’s pretty.”

“Like uncle Jules!” Ruby said with a smile. That made Charles crack a smile.

“Yes, just like uncle Jules. Thank you Christian.” Charles said to the Red Bull team principal.

“No problem. And you, little lady, stay out of trouble and stop spying on me. I know you’re a working with Ferrari so your dad can win. I’ve got my eye on you.” Christian played along as he left the Ferrari garage.

“I’m a spy, daddy!” Ruby giggled as Charles put her on the ground.

“Yeah? Well little miss spy, let’s go find maman and tell her you’re okay so she doesn’t have a heart attack.”

“Uncle Carlos, you want ice cream?” Ruby asked the Spanish man.

“I’m okay, cariño. Come on, let’s go find your mama.”

Yeah, it was a chaotic start to Ruby’s first Grand Prix. One that she will always remember.

[mintseung]

School Boyfriend —L.H.S

⑅ Pairings LeeHeeseung! X fem!reader

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG Who accidentally threw a basketball at your head, and the second you both looked each other in the eye, he fell in love with your beauty.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG Who tried to approach you the next day to apologize, but the real reason was that he wanted to talk to you.

"H-hey," Heeseung stammered as he gently tapped your shoulder, hoping to catch your attention. "Uh, hi?" you replied, turning to face him with a curious expression. "I'm really sorry about yesterday at the school gym," he apologized sincerely, offering you an ice pack to ease any lingering discomfort.

"It's okay, honestly, it's not a big deal," you reassured him with a warm smile as you accepted the ice pack. "Uh, what if I make it up to you by taking you out somewhere?" Heeseung asked tentatively, his nerves palpable as he looked down at his shoes, his heart pounding louder than ever.

"Oh, okay. Where do you have in mind?" you responded, intrigued and smiling encouragingly.

"Well, there's this newly opened café just close to our school," he suggested, trying to contain his excitement despite the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"Mhm, sounds great," you agreed, closing your locker. "I'll see you then." With a final smile, you turned and walked away, leaving Heeseung with a mixture of relief and anticipation swirling in his chest.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who spent hours in his closet, meticulously searching for the perfect outfit. He tried on various combinations, each time glancing at himself in the mirror, practicing the best smile to greet you. He rehearsed how to speak confidently in front of you, wanting every word to be just right.

Turning to the internet for guidance, he searched for "how to act like a gentleman in front of your crush," absorbing tips and tricks. Seeking reassurance, he also consulted his friends, gathering advice on how to make a lasting impression.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who walks you back to your house.

While walking, Heeseung noticed an ice cream shop on your way back home. "Hey, want some ice cream?" he asked, looking at you with hope in his eyes, wishing that you would say yes. "Oh, sure! Thank you!" you replied with a smile.

"Here you go," he said, smiling as he handed you the ice cream.

"Wow, mint chocolate chip?! How did you know I love this flavor!" you exclaimed, smiling widely. "You mentioned it to me a while ago while we were eating," he said, chuckling softly.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG Who loves waiting for you after class so the two of you can walk home together.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who comes with you in the library to study together.

"Baby~" he pouted beside you, "I need kisses to make my brain function," he whined, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Hee, We're in a public place," you glared at him.

"I don't care," he interrupted before grabbing your chin and kissing you passionately. You gently pushed him away and hit his shoulder while looking around. "God, Lee Heeseung," you exclaimed, catching his eye with a smirk.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG Who sends you food in your classroom if you don't come out for lunch.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who puts a picture of you in his I.D letting people know he's taken.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who gets really clingy when he drinks to much.

"I love you so much" heeseung giving you a bunch of kisses in your face.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who gives you his jersey so you won't be worried girls will come over him.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who holds your things even tho you didn't asked him to.

SCHOOL BOYFRIEND HEESEUNG who helps you with your homework whenever you don't know how to answer it.

[perfectlyoongi]

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who didn’t believe in long-distance relationships until he met you. how was it possible to maintain a loving relationship when kilometers separated you? how could you show love and devotion if you were separated by screens? it was impossible to love someone you had never been with. it was impossible to love someone without really knowing them. so how were people falling into this trap and deluding themselves with fake love? how co— wait. but you… you were different, weren’t you? you managed to attract Taehyung. you managed to make Taehyung question his entire sense of reality. but you weren’t there. you were in another world. but still… in a way, you. “tell me what spell you cast on me. i want to get rid of this curse and talk to you again without thinking about how much i need to be with you.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who always has a virtual date planned for you every month. Taehyung was a romantic by nature and, with you two being worlds apart, he had to find another way to express all his love and devotion to you. thank god there are several museums with online visits; thank god there were chat rooms with different games for you; thank god we lived in a time where the internet was the answer to all our prayers. once a month, Taehyung would take you to see and experience the world without leaving the comfort of your home, always guaranteeing and promising that one day all those experiences of yours would be lived in person next to him. “today we see this museum through our screens, but there will be a day when i will be able to take a photo of you next to your favorite piece of art just so you can see which of you is truly a masterpiece.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who writes down all the dreams he has about you in a notebook. Taehyung’s mind was in constant motion when he slept, taking him on complex adventures and strange expeditions. and, in so many wild dreams, it was almost a certainty that you would pay Taehyung one or two visits; and it was these adventures that Taehyung remember the most, sharing some of the happiness he had felt in the dream in real life. but the dreams were so many and quite confusing that before telling you, Taehyung needed to write down each moment of the dream in a notebook, making sure that nothing was missed and that everything was perfectly clarified. “this dream is going to be a little confusing, so pay attention. you were at the top of one of egypt’s pyramids, but instead of sand there was only water. so, i showed up there in a little hot air balloon and…”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who becomes desperate with the distance between you. Taehyung swore he would start banging his head against the walls just to ease the pain he felt in his chest. why were you so far away? what cruelty did Taehyung do in a past life to be suffering immensely in this reality? would the gods be upset that Taehyung loved you more than they loved their immortality? were the stars jealous of all the memories you shared from past lives? would the universe itself be resentful because your and Taehyung’s love was purer than any of its creations? how could Taehyung live every day if you were so far away from him? he just wanted to hug you, kiss you, hold you in his arms, make you happy and make you feel loved and important. and he only wanted you. there. beside him. in this life. was this too much to ask for? “i swear to you that i’m this close to getting on a plane to go see you. i don’t care about my work and i don’t care about my friends. i just want you, i just need you. urgently.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who never says goodbye to you. it was a small habit of Taehyung’s, a small detail that always weighed on your mind: why did he never say goodbye to you when you finished talking? when you realized this little curiosity, you went to talk to Taehyung, a little interested in the possible answer he could give you. but, out of so many scenarios you created in your mind, none of them matched the reality of the facts. it was with a serious and expressionless look, completely offended by your question, that Taehyung answered you, giving a little clarity to your heart. “our story is not over yet. why should i say goodbye to it?”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who offers you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his perfume. when the distance was crueler and there was a need to feel close to each other, Taehyung would ask you to spray the stuffed bear he offered you with his perfume. in a way, that idea of Taehyung managed to deceive your poor heart; when you hugged that bear with Taehyung’s scent, your heart fell into the illusion that you were next to Taehyung and, for small seconds, everything was okay. “i know i’m far away, that’s why i offer you this bear. it may not be very big, but when you spray my perfume, it becomes part of me.”

LONG-DISTANCE!TAEHYUNG who bought you a weekend in your dream city to meet you for the first time. when Taehyung showed you your flight tickets for the same day and the same city, you didn’t understand his idea; it took Taehyung to say that he would wait for you for you to understand that small gesture from him. he had remembered that city you so wanted to visit. not only that, but he also remembered the dates of your vacation. and booked a short stay in that city on your vacations. a stay with Taehyung. you were going to be together for the first time in that city that called you so much. your dream was about to begin. “just a few more weeks, my love, and then we can be infinite.”

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Red Flags

Oh my god I've been so burnt out I'm so so sorry but I WROTE SOMETHING FINALLY

“Right, so…” Lily starts, settling down in front of the others with a coffee in hand, “what are we thinking?”

“I have a feeling we’re all thinking the same thing,” Mary says, shaking their head to themself. As Lily glances around, everyone nods in agreement.

Remus Lupin has terrible taste in men.

It’s an infamous fact among the group, really. Somehow, Remus manages to find every weird, rude, and downright horrible man on the face of the earth. He's not stupid, but he is impressively good at ignoring all of the warning signs. Lily remembers, more than once or twice, picking up the pieces, shouting at the exes, even stopping Remus from taking them back. It always sucks to see him that upset, and Lily just couldn't take it anymore.

So, they've developed a system.

It involves a lot of internet stalking, going through social media after social media, looking for pieces of evidence, things they can mention directly to the guy in question. If they can figure out if they're exactly the same as the others, which they usually are, they can scare him away before it’s too late. Remus isn't exactly… aware, of their system, but it works, and they need it to keep working. It's better that Remus is a little upset that his boyfriend of two weeks has ghosted him, rather than a painful betrayal.

This newest guy, though? They can't find anything.

“You’d think someone with the name Sirius fucking Black would have something slightly shady on his socials!” Marlene says with a groan.

“I mean, the name’s red flag enough, right? Everyone knows the Black family,” Peter says, but James is intervening before anyone has a chance to agree.

“Hold on, they essentially got rid of him five years ago. I don't know that we can still hold his name against him.”

Yeah, that makes sense. Unfortunately.

“Okay, well… what does he do for a living?” Mary tries, only to get a good few shrugs.

For someone who posts ten times a day, this guy is really quite quiet about his private life.

“I think he's a doctor,” Peter says eventually. “That’s what I found when I looked him up. Pediatric Surgeon?”

“Oh, so he literally saves kids lives,” Marlene says, exasperatedly throwing her hands in the air. “I'm sorry, he can't be Mr Perfect! This isn't how Remus works!”

Lily wants to say that maybe it is, maybe he's turning a corner, but she bites her tongue. They don't actually know anything real, anything substantial, about this guy. All they know is that he grew up in a very prominent family, and can build a careful social media presence. That means nothing.

They need to dig deeper.

“You know what this means, right?” Lily says grimly. “We have to meet him.”

Remus knows exactly what his friends are up to.

They think they're so brilliant at hiding their little… background checks on anyone he even so much as mentions wanting to date. Well, he can't exactly blame them. He's dated some absolutely horrendous people, and he knows that. Showing up at Lily’s as a crying mess wasn't exactly his finest moment, so he gets why they're so concerned.

Sirius, though? God, they’re never going to have to worry again. For a good few weeks, Remus had thought he'd made Sirius up. He's never fallen for someone as quickly as he's fallen for Sirius, even though they're taking everything so slowly. Honestly, he'd move in with Sirius tomorrow, if he asked, but Sirius is too good to ask that so soon.

That doesn't stop Sirius from panicking a little, as Remus keeps setting the table for dinner with his friends.

“What if they hate me? I mean, what if I set a really bad impression and they hate me forever-?”

“They definitely won't hate you. Believe me, you'll click with them. Especially James. I have a feeling he's going to love you.”

James is always the most supportive. He at least tells Remus before the others start to interrogate them.

“But what if-”

“Hey, don't panic.” Remus reaches out and takes both of Sirius’ hands in his. It sends a little thrill through him, the way Sirius’ breath catches in his throat. “Just… don't feel intimidated when they start asking too many questions, and you'll be fine.” Sirius nods once, and Remus squeezes his hands reassuringly.

There’s a knock at the door before they can kiss.

Remus groans as Sirius drops his head onto Remus' shoulder. He takes a breath and takes a step away, as Remus tries to quash the nerves. He knows how much they're going to love Sirius, but it isn't really helping. He doesn't want them freaking him out and scaring him off.

Still, it's too late to give them all the boot now, so, with a slight hesitance, he accepts his fate and opens the door.

“Hey, guys! You’re all here… at the same time,” he says, sticking a perplexed expression on his face. Mary smiles brightly as Remus steps aside to let them all in.

“What a coincidence, right?”

They’re really bad at hiding things.

James is the last one in, and Remus holds him back quickly.

“Please tell me they're not grilling him. Sirius is nervous enough.” He knows the answer already, but James shrugging apologetically only confirms it.

“They didn't find anything online. You know what that means.” Remus nods once, trying to bite back a groan. “They're doing it because they care.”

“I know. Just… please give him a chance. He's… Prongs, he’s amazing.” He watches James’ face soften, and it gives him the slightest glimmer of hope.

Maybe this'll be okay.

“So, Sirius…” Marlene starts, the moment they all settle at the table.

God, it's already starting.

“What’s your favourite thing about our Remus?”

Honestly, Remus is pretty sure that's a tricky question. He's never seen anyone answer it right. There's always something wrong with the answer. It almost feels like a cruel start.

“Oh, wow, I don't think I could pick!” Sirius says with a smile. “I mean, unless you let me pick everything,” he adds with a wink. It draws a smile out of Remus, and James is already positively beaming. The others, though, exchange a confused glance.

“What, so you can't think of anything?” Peter says disbelievingly.

“Oh, I just meant- I think everything about him is amazing.”

A blush immediately spreads it's way across Sirius’ face and, oh, Remus could look at him forever; could watch his face turn rosy until the end of time.

“What d’you think of his writing? Y’know, his breakout piece on euthanasia?” Lily asks, resting her chin in her hands.

“I thought his breakout piece was his intersectionality one?” Remus turns to him, stunned. He didn't even know Sirius had read any of his articles.

He's also right.

Christ, he must be ticking some kind of box for his friends.

“Right, this is stupid,” Mary interrupts Remus’ train of thought, and he's already dreading whatever they're about to say. “If you have any intentions of hurting him, we’ll quite literally kill you.”

“Mary!” Remus says quickly, his hand reaching out to grab Sirius’.

“No, he needs to hear this!”

“Why? Because you couldn't find anything when you looked him up?”

It's enough for the group to lapse into silence.

“Listen.” Remus forces himself to take a breath and slow down. “I know why you do all of this, and I get it. Really, I do. I appreciate how much you care. Sirius, though, he's… guys, he's wonderful. You don't have to worry this time.”

James nods, Mary also seemingly placated. The others, though, turn to Sirius.

Yeah, that makes sense.

“Honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I wouldn't dream of hurting him. I'm falling in love with him more every single day-” He cuts himself off with wide eyes, immediately turning to Remus.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

“You love me?” Remus asks. It's almost like his friends just… vanish, in that moment. All he can see is Sirius, sitting beside him, telling him that he loves him.

“Shit, I didn't mean to say it like that!” Sirius groans, his face reddening by the second.

Okay, accidentally telling him that he loves him.

“I wanted to plan something nice, think of the right thing to say, not just- God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this-” He buries his head into his hands, muffling his panicked rambling.

“Sirius?” He tries quietly. Sirius just shakes his head minutely. It's really bloody endearing.

Remus is going to have to go about this differently.

Slowly, gently, he reaches out and pries Sirius’ hands from his face. He lets himself lace his fingers through Sirius’, as their eyes meet and Remus’ stomach flips.

“I love you, Sirius,” he says softly. “Christ, how could I not?”

Sirius’ face brightens in an instant, and Remus can't help but beam right back at him. He can practically feel the tension in the room lift.

He has a feeling his friends won't be worrying about him anymore.

[igotanidea]

Ranking: Jason Todd x fem!reader

graphic by @huedmmi (amazing job with that, thank you!!)

Summary: heroes couples ranking? Might seem like a good idea, but not every pair can make the top......

This is placed in the Ego!verse, cause been a while since I wrote for that. You can find other stories of this verse in my masterlist.

***

„What are you doing?”

„Reading.”

“What are you reading?”

“NOTHING!”

Jason sneaked behind her back, trying to sneak a peek of the article on the Internet Y/N was reading. However, all the time she spend being in the relationship with him and her vigilante instincts combined made her act quick enough to shut the laptop before he could see as much as one letter.

Jason smirked

“Oh, you’re hiding something.”

“What?” she scoffed “I’m not hiding anything.”

“You can’t lie to me, you know it.” He teased leaning forward, their faces inches away from one another

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” she moved even closer “Sorry not sorry, but it’s not working.”

“Well then maybe I just have to keep convincing you…..?”

“I’m the one playing with minds, not you, remember?”

“Come on princess….. just tell me what you’re hiding…..”

“Nope.”

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be a tease.”

“Have you met me?” she smirked “Tease is practically my middle name.”

“Please?”

“No.” she cut him off “now stop whining, get up and let’s go.”

“Where exactly?”

“Batcave, duh! Did you think I was asking you for a date, or something?” she raised an eyebrow, looking at him teasingly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it……”

He didn’t like the idea of going to the manor for the debriefing, but….. there might be someone who could help him digging some information out.

***

“Drake. I need to talk to you.”

“Mhm….” Tim muttered not really paying attention, his head elsewhere “How about we reschedule that for next month? I’m busy…..” he tried to take a sip of coffee, but before the god’s drink found a way to his mouth, Jason snatched it out of his hands.

“Drake!”

“Give me back my coffee, Todd……”

“Not before you help me.”

“And why should I do that?”

Jason sighed in frustration. On one hand he could just tell Tim was this was about. On the other that would mean showing his vulnerable side and that was a no go. So he just settled on standing in Tim’s room, holding his mug of out his reach, considering pros and cons of each option.

“It’s about Y/N.” Jason finally said, relenting “I’m worried about her.”

“About Y/N? Why? She’s a tough one. I mean, she;s in a relationship with you, I don’t think much can break her.”

“I’m serious, Tim. You may not notice this, but lately she’s been acting… closed off. She’s…. sad.”

“Sad? Cracking jokes left and right? Two days ago she almost made Dick fall off the rooftop telling one of her funny stories.”

“Please tell me it was not a story about me…..?”

“Nope. Those are not funny anymore and she found a lot funnier subjects. Nevermind… Tim shook his head. The point is, she’s acting normal. Why would you be concerned? Wait. Why would you be concerned?

“Cause she’s my girlfriend!”

“Oh…. You do care….” Tim smiles

“Shut up!”

“You want my help or not?”

“If you helping me require me admitting I care about her…….” Jason sighed “Fine, I do. I do care about her. Please, help me?”

“Of course, I’ll help you Jason.” Tim grinned knowing well enough he just got Jason right where he wanted him “and just so you know, it’s not a secret you love her.”

“Shut up…..”

“Fine! Fine!” Tim laughed at Jason’s flustered face “What’s the deal?”

“Y/N…..” Jason said her name with the mix of affection and worry “she’s been spending a lot of time in front of her computer, lately. She claims she’s reading. And I believe her. But whatever article it is, she’s been spending her time on, makes her distracted. It’s almost like she’s been avoiding me for some reason I cannot fucking understand. She’s lost in her head!”

“The girl is a mind reader, Jason. She can hear people’s thoughts. Is this really so surprising that she’s had enough?”

“Yeah, she had those…. Phases. But it’s not like that. She;s only like that because of what she found on the net.”

“Ok… Let’s assume I believe you. But what do I have to do with it?”

Jason muttered something incoherently.

“Sorry, what was that?” Tim chuckled

“I want you to break into her computer……”

“You what now?!”

“I need you to…..”

“Oh no, I heard you. You want me to hack your girlfriend’s computer. It’s just I can’t comprehend what got into your head.”

“I’m kind of desperate…..And you’re the expert on tech…..”

“I’m not buying into this…….” Tim laughs

“Come on, Drake!”

“Not a chance, Jason. Again. Y/N is a mind reader. She’ll find out what we did in a heartbeat. And I don’t want to have my brain grilled. I saw her in action, I know what it means to make her angry. “

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Y/N…..” Jason mocks

“You are terrified of making her angry yourself…..”

“Ok, fine! She can be scary…… Fuck! You’re no use, Drake!” Jason jumped to his feet, rushing out of Tim’s room, fists clenched, muttering something under his nose.

“It was nice to see you too, Todd!” Tim laughed. He always found it funny how Jason acted under the influence of emotions.

***

“Grayson!”

“Jaybird!” Dick grinned at Jason, the second the latter came through the door to the kitchen “came for some brothers’ bonding?”

“more like binding” Jason rolled his eyes “unless you’ll help me.”

“You must be truly desperate to come to me for help…..”

“Oh, God… have you been watching Thor again?”

“I had a whole marathon. But sure, I’ll give you a hand with whatever you need. What is this about?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N? What about her?”

“Oh, fuck, not you too. Am I really the only person who noticed she’s been acting off lately? Are you fucking serious?!”

“Um…..relax Jace?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to relax seeing my girlfriend hurting?!”

“And it’s my fault?!” Dick exclaimed with shock in his voice.

“NO! Yes! Wait, is it?” Jason took a step towards Dick “what did you do to her Dickhead!?”

“Nothing! I swear!”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then why won’t she talk to me?!”

“I don’t know! Come on Jace! Don’t get crazy again.”

“Talk to her.” Jason said, calming down. As much as it hurt him to admit it, he was acting erratic and he didn’t want to be aggressive. Not again. Those days were behind him. “Please, just talk to her.”

“Why me?”

“Cause you’re the only person I can trust to do this without making her suspicious. And because she won’t talk to me.”

“Jason…. She’s a mind reader….”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that today. Thank you.” Jason mocks “I kind of remember!”

“Wait…..” dick eyes grow wide…. “I might……”

“You might what, Grayson?!”

“I might know what this is about…..” Dick muttered slowly, but seeing Jason furious expression, with his eyes burning he picked up the talking pace at once “ok, so there’s this little site with superheroes couples ranking…..”

“WHAT!?”

“I mean, not that I read it…..”

“Sure you’re not Dickhead…..”

“But Barbara…. She’s actually a fan. And so it Lois …..”

“Lois? As in Lois Lane?”

“Yeah….. it’s actually pretty popular amongst the girls… I mean, it’s not any ambitious writing on anything like that but when you need something to relax and unwind after a hard day…..Steph and Cass read it too and we spend last evening going thought it and gossiping and……” Dick started rambling “sorry. Not the point.”

“Make the point then….” Jason had to fight the urge to punch his adoptive brother in the face.

“Um…. Me and Babs….. I mean, Nightwing and Batgirl  might have scored first last week……  And I might have slipped a word about it to Y/N…..”

“You scored first?”

“Yeah…..” Dick smiled wildly “I mean we are a really, really good couple but I never thought we could beat Clark and Lois to the first position. Sure, I also might have did some things to catch press attention, but still I ……”

“Grayson, I am warning you…..”Jason hissed

“Sorry. Long story short…. The news got to Y/N. and you know her. She’s the investigator. She started digging and found the site and now she’s been kind of addicted to it, checking it out every week hoping Red Hood and Ego will make it to the list, but…..”

“But what?” Jason asked but he already sensed the answer.

“You did not…..”

“So what you are telling me, is that you scored first, and I didn’t even make the first …. Ten?”

“Fifty……”

“I didn’t make the top 50?!!”

“I’m not the one making those rankings! Stop yelling at me!”

“That’s why she’s been so sad? Was she disappointed? let down?” Jason asked. What he did not form out loud was the question whether she felt unloved? Because of some crazy internet ranking. “I gotta go talk to her…..”

“Yeah…. You should….That might clear the air. You know, honesty is really important. And honest is, I scored FIRST!”

“We’ll talk about that later, Dickhead. I got more important things to do now.”

***

“Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Jace. What’s up?”

“I know what you’ve been reading.”

“You know what?”

“Stop it”

“Ok, fine.” She sighed “I’m going to kill Grayson for spilling the bean. “

“Sorry princess, but he’s mine. But now… about this … stupid ranking thing… is that really making you this sad? Are you…. Unsatisfied with our relationship?” he asked, all his insecurity and vulnerability coming out in waves. He doubted him his entire life. He always thought that Y/N was too good for him and one day she would just …. leave. And now, it was practically coming true……”

“what?” judging by the tone she became terrified of what he was asking her. “Jace….baby….” she dived into his arms, hugging him tight. What got into your stupid pretty head, you dummy? I love you… I love being with you. If I got discouraged by something someone writes on the Internet that would be …. Childish… immature… stupid.”

“But…..”

“No buts, Jace…..” she pulled back, grabbing his face with both her hands, looking deep into her eyes “I love you, you idiot.”

“I love you too, sweetpea…..”

“Now that is a new nickname……”

“Do you like it?” he smirks “tell me what does it do to you.”

“You’ll have to call me that a few more times just so I can figure out exactly what it does to me.” She smiles pulling him down to kiss.

***

“JASON!!”  

Next morning Y/N standardly checked out the weekly ranking. Just for fun… After that little making up and clearing the air she had with Jason all night, she couldn’t care less about what vigilante couples made the top 10 and who did not. She was happy with her boyfriend. And that was what counted.

But.

There was something so surprising that he just screamed Jason’s name the moment she opened the page.

“Y/N!!??” Jason rushed into her room, shirtless, his face confused. “Are you in danger?! What happened?!”

“THANK YOU!!” she yelled again jumping into his arms. Obviously he immediately pulled her into his chest, enjoying her warmth and hugs and kissed she started planting all over his face , but was still unsure of what was happening.

“Y/N? Not that I’m complaining, but what is this about?”

“We made the first place!! I mean, Ego and Red Hood did! Look, look….” She grabs his hand and lead him to the computer, pointing at the page, almost jumping in excitement. “do you see that?!”

“Yeah, princess I see it….” he smiles, full of smugness.

“Thank you!”

“I didn’t do a single thing…..”

“So, Red hood spotted making some sort of floral carpet for Ego was purely accidental?” she smirked, but her eyes were glistening with pure love and admiration. “You didn’t have to, you know?” she stood up, locking arms on his neck, his founding a way to her waist and pulling her close. “I told you I didn’t give a damn about those rankings and you must have been working at it for hours….”

“It was worth it, baby. Seeing that smile and those pretty eyes shining….. And maybe I deserved a little kiss?”

“Oh, you deserved so…. much…. more….” She brushed her lips over his, making that little kiss a promise of something more to come. “And…” Y/N pulled back “as a bonus, you probably pissed off Dick.”

“Oh, yeah… That was definitely my biggest motivation….” His grip on her waist tightened suggestively.

“Really?” she mutters leaning forward ��maybe I can convince you otherwise? Show you what should have been your biggest motivation from the beginning?”

“You know I can’t say no to you, baby……”

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

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

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

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

I shake my head no.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It ends in a split second.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing!” He insists.

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

“It’s for your own good!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

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

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

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

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

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

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

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

He chooses to ignore me.

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

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

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

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

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

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

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

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

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

“What did I say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then quit!”

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

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

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

“Whatever y/n.”

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

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

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

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So,” I echo.

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

“We should sit?”

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

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

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

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

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

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

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

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

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

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Styles?”

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

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

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

“What is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this a joke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh y/n please come i-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We dealt with that article.”

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

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

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

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

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

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

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

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

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

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

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

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

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

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

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

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

Wait, he wanted an answer.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You seemed to have.”

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

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

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

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

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

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

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

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

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

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

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

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

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

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

“What?”

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

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

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

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

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

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you like that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

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

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

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

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

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

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

“A few weeks,” I reply.

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

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right.” I choke out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

She didn’t tell him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

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

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

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

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

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

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

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

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

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

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

“Fair. How’s America?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

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

“No it’s ok!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop apologizing.”

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

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

Famous last words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

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

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

Too much was happening at once.

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

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

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

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

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

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

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

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

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

“I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I am so tired.

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

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

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

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

I shake my head.

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

"I think I-“

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

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

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

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

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

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

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

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

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

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

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

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

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

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

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

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

Epilogue

[caapsiizzereads]

Meet me in the afterglow

Jamie Tartt x f!reader

Words: 2,7k

Warnings: language, a bit of angst (with a happy ending this time)

A/n: part 2 for Tell me that I’m all you want 🫢

Jamie has never been more excited for the pre-season. The weather in London is delightful today, the sun is shining and the temperature is at that perfect level of warmth where it doesn’t feel too hot. He’s back at Nelson Road Stadium, right where he belongs. No funny business this year. Jamie’s smiling cheerfully as he’s walking down the very familiar corridors, holding a cup holder with two cups of coffee in his hand. He strides into your office, and you smile brightly at him, putting your work aside and giving Jamie your full attention. You happily slip back into your routine.

Jamie had barely seen you during the off-season. If you weren’t working, you were somewhere away with Jason. You’d been to, like, four different countries in five weeks, living your best life. Vacation definitely suits you – you look so radiant and well-rested. Your hair is wavier than usual, your skin is glowing, and your posture is relaxed. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?

“I’ve missed this,” you say after fifteen minutes of chatter and giggles, and Jamie grins at you. “Almost as much as I missed this,” you add, smugly bringing the coffee cup to your lips. Jamie rolls his eyes but laughs nevertheless. God, he missed this too.

The blissful happiness doesn’t last long. Jamie doesn’t care much about what people say on the Internet, even if it’s everyone predicting that Richmond will get relegated again because it’s just poop-eh, yeah?

But then there’s something else.

“Did you know that Roy and Keeley broke up?” Jamie all but burst into your office.

You mimic zipping your mouth and throwing away the key.

“Oh, come on!” Jamie flops on the chair in front of you and sighs dramatically.

You shrug, unaffected. “How’s Roy doing?”

“Well, I promised not to say anything either!” Jamie crosses his arms determinedly.

Jamie doesn’t know whether it’s a lawyer thing or just a you thing, but he’s pretty sure that one stern look from you can make him spill all of his deepest secrets. So, predictably, you just raise one eyebrow, and it’s enough convincing for him to start talking.

After a short conversation, you agree that it’s a sad turn of events because Roy and Keeley were really good together.

“You and Jason are good?” Jamie asks because it feels fitting. He’s somewhat made peace with the fact that you’re in love with someone else. As long as you’re happy.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you smile.

It only gets worse from there.

Jamie is in your office the first thing after he hears that Zava might be joining the team because if someone knew anything about signing a new player, that would be you. You say that it’s just something that Rebecca wants, but it is very unlikely to happen. That is, until it does.

“Who the fuck signs a contract with ‘you’re welcome’?!”

Usually Jamie doesn’t like it when you’re mad, but nothing is more comforting for him than knowing that he has your support in his disliking for Zava. He becomes almost a permanent resident at your office. Every day, it’s “Zava this” and “Zava that”. Reminds you of the time when Roy first rejoined Richmond as a coach and refused to coach Jamie…

On the upside, Richmond is on a four-week winning streak. Like Zava or not, you’ve gotta admit that he is a hella good player. Before you can even finish that sentence out loud, the look on Jamie’s face is one of full-on betrayal. You roll your eyes, the fragile male ego.

“At least I'm still your favorite player,” Jamie declares self-assuredly.

“I'm sorry, at what point did I ever say that you are my favorite player?” you sneer at him, crossing your arms.

“It’s implied!”

“Aah,” you nod in faux agreement.

“So who is it then? It can’t be Zava.” Jamie will jump off a cliff.

“Lewandowski.”

Jamie shrugs, “Fair enough, he’s fucking great. I can be second after him.”

“See, that’s funny, because I don’t remember saying that you’re my second favorite either,” you say with an amused smile on your face.

“Oh, fuck off!”

Things haven’t been going really well for Richmond ever since that match against West Ham, they haven’t won a match for four weeks now. Needless to say, it was a little bit depressing. There is something else bothering Jamie, though. You’ve been acting weird lately, distant. You weren’t at the match last week, you told Jamie you couldn't hang out twice in one week, and when the third time you finally agreed, it seemed like your mind was somewhere else the whole evening. He gets that you want to spend time with your boyfriend, but Jamie wants some scraps of your time too! It takes you hours to reply to his texts, and even when he comes to your office during the day, it feels like even having a simple conversation with Jamie costs you effort. You just seem tired in general.

Jamie has been quietly sitting in your office for five minutes, waiting for you to finish whatever it is you are so busy doing. Not knowing what to do, he takes your coffee cup and takes a sip.

He grimaces in disgust. “What is this?!”

“Triple espresso,” you answer without looking away from your laptop.

No milk, no syrups, no joy, nothing.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Then don’t drink it,” you snatch the cup back.

“Not getting enough sleep?” Jamie smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

The look on your face just screams that you don’t find it funny one bit and can’t wait to be done with this conversation.

Jamie’s shoulders slump, “Are you mad at me?”

“For what, hurting my coffee’s feelings?”

“I don’t know! But you’ve been acting weird! You always say you’re busy, you don’t reply to my texts, you don’t make fun of my outfit choices, and I wore a jacket with shorts yesterday.”

“The fact that you know that it’s something I would make fun of you for means that my job here is done.”

“It was raining for the whole day two days in a row, and you didn’t even complain!”

“It’s London, it’s always raining.”

“And you always complain!” He’s got a point there.

Jamie looks genuinely worried, and you didn't mean to upset him at all. You sigh weary. “It’s not you. It’s just– I needed some me-time.” Jamie keeps looking at you, waiting for you to continue. “Jason and I broke up.”

Well, that was unexpected. Jamie doesn’t really know what to say. His previous attempt at post-breakup comforting wasn’t exactly successful.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” you say apathetically. “Sometimes people are just not right for each other.”

“I thought you guys were great.”

“Yeah, me too,” there’s a very bittersweet tone to your voice.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Jamie gets the hint. There’s only one thing that he wants to know anyway. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” That doesn’t sound very convincing even for yourself, and judging by Jamie’s skeptical look, it doesn’t for him either. “I will be,” you rectify, feeling a lot more sincere now.

His own selfish feelings aside, Jamie never really wished for you and Jason to break up (well, maybe except for the first, like, two weeks), and with you clearly being upset about it, Jamie doesn’t have it in him to feel pleased or hopeful about the fact. What you need right now is a friend, and that’s exactly what he’s going to be.

It’s fascinating how healing a good girls night can be because a week and two hours of screaming Taylor Swift songs later, you were terribly hungover but feeling like a whole new person. Luckily for you, your boss was one of the said girls, so after lunch, the two of you decided that there was no work that required your immediate attention and was worth all that suffering and, with a clear conscience, went home.

The loss against Man City was pretty bad. Especially considering that Zava left the team. And the sport in general… Jamie wasn’t so upset about this, but you weren’t particularly excited about all the paperwork that it left you with. Richmond hadn’t won a match in nine weeks, which was pretty discouraging too. You even invited Jamie for dinner after another lost match to cheer him up a little bit.

Then finally, a miracle happened, and Ted “came up” with some “total football” thing, which, once they had figured it out, seemed to work really well for the team. After they won a match again for the first time, Jamie invited you for a celebratory dinner, on which he cheated because he ordered takeout instead of cooking. You didn’t really mind, though, because Jamie’s cooking abilities are limited to a short list of dishes that he can make himself and a bit longer list of dishes that he can make if you tell him what to do, and you didn't feel like playing Nigella.

Richmond is on a winning streak, and the team’s spirit is exceptionally high. Jamie has been on his best game too, which he can admit that he has Roy to thank for, because he is mature like that now. Life has been really good lately.

The practice is over, and Jamie’s on his way to go and pester you when he bumps into Keeley in the hallway.

“Jamie!” She doesn’t appear to be as surprised to see him. “Walk with me.” She wraps her arm around his and starts leading him down the hall.

“You know that (Y/n) helps me out with the legal stuff in the firm, right?”

“Yeah.” Jamie’s not sure where this is going.

“So yesterday I asked her to come to this meeting with me ‘cause we were signing with that one guy. And he had his lawyer with him too, and he was, like, really hot. The lawyer, not the guy. And he was totally into (Y/n) too. I didn’t even know you could make legal terms sound so sexy…”

Keeley glances at Jamie, who resembles a kicked puppy at the moment. “I’m telling you all of this because you better put your big boy pants on and ask her out before somebody else does. Again.”

Jamie doesn’t even feel like asking how and how long she’s known, he just nods at her, and she gives him that sweet smile of hers and leaves.

It’s been almost three months since you and Jason broke up. Jamie’s been more than happy to be the one you spend your free time with again, and he’s been content with how things are between you enough to not want to risk it. He hasn’t seen you being really interested in someone anyway, but he’s seen people being interested in you. Evidently, it was just a matter of time before someone caught your attention too.

Jamie goes directly to your office, and the first thing that he notices is a big bouquet of flowers on your desk. Jason stopped renewing them a few weeks after your breakup, so it’s gotta be from someone else.

“Nice flowers,” Jamie announces his presence in the room. “Who are they from?”

“Just some guy I met at Keeley's meeting yesterday,” you say noncommittally.

So it is him. “Why is he sending you flowers?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but my guess is that he wants to ask me out.” You look pleased.

It’s now or never. “Don't go out with him,” he blurts.

You frown. “What?”

“Don’t go out with him,” he repeats with more conviction this time. “Go out with me.”

You contemplate him for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Jamie hadn’t really thought it through.

“Just let it go, Jamie,” you say insistently.

“The fuck I will!” There’s no going back now. “I want this. You.” That comes out a bit desperate.

“Right,” you scoff.

Now it’s Jamie’s turn to frown, “What?”

“For fuck’s sake, Jamie!” Even with your patience, there's a limit. “You only wanted me ‘cause you couldn’t fucking have me, which is somehow even worse than if you never wanted me at all.” You glower at him. “And now again. I’m not some fucking trophy for you to want just because someone else does!”

Jamie is completely stunned, just sitting there with his mouth open, not being able to come up with a single sensible thing to say.

Your attention turns to Higgins peeking through the door frame, “(Y/n), I need your help with something.” You have never been more grateful to see him.

“I’ll be right with you,” you nod at him, smiling. He reads the room and decides not to wait on you here.

When Higgins disappears from your view, you turn back to Jamie, “We have a good thing here. Let’s not ruin it.” With that, you get up and walk away.

You haven’t seen Jamie since your little talk yesterday. This is probably for the better because you needed some space after everything. You’re done with your work for the day, but instead of going home, you’re sitting in one of the thousands of seats at the empty stadium, staring at nothing in particular and a lot going on in your mind. The sunset is absolutely stunning today. The sky is colored with all kinds of shades of red, orange, and pink, illuminated beautifully by the afterglow of the sun.

You see in your peripheral vision that someone is walking towards you, and the clashing colors of the clothes that someone is wearing are enough for you to know exactly who this is.

Jamie takes the seat next to you. You just sit there in silence for a minute before he finally speaks up.

“You were wrong, you know,” he starts softly. “I’ve always wanted you. It’s only when I couldn’t have you that I realized it. I’m sorry I was an idiot. Shouldn’t have taken me so long.”

You keep staring forward, so he continues.

“You are not a trophy, but you are my best friend. It means more to me than you know, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it. But then Keeley told me about that guy, and I thought I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something.”

You finally turn to look at him. Jamie’s looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his, which makes it’s impossible to be mad at him. You give him a small smile. “You wouldn’t lose me.” He smiles too.

It gives Jamie the courage that he’s been looking for, and he gently takes your hand in both of his. “Give me a chance. Just one date. And if you hate it, I swear I’ll never bring this up ever again.”

You study him for a moment, and his eyes look so hopeful. “Alright, Jamie Tartt,” you smile at him. “Make it worth my while.”

Winning the last match of the season, Richmond finishes the season in second place. Not bad for a Premier League comeback. Today’s celebration is Ted’s last day with the team. He sure as hell will be missed, but today is not about sad farewells – it’s about appreciating the people around you and everything that awaits you in the future.

Ola’s is filled with music, laughter, and joy. Jamie looks around the room: Dani is having a drinking contest with Beard, Richard and Jan Mass are having a passionate debate about something, Ted is spinning Rebecca in the rhythm of Never Gonna Give You Up, surrounded by Keeley and the rest of the players cheering and dancing next to them. Like one big and very happy family.

Jamie is pulled out of his thoughts by the movement in front of him and the sound of glasses being put on the wooden table. Then you pull him up by his arm and start dragging him with you towards the dancing crowd with a carefree smile. Jamie eagerly takes your hand in his and lifts it above you, making you twirl. You laugh and give him a quick kiss on the lips. Life has never been better.

A/N: did i sneak in the name of the songs in the most literal corniest way? yes, and what about it.

[jamiemaybeme]

Doing This Again by Bears In Trees: An Unnecessarily Deep Analysis by me

( @bearsintreesofficial please if you only see one of my posts ever let it be this one i worked so hard 🥲)

i'm bored, and i want to yell about my hyperfixations on the internet, so have fun :D

(i will preface this by saying that it will be LONG. i wrote this in a notebook and initially i was going to just upload a photo, but my annotations are too small to be seen on camera. make of that what you will.)

!!ALSO THIS IS IMPORTANT!!: these are my interpretations. i do not know if the band intended to communicate everything i've understood from this song (i expect they didn't actually), and it's perfectly valid for you to have different interpretations to me. it's encouraged.

also (sorry one last thing) i will refer to "the singer" like i would a poet, even though i know the singer didn't write the song. just roll with it.

okay now onto the actual analysis (below the cut off so people who don't want to read it don't have to scroll for ages). enjoy!!

verse one:

i hope to be happy, i hope to be calm

i hope to be somewhat content

the song begins with an expectation. the singer 'hopes' to be something, which is a goal for the future. the repetition adds to this. it shows the amount of expectations the singer has. it reads like the beginning of a new year, when one makes new year's resolutions. this comparison could imply the singer is unlikely to stick to these expectations, as people are infamous for only sticking with new year's resolutions during january. this sets up the mood of the song: the struggle of attempting to break free from old habits and the mundanity of life, and the frustration that comes with that.

however, the singer only hopes to be 'somewhat content'. the word 'somewhat' makes it clear the singer is trying to lower their expectations to be achievable. the word 'hope' is also not a guarantee. the singer does not know if they will feel the way they want to. it is a 'hope' they are holding onto, perhaps to help them keep going.

the word 'calm' directly contrasts the name of one of the band's previous eps, i want to feel chaotic, which features their most streamed song ramblings of a lunatic. the ep focuses on struggling to cope with trauma and turning to your friends in times of difficulties. this song is a step away from processing trauma, and instead focuses on day-to-day life. this contrast is shown through the choice of the word 'calm'.

(also there's the whole i wanna feel calm/i wanna feel chaotic comparison but that's not directly related so i'm ignoring it. maybe i'll post about it later 👀.)

verse one (continued):

every morning, i wake up

and think to myself, "oh God, we're doing this again!"

'every morning i wake up' is also repeated throughout the song as the first line of the chorus. the repetition combined with the hyperbole communicates the singer's frustration. they feel stuck in a loop, which the structure of the song shows us.

'"oh God"' can be interpreted in a few ways. (this is actually the main reason i decided to analyse this song specifically, because it felt like i had so much to say.) interpretation number one: it could, simply, be a blasphemous curse. a teenage rebellion against parents or school. (context: nick - who i'm 90% sure wrote this - went to a catholic secondary school with two of the others. i believe. i think those two were iain and callum.) it also could show how the singer is just like everyone else, as this is a common phrase. this adds to my previous point about being stuck in a loop, except now it includes other people. it makes the song feel more relatable. i feel like this one is more accurate to what the singer is trying to convey. and interpretation number two: however, it could also be read as a cry for help, to God. 'God' could be interpreted as anyone or anything, but in the context it's in, i'm assuming it is talking about God in christianity. it sets up the next verse nicely too.

verse two:

i hope i'll be resilient

i hope to be brave in the face of another family cancer

my mother cites a rosary downstairs

but Lord these blessed words fail me

first i'll talk about the religious imagery, linked to the last line of the previous verse.

'rosary', 'Lord' and 'blessed' are all directly related to religion, specifically catholicism (a branch of christianity if anyone is unaware). throughout most bears in trees songs, there runs a theme of religion, and with it religious trauma. a 'rosary' is, i believe, a string of beads which you move as you pray. (please bear in mind i do not follow catholicism so i am not sure how accurate this is. i could look it up but in all honesty if i stop writing rn idk if i'll continue.) the singer seems to be attempting to reach God, but is struggling due to some unseen reason. perhaps it is something they themselves are also unaware of.

the theme of 'hope' is once again repeated in this verse, carrying it on from verse one.

'another family cancer' talks about an awful event. we are not told whether it ends in tragedy (death), joy (being cancer free), or continues as an ongoing battle. this a) makes the song more relatable, as most people have known someone who's battled cancer, and b) may potentially mean the singer has not yet experienced this but is expecting to (expectations again). the word 'another' adds to the idea of being stuck in a loop. (if you're starting to notice a pattern: congratulations! you've cracked the code.)

the word 'downstairs' shows separation between the singer's mother and themself (is it themselves or themself i can't work it out?), but could also be a metaphor for the distance the singer feels from God or even religion entirely. this is portrayed by having their mother praying at the same time the singer is struggling to connect with the words. the physical distance between the singer and their mother is a symbol of the metaphorical distance between the singer and God/catholicism.

the verse ends with the phrase 'fail me'. in the context of the analysis, it seems they are either struggling to turn to God for help, or do not feel God is helping. however, they may believe God is the one failing them. it can be extremely difficult to pray to someone or something that you can't see, especially when there doesn't seem to be a response. they either believe they are failing God because they can't communicate properly, or God is failing them because there has been no (obvious) response. alternatively, if we take it in the context of the song it could show how the singer is struggling to live up to the expectations (🙃) set by themself or others, and feel like a failure. (i will admit, this one is a little bit of a stretch. but it's analysis, everything's a stretch 🤷.)

pre-chorus? (i don't think it is but idk what else to call it so w/e):

i just wanna welcome all the broken people

the juxtaposition (i love that word) of 'just' and 'all' really communicates the singer's expectations of themself. they are under playing welcoming everyone into some sort of family or home, by specifying 'just' the 'broken people'. however, everyone is 'broken' in some way or another, so the singer's desire to accept the 'broken' people essentially encompasses the whole world. this is a high expectation. it is quite literally impossible. yet the singer seems to believe they should be able to to do it, as the word 'just' makes it sound easy. potentially they haven't fully considered the situation.

the word 'welcome' could have biblical connotations. Jesus was all about welcoming people, even those on the outside of society, the 'broken people', some might even say. (some being me. i'm saying that.) the singer seems to be attempting to fulfil the role of God in their life within which God is not present - either by their choice or by their interpretation.

chorus:

every morning i wake up, and i drink my silly little oak milk coffee

and i text my silly little texts, and my phone's still on autocorrect

just going to briefly remind you of the repetition of 'every morning i wake up' continued from the last line of verse one. okay that's it.

the singer decribes their interests as 'silly little' things. it's sung twice per chorus, which shows it's not just one aspect of their life. this could be read as a dismissal of their interests, but could equally be seen as them embracing their interests being seen as 'silly'. they are claiming their interests with the personal pronoun 'my'. this could show how they're not ashamed of the things they like.

chorus (continued):

so i gotta backspace, take my caps out

'cause i'm too lazy to change the settings, too hazy to hum myself to sleep

oh my God, we're doing this again

once again there's the idea of expectations. the modal 'gotta' shows the singer feels like they must do things they have decided to (in this instance type in all lower case, something that is considered trivial and unimportant).

the singer is aware of the fact they might be perceived as 'lazy'. this might be because they genuinely are lazy, or it could be a sign they are struggling, potentially with a mental illness or being burnt out.

they decribe themself as 'hazy', which implies they are disorientated or overwhelmed.

the pronoun 'my' has been added to the last line compared to the first verse. this makes it closer to blasphemy than a cry for help, but it still could be either.

the collective noun 'we're' addresses the audience directly, letting them know that they are not alone and the singer struggles with the same things they do (basically 🎶 we're all in this together! 🎶).

verse three:

i hope to be neurotic, go lucky

young upstart and plucky

there's the repetition of 'i hope' in this verse once again, but it's only in this verse once. this could show the singer either losing hope or struggling to keep up with all their expectations. (i know it's almost certainly for timing reasons but i didn't title this over analysing for no reason.)

(psa: this paragraph is almost entirely irrelevant i just wanted to rant about psychology) neuroticism is one of the three personality traits in eysenck's criminal personality theory. it is a trait that measures how anxious an individual is. the theory states that criminal behaviour is fixed from birth, and is mostly affected by biological factors. it theorises people are born with the urge to commit criminal acts. the other two traits featured in this theory are extraversion (how out-going an individual is) and psychoticism (how aggressive and impulsive an individual is). there was also a study done by heaven in 1996 based on this theory, but he did not measure neuroticism as he felt that would have been too hard (instead opting for self-esteem, which showed no correlation to criminality). none of this is particularly related, i just think it's cool and wanted to infodump :].

my gcse psychology textbook (this is pretty much the only time i've actually used it btw 😭) says about neuroticism that "people who score high on neuroticism are anxious, angry and prone to feeling guilt. at the opposite end is stability. stable people tend to be calm, even-tempered and not easily stressed. of course, it is possible to be in between these two extremes too." i'm not really sure what to think about this, but it's certainly interesting to think that the singer wants to feel/be this way. idk man i'm too tired to think about this too deeply.

'go lucky' is shortened from the phrase "happy go lucky". the lack of the word 'happy' shows the singer doesn't even have it in them to yearn for happiness, they just want to be anything other than apathetic.

I'VE JUST REALISED THAT THE FIRST LINE OF THIS VERSE CONTRASTS THE FIRST LINE OF VERSE ONE OMDS THIS IS CRAZY. the opposite of being 'neurotic' (i hope to be neurotic) is being 'calm' (i hope to be calm), and the word 'happy' (i hope to be happy) completes the phrase "happy 'go lucky'" (i hope to be..., go lucky).

verse three (continued):

anatomically correct beating heart of the party

and i could be your vena cava

pumping small talk between your trauma

while the red stains your new carpet

the specification of an 'anatomically correct heart' shows the singer's desire to not be artificial. it may also be a way to show they want to embrace a nerdier side of themself.

being the 'heart' or "life" 'of the party' means someone who is at the centre of the party. often the party properly gets started when they arrive, and ends when they leave. it is a common trope in teen films, which links back to the recurring theme of being stuck in a loop with everyone else.

the 'vena cava' is a vein (?) in the heart. i'm not really sure what it does but i have a biology exam in two days at the time of writing this (one day at the time of editing oh no) so i probably should. it might be an artery. either way, i THINK it carries blood away from the heart. whether it goes to the lungs or some other part of the body i am unsure. i should probably find that out soon. anyway.

the heart is a muscle that pumps blood - that is its function. the singer could be saying they want to be strong for their friend, or be crucial for them to live, much like the heart is. 'small talk' has replaced blood in their veins (metaphorically just in case that was unclear), showing how everyone else seems to live off of small talk. in 'i am cold', a song from the ep 'i see blue', the first two lines are 'don't talk about the weather / i wanna know what makes you sick'. in some interview or something somewhere either nick or iain (this is so specific ik) explains that this line means the singer wants to skip small talk and get straight to the deep things. this combined with this song makes the singer feel different to everyone else. they seem to be breaking the cycle but at the same time still contributing to it by helping their friend make small talk (it's 1am sorry if that made no sense).

in 'i wanna feel calm', a song from bears in trees' latest album 'how to build an ocean: instructions' which was also released as the second single out of four before the album, the first line is 'i try not to let my trauma do the talking but from time to time the "t"s add up'. this shows how the singer struggles not to trauma dump as a way of making conversation (relatable), but here they are helping their friend avoid doing the same thing by 'pumping small talk between their trauma'. alternatively, it could be that their friend is trauma dumping to a third party and the singer keeps interjecting (is that a word?? i thought it was but my keyboard didn't recognise it?) with 'small talk' to try and lighten the mood/distract from their friend.

the colour imagery choice is interesting, as 'red' has a lot of connotations. first and foremost is obviously blood based on the previous imagery used. it is also the colour of passion, whether that be passionate love, hate, anger or fear. it also signifies danger. the point is, passion is the opposite of apathy, which is the way the singer has seemed to portray their reaction in relation to the mundanity of life throughout the song so far.

however, whilst 'red' is more subjective, the word 'stains' has way more negative connotations than positive. a stain is generally unwanted, like a weed. it's a memory the singer it their friend wants to forget, but can't.

the 'new carpet' could refer to them trying to start afresh, the 'new carpet' being a new mindset. however, it very quickly gets stained showing the inevitably of life. alternatively, the singer could be referencing red wine- a red liquid which stains- or something similar, ie it could be literal.

(the chorus repeats here but i'm not repeating my analysis because there's literally no point [: )

bridge:

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye

every moonbeam, every fever dream

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye

every moonbeam, every fever dream

'every' is once again repeated here, but 10 times instead of 1 (20 in the whole bridge but 10 in each section i've split it into).

once again, it is a reminder of the inevitably of the existence of the mundane, everyday things of life. 'sunrises' and 'moonbeams' directly contrast, to show that the cycle happens all the time. these two things are also part of nature. they also happen everyday, whether you see them or not. 'street signs' are man made, but are still very common. 'goodbyes' are inevitable. for every hello there is a goodbye; they are unavoidable. they can be sad, they can be bittersweet, they can be happy (if you dislike the person enough). 'fever dreams' are uncontrollable. they happen while you are in a state that you cannot control, and are weird. this line feels like the singer is embracing the weird parts of life, even things they cannot control.

bridge (continued):

wouldn't you love to be happy? (every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye)

wouldn't you love to go outside for a change? (every moonbeam, every fever dream)

and i don't mean in body (every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye)

i mean embody, i mean embody (every moonbeam, every fever dream)

(note: this is pretty much where my notebook annotations end; i gave up and forgot about it. the rest is likely to be less coherent than the above, just a warning. okay back to it.)

the singer begins to directly question the audience here, addressing them like at the end of the choruses. however, they could be just using the audience to address themself. this is the final reference to expectations in the song, and now it's more of a wish than something that the singer feels they should be. "'wouldn't you love' to do these things? it would be amazing if i could, but i can't. i would love the ability to get myself together, but it feels impossible right now." this reminds me of the chorus of 'great heights' a song from both the album 'and everybody else smiled back' and one of three songs released earlier as singles. 'we'd reach such great heights / if we could just make our beds in the morning.' this is a reference explained by nick in a tiktok video somewhere to a sign he is entering a dissociative episode: he stops making his bed. this whole song ('doing this again') tackles the issue of mental illnesses and struggling to cope with the mundanity of life. the singer feels if they could just complete these simple tasks that seem so huge, bigger things would be so much easier to tackle. they feel if they can get out of their head, they could take over the world. but they can't take over the world without going outside. 'outside' could mean literally out their house, or could be outside their mind. (this is confirmed as being mental in the next two lines 'i don't mean in body, i mean embody'.)

the singer finally suggests 'a change' could be good. this is the first (and only) time in the song anything other than the "same old thing"™ is mentioned. they are trying to entice themself into wanting this by asking it as a question. this is a psychological trick often used on children - if you make someone think it was their own idea they are way more likely to do what you want them to do.

the word 'embody' crops up later in 'bart's bike', a song that wraps up how the years 2022 - 2023 (i believe. from what i've heard) felt, and reminisces on them. that would include this ep/song, which was released in november 2022. 'i know you meant embody / when you looked to the mountains, towering above us'. this callback shows how far the singer has come. either they are talking to themself in third person, or their friend is saying this. the friend may be someone who has helped the singer through the period of their life where they struggled with apathy. another song from this era is 'apathy is boring', which talks about rejecting apathy as a coping mechanism and embracing our emotions. 'the mountains' are symbolic of the tasks they've been talking about struggling with the whole song. the pronoun 'us' shows how the singer is not alone, and even though they still have struggles they don't have to face them alone. the parallels between this song and the 'how to stay shining' era shows the singer's improving mental health. the band have talked before about how they don't like dwelling on bad things that have happened, as good things happen too and it's important not to focus on all the wrong things. healing is a progress, and these two songs ('doing this again' and 'bart's bike') were released almost exactly a year apart ('bart's bike' was released on december 1st 2023. 'doing this again' was released on october 28th 2022, but 'every moonbeam every fever dream' (the full ep) was released on november 11th 2022.) this is both symbolic of a person healing over time and shows the band maturing/getting better over time. it's sweet and it's not unrealistically fast.

there's also the repetition of 'every sunrise...' here, which is just another example of the mundanity of everyday life.

(the chorus repeats one more time here)

outro:

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye (again)

every moonbeam every fever dream (again)

every sunrise, every street sign, every goodbye (again)

every moonbeam every fever dream (we're doing this again)

this is how the song ends. it feels bittersweet. the singer seems to have accepted their fate of continuously doing the same thing. the word 'again' is repeated 4 times in this section. the singer is focused on it now more than the rest of the song. (this probably means something but it's like 2am so ifk whay.) this is the last section of the song, but the singer is showing that their everyday life is not over. however, they may choose to find hope in this. we don't know, because the song ends much like the rest of it: with repetition symbolic of the middle of life.

the last line is 'we're doing this agin' which uses the pronoun 'we're' and also extends the phrase. the audience is left on the note that whilst the mundanity of life still repeats, it's easier when it's not just you. this relates to the 'bart's bike' line i referenced earlier, when the singer talks about mountains towering above 'us'. the use of collective pronouns throughout this song give hope to the audience. the song tells us that we are not alone, and there is hope to be found.

okay i've just fksihed writing this and it's like 2:15 am i'll edit it later i have an exam in <7 hourd i'm gonna fail yay :')

alright, 'nught :]

okay it's now 4.30pm and i've just finished editing. if you got this far, thank you so much. if you didn't, thank you anyway. i repeated myself so much in my analysis, but maybe that's to communicate meaning! (it's not but we can pretend it is.) i hope you enjoyed reading this. have a good timezone and please tell me if you want me to repeat this with another song. it might not be quite to this extent but i can try. (also i don't think i failed my english exam so that's good :D)

see you in the next one! (maybe. hopefully.) and go and stream how to build an ocean: instructions!!!

[psychospore]

Bestfriends to Lovers

Summary: Loki invites you to Midgard - after discovering steamy fics about him, you end up discovering his feelings for you in the best way possible

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Word count: 1169

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, please read at your own discretion, fluff, bestfriends to lovers

A/N: another new one for you lovelies needing a smutty fic today. Enjoy!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Loki knew you love everything Midgardian, he decided to surprise you by bringing you to Midgard itself in the guise of learning the culture.

Stark taught you the basics of using a phone and the internet and soon enough you were scouring the limits of the handheld device you got.

One fateful evening, you discovered fan fiction about Loki on the internet. You didn't realize how many people desire the person you consider your best friend. You scan through list after list, and almost everyone considers Loki as a God of Sex in one way or another - a perspective you haven't considered... Until now.

While Loki was out for a few days on a mission, you immersed yourself in reading these works without his knowledge. You find yourself feeling a tight knot building in your core, you wanted to touch yourself at the thought of Loki doing you in all ways imaginable. Every day was a constant battle of enjoying these writings while holding yourself back from touching yourself out of respect for your dearest friend.

One evening, you were feeling so hot with all the fics you were reading. You managed to strip to a thin, white tank top and a black thong that Nat managed to buy for you before they left. Your nipples are erect and your skin is flushed from the arousal. Your fingers twitch, almost reaching your folds for relief.

You were so deep into reading that you did not notice Loki came into your room after knocking way too many times, he was flustered seeing you like that but he can't keep his eyes away from the sight he was seeing. Seeing you biting down the bottom of your lip seductively as you rub your thighs together with eyes in a daze from whatever you were looking at, he could barely contain himself and he felt his own erection straining against the fabric of his trousers.

"Ahem... Whatever you're reading looks extremely interesting y/n" he called to get your attention as he inched closer to you.

Your red flushed red when you realized how he found you in a compromising position. "Loki! You should've knocked!" You screamed trying to cover yourself up.

"I did darling, but you were too caught up with your new plaything," as he snatched your phone away from you. You tried grabbing it back but ended up tripping yourself toward Loki and you ended up on top of him on the bed, your chest inches away from his face.

He was outstretching his arms to keep the phone away. You were too distracted that you didn't notice that in a moment of weakness, he bucked his hips so you could lose balance and he was now on top of you instead. Pinning you to the soft mattress. He started scanning through the lines of what you were reading - obscene descriptions of how Loki makes love to his lover. His brows furrowed in curiosity and interest as a smug grin spread on his face.

You were already covering your face with both hands in embarrassment when you felt Loki slowly making his way down. You felt his warm breath increasing your arousal further as his lips hover on your folds, your intoxicating scent filling his nose.

"W.. what a.. are you doing?" You retorted, peeking between your fingers.

"Making your desires a reality, darling. How I wished for this day where I can devour you, but stop me now if you do not consent before I ravish you tonight. Do you want me to continue?" He looks at you intently, awaiting your response.

"Yes"

"Yes, what? Words, darling"

"Ravish me please, in all ways imaginable"

And that was all the confirmation Loki needed as he rips your thong and top with one swift motion. You felt an electricity coursing through your body as he started licking your folds, his nose teasing your clit. Your hips bucked upward as he started inserting and pistoning his fingers inside you while gently sucking on your clit. Your legs clamped on his head while grabbing fistfuls of his raven hair as you strong wave of orgasm washed over you. Your whole body shuddered as Loki licked clean the mess he made you do.

He crawls closer to you, his clothed erection grazing your wet folds, drenching the fabric of his trousers. "Oh sweet darling, you surprise me with your learnings" he whispered as he pins your hands over your head.

"Please, stop. You're making me embarrassed" you pleaded.

"But my love, you look irresistibly exquisite. Tell me if you want me to end this and I will stop. But once you tell me to go ahead, there's no turning back. Tell me what you want," he cooed in your ear.

"Fuck.. fuck me Loki" you begged him. Your voice seemed like a sweet hymn to his ears, fueling the fire inside him. He pulled down his trousers to reveal a throbbing cock beckoning to be satiated.

He guided it along your wet folds, teasingly stroking it against you before making a slow entry, making sure you were well-adjusted to his size before plunging deep inside your aching cunt. His hips rolled at a steady pace, breath hitching in every time.

As you both were starting to reach climax, his tempo quickened into erratic bursts, his eyes rolled back as your walls spasmed, flooding his sheathed cock inside you and your legs clenched around his waist tighter. In one last powerful thrust, he emptied his seed inside you as you both ride out your orgasm together.

He slumped beside you for a moment in exhaustion, face buried in your pillow before tilting his head to the side to look at you. "I never knew you looked at me that way," you breathily broke the silence as you cover yourself up with the thick blanket and turn to face Loki.

He brushed away the stray hair covering your face before responding, "I always have, darling. Funny you had to find out this way."

"What are we now then? I don't want to lose my best friend," you pouted.

" I'm still your best friend, y/n, but now that you know how I truly feel about you, I wish to know if you reciprocate my feelings too - I love you, truly, madly, deeply..." he sternly spoke in a reassuring voice.

"I... I love you too. It took me a while to realize my feelings for you" you declared to him as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

So, is it true what they had to say in those 'fan fiction' you were reading?"

" Well, there was a lot there so I can't say for sure, " you teased.

" We have all the time here in Midgard to try everything. I'll make sure you'll be brimming with knowledge when you go back to Asgard. " He purred before approaching you for another love-making session and teaching you why everyone calls him the God of Sex in Midgard.

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess by Chappell Roan (Part II)

MY KINK IS KARMA

We broke up on a Tuesday.

Who knew that we'd let it get this bad when it ended.

Karma's real.

Hope it's your turn.

I heard from *Name*, you're losing it lately.

It's hot when you have a meltdown.

It's hot when you're drinking downtown.

You're getting called out 'cause you're running your mouth.

It's coming around.

People say I'm jealous but my kink is watching you ruining your life.

People say I'm jealous but my kink is karma.

Wishing you the best, in the worst way.

Using your distress as foreplay.

Six months since April and I'm doing better.

No need to be hateful in your fake Gucci sweater.

It's hot when you're going through hell.

I'm feeling myself.

It's hot when you know that you're caught and you're getting pissed off.

It's getting me off.

PICTURE YOU

Draw the blinds.

Slip off my pretty dress down my chest.

It's ritualistic.

Counting lipstick stains where you should be.

I need you around.

I'm getting close now.

Do you picture me like I picture you?

Am I in the frame from your point of view?

Do you feel the same?

I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you.

So, tell me now all your perversions.

KALEIDOSCOPE

Here we go again.

Everything is fine.

I guess we could pretend we didn't cross a line.

Ever since that day, everything has changed.

The way I write your name

If you really wanna leave, I'll never make you stay.

Whatever you decide, I will understand.

It will all be fine.

Love is a kaleidoscope.

How it works, I'll never know.

It's somehow all the same

It's beautiful somehow.

It's never just a shape alone.

Well, I'd love to see them try.

There's no one else who could.

The only one is you.

If you change your mind, I will understand.

It'll just take time to go back to being friends.

Don't be afraid to hold it close.

PINK PONY CLUB

I know you wanted me to stay.

I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in *Place*.

I heard that there's a special place where boys and girls can all be queens every single day.

I'm having wicked dreams of leaving.

I swear it's calling me.

Won't make my mama proud.

It's gonna cause a scene.

I know she's gonna scream.

God, what have you done?

I'm just having fun.

It's where I belong.

I'm gonna keep on dancing.

Every night's another reason why I left it all.

I thank my wicked dreams.

You've been too good to me.

Don't think I've left you all behind.

You're always on my mind.

I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away.

NAKED IN MANHATTAN

I know you just landed.

I know you're probably busy but I would love to see you.

Call me when you can.

I'll never cross the line.

I pushed you down a million times.

I'd love if you knew you were on my mind.

Boys suck and girls I've never tried.

We both know we're getting drunk tonight.

Touch me, baby.

Put your lips on mine

Could go to hell but we'll probably be fine.

I know you want it.

You can have it.

I've never done it.

Let's make it cinematic

I wanna know, baby, what is it like?

An inch away from more than just friends.

If I don't try, then it's my loss.

Won't you fucking touch me?

I just want to touch you.

I want all of your love.

CALIFORNIA

I stretched myself across four states.

I trade amber clay roads for the sea foam and the endless sun rays.

I was never told that I wasn't gonna get the things I want the most.

If it hasn't happened yet, then maybe you should go.

Come get me out.

Thought I'd be cool in here.

I'd make you proud

To think I almost had it going, but I let you down.

Too hard to find reasons to stay.

GUILTY PLEASURES

Learned it on the internet.

Wild thoughts that make me melt.

Sometimes I scare myself.

I can't help what I can't help.

So shame on me, and shame on you.

I fantasize what we would do.

How would it taste?

Some good girls do bad things too.

I want this like a cigarette.

Can we drag it out and never quit?

Oh my god, you are heaven sent.

You give me guilty plеasure.

You're a pothead.

You're a cinephile.

It's been awhile since you turned up the dial.

[possiblyunhinged]

So, if I’ve not made it clear enough on the website – I’m a mess. I felt desperately sad seeing the news about Liam Payne this morning. It’s not because I grew up with One Direction and had an image of the man. I was too uptight and pretentious to allow myself to listen to them when they came around. Instead, the amount of content I’ve seen from people celebrating his death because of how he treated others slammed a trigger in my head that has been screaming at me ever since. All I can think about is a child I don't know who has to live in a world where many people are celebrating his Dad's death.

It’s a collective mental illness to oversimplify everything and use it to project our dissatisfaction with our own experiences in life. I’m as guilty of it as apparently the whole of Twitter. I’m a wounded person who would do anything to feel, well, less wounded. Unfortunately, that can manifest as being a hateful little roach. I desperately want to live in a world where women aren’t subject to abuse from men in such high numbers, and oftentimes, I am so reactive to the topic that the idea of humanizing abusers seems repulsive to me because it’s often used to justify the suffering of victims and keep them quiet.

Many times, I don't want to humanize abusers because it feels like the very reason justice is seldom acquired for victims. However, without doing so, we don't solve any problems.

I lost my dad when I was 19—a man I should’ve hated but never did. A man whose death was nothing more than a flippant gotcha moment to many, whilst it was the most painful moment of my life.

At 28, 9 years after my dad passed away, I feel desperately sad for a child who is going to grow up in a world where, hours after his dad passed away, the world is arguing whether it’s a ‘good’ thing he is dead, whether that is what his dad deserved. On top of that, a world where it took hours for videos and photographs of his dad to end on the internet.

My Dad, who I mourn to this day, was an abuser. I witnessed him be abusive to my Mum up until I was ten years old. I hated myself when he left because I missed him. How could I miss a person who hurt my Mum to the point I had to leave notes under her pillow because I was scared that she would kill herself? What kind of person did that make me? It’s supposed to be a good thing that he left, the sign of the end of a life of having to hold your breath – but it wasn’t.

Out of acknowledgment that I’m projecting my nonsense onto somebody else’s suffering, had my dad been a public figure who had been ‘called out’ online by somebody, his death would’ve also been celebrated.

My cousin responded to finding out my dad had died of cancer as ‘good, serves him right’. My Dad inflicted suffering on my Mum, Brother, and me that fundamentally affects how we engage with the world now. I don’t trust men. I don’t think I ever will. I shudder when they put their arm around me, and I have been in a state of hypervigilance most of my life because of what he has done.

Yet my dad is still the most significant loss of my life.

I love my dad to this day, and I miss him so much it makes my tummy ache – go figure. He put the fear of God into me throughout my life, but he was also a man who would hold my hand on the way to school. The sound of him belly-laughing to Phoenix Nights in the living room would lull me to sleep most nights. He’s the man who would put me on his shoulders, and I’d see the world from the dazzling heights of six-foot-five. He’s the man who’d brush my hair every day, pathetically so out of fear of causing me pain (ironic, I know). He was a man who would eat whatever monasteries I’d bake him and pretend he’d like it as my Mum would laugh her arse off behind me. He’s the man I’d look across the table to at family gatherings and feel less alone, less like an alien – because he was often the only place I felt a sense of belonging—a place I never found elsewhere.

My dad was also the man who'd cry when he thought I wouldn't notice when we were watching TV, and all I could do was rest my head on his tummy in the hope that he knew that I loved him.

He was a bad person who spun his own childhood trauma into somebody else’s. And I wish I had lived in a world that helped people like my dad before they became the villains in somebody else’s stories, so he could’ve just been the dad I loved so much without an Asterix in sight.

By many on the internet’s standard, people like my dad dying is something to be celebrated. This is a lazy approach to such complex problems. If the dream is to live in a world where hurt people don’t end up hurting others, then it’s not going to solve itself in this one—one so void of compassion.

I feel very me me me posting this, but honestly, I wish some people would remove their heads from their arse on the internet. We are seldom more civilized than the crowds of people who'd gathered in the past to watch public executions; we relish in others' suffering if we can frame it as being just. And then, when it's too late, people backtrack on their cruelty and reflect briefly before moving on to the next.

It's tiring to see this process being framed as virtuous. There is nothing virtuous about it.

[meowzilla93]

this is a rant, vent, jumble of words im feeling and need to get it out of my system because im a little done

please scroll along if you dont wanna read, or dont, i dont control you

it never ceases to amaze me just how cruel people in fandoms can be. cruel, mean, hyprocritical, straight up dumb.

dont get me wrong, these people are a minority. i have found myself amongst the best sort of people in fandoms i am a part of and couldnt be happier for the friendships i have made from them.

but this incredibly loud minority piss me off to no end. i stay away from any sort of discourse, silently watching from the background and watch thing blow up over trivial matters, and then learn who to avoid in those circles and move on with my life

but when i see, what i consider to be blatant bullying, to someone i hold dear, i dont want to be quiet anymore. im not a loud figure, im a tiny blog that loves to simp over 2d characters, a tiny stream channel that i interact with like minded people. and i mean i am TINY, im barely a blip on this wide web. so anything i say, it doesnt go anywhere, so still, i stay silent until i cant anymore.

so lets get to the crux of the matter.

if you dont like a character, you dont get to make others feel bad about liking them. i dont care if you think they are problematic, if you dont like their story, their look, or simply the fact that they exist

you dont get to make someone feel bad for finding a connection with them and loving them

you dont get to attack them about liking the character, passively or aggressively, you dont get to make fun of them and any of the work they do around them. you have no right to take it upon yourself and make someone feel like they dont belong just because they like a character that you dont

if you dont like the character, dont fucking interact, its that bloody simple. scroll away. mute the tag, mute the channel, whatever. just walk away

interacting with someones content for the pure purpose to make fun of it is cruel. you are making it public that you want to demean the person for what they enjoy. and the worst thing is, if you catch the attention of the younger audience, they learn that they get to act that way, and this kind of online activity only gets worse

it already has gotten worse. man, im a millenial and i thought keyboard warriors when i was in highschool and older where bad. these days the younger generation feel justified to think that they can say whatever they want and suffer no consequences of those actions. i see it in so many fandom discourses. its horrible

but they learn from the worst of us on the internet. the more they see the cruel interactions, the more they think its okay to act that way. and without a doubt, fandoms will end up being incredibly toxic environments that people wont feel comfortable to exist in anymore.

every fandom has a toxic space, its unfortunate but it is true. i wish it wasnt

and the smaller the fandom, the louder this toxic group is

it just fucking sucks. and watching people i care about be treated so badly hurts because all i can do is be their support. an ear, a shoulder, just someone they can vent to. but it doesnt stop the fact that they got hurt and i cant do anything about it

god i dont even know what this even turned into. im tired, im upset, im just so frustrated.

why cant people just be nice?

if you managed to read all the way down here, man i applaud you. that was a great mess of thoughts, i still have many more but at this point i feel like i would be repeating myself

please, just. be kind guys. its not that hard, i swear it

to all my moots, honestly, i love you guys. seeing all your work and love you put into your creations gives me life and brightens my day. dont ever stop loving your craft and your fav characters just because someone decided to be a prick.

[juanarc-thethird]

How does Ghira and Kali react to hearing about Blake winning a pageant? And then how would they react if they found out she only did that to sleep with Jaune?

For the people that don't remember the first post, here it is Part 1

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

*Incoming video call sound*

Blake: Hello?

Kali: *Happy* Hi sweetie!

Ghira: *Happy* How have you been, Blake?

Blake: I'm fine. I don't want to sound rude but why are you guys calling me?

Ghira: Your mother and I stumbled upon a nice surprise this morning.

Blake: A surprise?

Ghira: You see, when we went to the park to walk and we found a kiosk where they sold-

Kali: *Showing a newspaper on the screen* You won Miss Argus!!!!

Blake: How did you guys find out about that?!

Ghira: That's what I was going for. At the kiosk we saw your photo on the front page of the newspaper and we bought it. But I must say, I didn't know you were into beauty pageants.

Kali: Of course she is interested, she is my daughter after all.

Blake: Actually, I'm not interested.

Ghira: You are not?

Kali: But I saw the replay on the internet. You looked so happy and you moved like a professional. As if it wasn't your first time doing this! How can you move like that without being interested in it?!!!

Blake: Simple, I did it to get fucked.

Ghira: Excuse me?!!

Kali: Huh?!!!

Blake: Sorry but I have to come out clean. I mean, just look at him! *Pan to Jaune who is training outside in a sleeveless shirt and holding his sword* Isn't he beefy?!

Ghira: *Upset* Blake! I remind you that you are talking to your parents. Kali, say something.

Kali: Yes, he looks very beefy.

Ghira: Kali!

Kali: Relax, Blake is at that age.

Ghira: She is an adult, she must behave like one.

Kali: Oh, you didn't tell me that when I snuck into your room after I turned 18 so we could f-

Ghira: *Blushing* *Ahem* That's different.

Blake: How?

Ghira: It was different time back then, ok! Besides, that's not the point I'm trying to make, what I mean is that a woman like you should act more appropriately.

Blake: *smiling* Dad, I'll tell you this with all the love and respect I have for you…. *Serious* I will not stop fucking him.

Ghira: What?!

Kali: Oh my~

Blake: Do you know how many girls have thrown themselves at him every time we go to a new city? Too many! Luckily he has rejected them all, but what will happen when he no longer does? What will happen if another girl is the person who dominates him? I can't let that happen.

Ghira: But there are other ways to do it. Can you just talk to him or maybe go out on a date? Those ideas sound better than just fucking him the first chance you get.

Blake: Didn't you see his body?! I have to fuck him!

Ghira: But-!

Kali: Ghira, I think I understand how our daughter feels. First of all she is not living the life of a normal girl. She is trying to save the world. You and I know that this is dangerous, and at any moment she could lose her life in the process. If you and I were in the same situation, I would do anything to be able to spend every second with you. Your daughter is doing that. She is taking action when she can, because tomorrow may be her last day with him. You understand it, don't you?

Ghira: *sighs* I guess... Just keep it PG when you talk to us. I don't want to know about my daughter's sex life.

Blake: Oh thank you so much! You don't know how much it means to me to have your support. Now, if you'll excuse me, Jaune went off to take a shower by himself. So… bye! *Hangs up*

Ghira: Good God, what are we going to do with that girl?

Kali: We can only hope for the best…. and maybe some grandbabies.

[goodluckclove]

I have spent some time now trying to formulate a question but every time i arrive back at there's probably no answer. OH. So. (Please ignore if you do not want to answer or can't or whatever. I'm thinking instead of sleeping and that tends to lead to strange thoughts.)

Where does creativity come from? Like, how do people get that spark that turns into an idea an universe. How do they step outside what they have experienced (tropes, stories), and... create something of their own.

I don't know. The answer is probably somewhere between "it just comes" and "they listen and notice it" (as in they are not in something resembling chronic creative burnout).

Writing looks fun. Creating stories. Having a world take shape in your imagination. I enjoy getting glimpses into that process and seeing the end products. (I would love to try it myself but it's one of those "so far away i have zero idea where to start" things. Where on the other hand rants, thoughts, concepts *prompted* by anything and routed in something already existing seem to come freely and turn into whole essays (sometimes at least). Oh well.)

I really don't know. Please ignore if this is weird. I should maybe have some water.

Take care if where you are it's also way too hot. Have water or rest or whatever might be good in that moment, if you want. I hope your day goes as well as can be, with nice moments and strength for the hard ones. (How do people end asks i am not good at people today.)

Hi! You sent this to me a while ago and I hadn't answered it, but I've been thinking about it a lot. I think I'm finally settled enough to answer it.

I think every human being - at least every that I've come across - possesses innate creativity and the ability to make art. I never believed in the concept of god-given "talent" and actually find the concept deeply patronizing as, in my mind, it implies no real effort. Which is bullshit. I will call an artist capable, honest, skilled, passionate - I will never call them talented.

Children are creative in their natural state and in their own way. What happens is an exposure to poison over the years. Your favorite books and movies aren't good for the reasons you like them, or if they are it doesn't matter because they're not real art. People project what they think art is onto you and negate any opportunity for you to grow and form your own sense of intuition.

Or you're never given a chance to really explore art at all. No one makes an effort to show you books you can relate to, so you decide you don't like reading. You think the stuff at art museums is just stuffy Old Dead Guy paintings, and since no one suggests you explore otherwise you never explore painting or sculpting as something accessible to you. It's an unbelievable tragedy to me and I cringe inwardly every time someone tells me they just aren't creative.

There are no uncreative people. There are no boring people. There are only people who were lied to and demeaned until they felt the only real option was to deny themselves the language of communicating through art and storytelling. And that's fucking horrible.

So how can you move past that? I talk to a lot of "aspiring writers" (another term I despise), who tell me blocks in their creative process that keep them from doing the work they want to do. Oftentimes I just respond by asking who told you that? Was it a teacher who was unable to finish their novel because of some poison they consumed? A parent who only sees you through the lens of a career they've decided you're meant to pursue to have value in the world? Perhaps a stranger on the Internet who realized that you can gain a facade of illusory "respect" by making individual taste and limited artistic scope as an overall rule of thumb everyone else has to follow?

Once you find the root of what makes you feel fundamentally severed from creativity, you can start to undo the hold it has over you. You might have to start further back than what feels good for the ego. If you struggle to write a long-term project, maybe you just need to write something. Anything. Just play with fragments and develop a foundation of actually confirming you're able to take up space. Because you are and you absolutely should.

Big ramble but this is a really important topic to me. Don't know where to start? There are really no wrong movies! People watch and wonder what their lives are like! Explore a single plot point of character without worrying about an overarching narrative! As discouraging as it can feel to struggle in a way so many other people seem perfectly well-versed in, it is never too late to develop creativity in your life!