#i swear having no music on its like. everything slowed down it felt so great | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starryeyedmunson · 2 years ago

Text

hotel sayre - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: it’s been two years since you had been home, since you had felt at peace. and it was all thanks to one night with a certain dark haired dark eyed boy.

warnings: alcohol mentions, mentions of weed, soft smut, swearing, angst, a little fluff if you try hard enough

author’s note: i had a lot of mixed emotions writing this, it’s loosely based on a memory that i have of my own, and the name “hotel sayre” comes from the song on the great gatsby sound track. i wrote based on how i felt the song flowed, so enjoy my little musical analysis. this also takes place as if there is no upside down, no scary monsters none of that. i worked extremely hard on this so any feedback or interaction is much appreciated, and enjoy!

word count: 9.1k

You took small, slow steps into the house you knew so well, yet it felt unfamiliar. The walls had been painted a new shade of a dusty yellow color, and the lights seemed to hit the walls in a different way than they had two years ago. The sound of your mom’s voice from the living room was almost a jump scare, and you felt even more out of place than you had the entire car ride with your dad back from the airport. You stepped into the living room of the open floor plan, seeing your mom with fresh eyes as she smiled up at you from the loveseat. She got up to hug you, and in that moment you finally felt a wave of relief wash over your body. You were home. You were safe. You were a teenager ready to see the world and finally leave your small town of Hawkins, Indiana. You were still a kid, never having experienced what it was like to lose someone.

Until you weren’t. Until you had met Eddie Munson. Until the childish, naive heart you so desperately wanted to keep safe had been shattered like a fallen vase.

Your mom pulled away from you, leaving you lost in your memories and unable to register her happiness to finally have you back from school. Her voice was muffled as you turned around, your feet having a mind of their own as they dragged you down the hall and up the stairs to the place you dreaded the most.

You opened up the door to your room, but you stood in the doorway as if something was barricading you from entering. A memory, a haunting image that had stayed with you for the time you were gone. You were frozen in place as the shouting that had cursed the pink walls in front of you came flooding back into your mind. Then came the whispers, the four words that had never left your mind no matter how hard you tried to forget. The four words you had washed down the drain with countless red solo cups and experimental nights with people you knew would never be able to take your mind off of the one person you needed them to.

Your feet felt heavy as you entered the room you grew up in, everything still in place just as you had left it. You looked towards your dresser, and choked at the sight of the broken, empty picture frame that was haphazardly thrown onto it. Dust had accumulated on the jagged glass, but as you reached out to touch it you felt as if you had bought it yesterday.

“Hold still!”

“Quit it, Munson, I look hideous,” you huffed, but he just rolled his eyes and held up the Polaroid, ignoring your incessant objections. You had put your hand up to reach for the camera, but you were too late as Eddie snapped the picture, the flash temporarily blinding your vision. He removed the printed picture from the bottom of the camera, waving it around to help the image come into focus. You took the opportunity to steal the camera from him, making quick work and taking a picture of your own. He smiled up at you, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Did you get my good side?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes as you took the fresh picture from its printer. You waited patiently for the picture to clear, a comfortable silence settling as you both sat in anticipation.

“Oh, this one’s a keeper,” you heard from across the bed. Eddie was holding the picture at you, like a child who had just won the grand prize at a carnival game. You squinted at the sight of yourself, smiling with your arm extended in a futile effort to steal the camera from him.

“Do not show that to people,” you said sternly, but the smile couldn’t help creeping onto your face.

“As long as no one looks through my wallet, you have nothing to worry about, darling,” he said with a wink. By then your own picture had developed, and you smiled at the flick of Eddie. He looked truly happy, a wide smile on his face as he looked at the developing photo of you. It was as if he was enamored with the small picture, a moment in time so candid and raw that he could always associate with happiness. With you.

You felt a warm tear fall down your face, but made sure to wipe it from your cheek as if to wipe away not only the tear, but the memory as well. You moved towards the suitcase that was still planted in the doorway, telling yourself that if you had unpacked you would be able to feel at home again in the space that held so many other memories than the ones of you and Eddie. Memories of you and Steve smoking a joint out of the window your junior year, but the wind blowing it right back in despite your efforts. Memories of playing truth or dare with Robin, ending in the two of you solidifying an unlikely friendship.

As you nestled the last shirt into its proper drawer, you found some comfort that wasn’t there before. You appreciated the small victory, even though you were hopelessly losing the war in your mind. The comfort wasn’t fleeting; it stayed with you as you got ready for bed and fell back into an old routine buried deep in your mind. You fell asleep to the sound of various insects outside, distracting you from the pang in your heart that had attacked you as soon as you walked into what used to be a safe space.

“Well, well, well, look who’s back in town!” Steve exclaimed. You shook your head and smiled, hearing the doors of the Family Video store shut behind you. Robin peeked from behind one of the shelved rows, and the grin on her face bled onto your own. She ran at you with full force, almost knocking you over with her bear hug.

“Holy shit, holy shit! You’re finally back!” she said, and you laughed at her giddy expression. “Thank god, it’s been absolute hell here with Harrington as my only source of entertainment. I swear, his life is like a tv show, but make that show about a single man who goes on countless dates and can’t seem to land an actual girlfriend.”

“Okay, that- that was just uncalled for, Miss I-can’t-tell-Vicki-I’m-in-love-with-her,” Steve replied, and both you and Robin shot him the same irritated look.

“This is Hawkins, not some progressive city like San Francisco,” Robin said before her eyes lit up and she turned back to you. “Speaking of, how’s California!”

“It’s been good, school’s getting rough but that’s college, I guess,” you said simply. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t called neither Steve nor Robin almost every day, checking in on both of them along with the kids the three of you involuntarily babysat. Steve had been fiddling with the phone line as he looked at you with big eyes, you always knew he couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes. Even that was a long time compared to Robin, who had been speaking with her hands and talking a mile a minute.

“What’d you say?” you said as her voice finally came back into focus.

“I said that we all missed you! It’s official, we’re going to Steve’s and throwing you a welcome back home party. Come on, it’ll be fun, we’ll invite all the kids and hang out like we used to!” You smile at the thought of seeing everyone, seeing the family you had missed even more than your real one.

“Maybe Munson can come too if he’s not busy with another random groupie he’s hooked on this week.”

The sentence was like a shot to the back of the head. You tensed up, not only at the mention of his name, but the words that had followed afterwards. The now-inherent reaction to any time he was brought up was threatening to show, but you cleared your throat before responding to the overly-excited Robin.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said quietly. Your mind was racing and it was the best response you could come up with. You hated how you sounded. So small and weak just by the sheer thought of Eddie. Of Eddie with someone else. You hated how after all this time he still had you in the palm of his hand, but to him you were a distant memory.

“Hey, hello?” you heard Steve say. You were re-associated with reality and were pulled back into conversation, drawing you away from the replaying image from that August night two years ago. “Does nine work?” You nodded your head but remained silent, and Robin and Steve looked at each other in confusion. You gave a short ‘I have to go’ before hurrying out of the store and getting into your car. You didn’t hear Robin ask Steve what your reaction was about, and you didn’t hear Steve respond with a simple name that still had an effect on you after all the time you had spent trying to forget it. You thought they were in the dark, that they had no idea what had happened between you and the person you had loved so dearly. But what you didn’t know was that late night in August hadn’t only ripped your heart into disrepair, but that the perpetrator’s had been irreplaceably damaged as well.

Steve’s house was a blur. You stared at the fire he had set up outside as everyone around you chattered like birds calling to each other early in the morning. You gave the occasional laugh, the fleeting smile, the temporary fixation on whatever the other person was talking about. But your mind was nowhere near where you were sitting. Instead, it was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Until two words brought your eyes up from the flames.

“What the hell are we doing at Lovers Lake, Munson?”

“Shut up, just follow me.”

You trudged down the unbeaten path behind the boy until you reached the small shore where there was a ragged old boat. Eddie turned around with a giant smile on his face, his arms motioned towards the boat like it was a holiday present. Your eyebrows raised in confusion, then fell flat again.

“What the hell is that?”

“A ferris wheel. The fuck does it look like?” he shot back. You didn’t try holding in your laughter at the sarcasm lacing his tone, and it seeped into your response.

“Eds, I love you to death, but there is no way I’m getting in that excuse for a buoyant object,” you managed through giggles. He sighed and walked back towards you, grabbing your hand despite your resistance. He dragged you down to the tiny rowboat, and tugged you into it after hopping on himself. He put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down so you were sitting, and before you could get back up and leave your spot, Eddie had already pushed the boat from the shore.

“What was that?” he said. You smacked him upside the head, but it was only met with laughter that you ended up joining.

The night was beautiful, the pitch black sky littered with glowing white dots that formed patterns you and Eddie were hopelessly trying to connect. The moon was waxing, almost full but not quite there. You could hear the faint sound of crickets as you pulled away, but as you furthered yourselves the sounds died away. The water was like glass, the only ripples coming from the boat you and Eddie were sitting in. The two of you floating aimlessly in the night with the only company you thought you would ever need.

“You’re my best friend, darling,” he said quietly as the both of you stared up at the stars. You didn’t feel Eddie break his concentration on the sky to bring it down to you. There was a faint smile on his face as he watched you explore with your eyes, and he had never seen anything more innocently beautiful.

He had moved his gaze back up to its previous position, but you had looked down too late to catch his stare. You studied him, watching your best friend in his own world. He looked so enamored, just like he had as he stared at the picture of you from your room, so focused. But the worst of all, he looked so pretty.

You had never wanted to lose him, Eddie Munson. He had only entered your life at the beginning of the summer at the hands of Robin and Steve. But you couldn’t thank them enough for showing you the kindest, most selfless, most hopeful soul you had the fortune to encounter. He had dreams, as did you, and you two vowed to be there for each other when those dreams came true and still if they didn’t. The dreams you two had could not have been more different, but you knew them as your own because you knew they mattered to the other more than almost anything.

You tried your best to keep the feelings at bay, to keep them from bubbling up to the surface. You knew there was only a couple months left before you had to leave Hawkins behind and begin the homestretch to the finish line that was university. But looking at Eddie furrowing his brows at the sky, trying to find any sort of familiar constellation, you struggled to wash the thoughts away like you had been able to do so easily before. You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t risk the fragile friendship that had formed so quickly but felt like it had been in place since you were small. But with each passing second, you toyed with the idea of shaking him and telling him I love you! But you settled with the safe response. The response that would keep him close to you, even if it played a sad melody with your heart strings.

“You’re mine too.”

You left Steve’s house with an apology for being so distant, the group watched you walk out the door to your car. As you pulled away and the door was closed, there was a mutual silence that hovered over their heads before Dustin, who still couldn’t keep his ego in check, broke the calmness.

“So what are we going to do about this, because I can’t have two people in my life go ghost on me if I can help it,” he stated. It earned a smack on the head from Robin, knocking his hat straight to the floor in front of him.

“We are not doing anything,” Steve said. “These two need to figure it out themselves.”

“And what is ‘it,’ exactly?” Mike asked, bringing forward the question that only you and Eddie knew the exact answer to. As if on cue, the door was almost broken down with the persistent banging that came from the other side, and Steve walked up to it slowly before turning the knob.

Before the group stood a wild-haired, red-faced, out-of-breath Eddie Munson, who looked as if he had just sprinted all the way from Forest Hills.

“Sorry, man. She just left,” Robin said with a small, almost pitying voice. “We said come earlier,” she said, but the words were already drowned out from Eddie’s registration. He didn’t say a single word as he entered Steve’s house, pushing everyone aside until he got to the backyard. There was about a gallon of gas sitting by the sliding doors, and he picked it up silently. Back around he turned, walking in the same path he had made before to leave the house. His van had run out of gas about a mile away; you knew he never filled up the tank all the way. Said something about “you live and you learn” every time you two were stranded on the side of the road. The memory was fond, so fresh in his mind as he walked down the empty road. He was cold, the metal from the tank not doing much work to warm him up. He was simply left alone to sit and shiver both from the cold and from the thoughts that you had no idea were plaguing his mind as well.

With time it grew easier. You felt more comfortable going outside, walking into Family Video without the nagging thought that Eddie might be there. The person you had found so much safety in now made you scared to even leave the house, terrified that you would break down and cry on the spot. But, like you said, with time it grew easier. The forced smile didn’t seem so forced anymore, and the invitations extended to you by your friends you began to accept without hesitation. It was nice, for that month and a half, to not feel like you were crumbling under one person’s touch without them even being near you.

Until that all came to an end. The dreamland you were in had its sky taken over with dark, thundering clouds that came with a leather jacket and a red flannel, metal rings littering its hands. Metal rings that had come off and laid on your bedside table one night that could never be erased from your mind. And the ending that you tried to ignore was ringing from the pink phone across your room.

Something in your body was tugging you towards the phone because that same thing was telling you it was him who was on the other line.

Eddie’s hands were shaking as he held the line up to his ear, his eyes flitting back and forth to try and calm himself down.

You approached the still-ringing phone and placed your hand on it, but something was stopping you from picking up the line.

His leg was bouncing out of control from anxiety, waiting for what seemed like forever to finally hear your voice after the past two years.

You took a deep breath, eyes closed as you gripped the phone tighter.

On the verge of tears, Eddie removed the phone from his ear and went to place it back down on the receiver.

“Hello?”

Eddie was frozen, unable to bring the phone back up when he heard your voice, distorted by the phone line. He heard nothing but silence as he found it within himself to pick the phone back up and bring it to the side of his head.

You sat there, nails completely bitten off, waiting for him to say something. You were playing through every scenario in your mind of what he might say, but a single word and the dam that had been holding you together was cracked.

“Darling,”

Everything came back. Every moment you had with him, every smile, every laugh, every inside joke. All the hot summer nights and the lazy summer mornings you shared. All the car rides filled with music battles and all the times you two filled in as the kids’ interim parents. Every happy memory was made like new in your head. Yet the tear that fell from your eyes wasn’t from happiness. There was a sadness laced within, a final product of the build up of wanting to hear that word for so long.

Eddie sat on the phone for what seemed like hours as he heard nothing, but he knew you weren’t consciously ignoring him but rather replaying every second of that summer, just as he was. The drives to the arcade that Dustin insisted you take him to. The fake concerts you two would throw in his room as you sang horribly into your hand mic. The countless times he had made you try Yoo-hoo to see if your opinion would change, and he could hear the responses of Give it up, Munson as if you were saying it to him now.

“Why are you calling?” you managed to say, trying not to let the crying show in your voice.

“I heard you were back in town,” he said, but you scoffed and cut him off.

“I’ve been back in town. And you knew that. So I’ll ask again, why did you call?” you seethed. The sadness was still there, but there was a hint of anger that was becoming more prominent by the second.

“I wanted to see if you’d meet me at-”

“No.” He tensed up, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had expected this answer, but he hadn’t thought as far as how to respond.

“I have to expl-”

“Explain? Explain? You should’ve explained two years ago! When I left in the first place! There’s no time for explaining now, I’ve moved on. And by the way, Lovers Lake? Ironic, Munson, real nice work,” you spat. The anger was now blinding you along with the tears that were running down your face like a faucet. There was silence on the other line, and a part of you was nervous that he had left the phone out of frustration. But you heard the same sigh you had before, and a part of you was relieved he was still there.

“I know, darl-”

“And don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get the right to call me that anymore.”

“Okay,” you barely heard from the other end of the phone. In your blind rage you had almost belittled Eddie, and he felt powerless against your emotions that were driving everything you said to him over the line. Just how it did him two years ago.

“Don’t call again,” you said coldly, and you didn’t wait for a response as you slammed the phone down. You sank to your knees, the tears nowhere near stopping, and you felt yourself lay to the floor. You couldn’t take back the yelling at him that had just ensued, but he also couldn’t take back what happened in the very spot you were laying all that time before.

Eddie sat there, still holding the phone to his ear though the ending dial tone had been playing for the better part of a minute. His face was hard, eyes refusing to water because he thought that if they did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from drowning in his own tears. He knew you were right, he knew what was going to happen as soon as he dialed your number. He hadn’t even hoped for a different response because even after the years that had passed, he still knew you better than you knew yourself.

“So, have you heard from Munson?”

“Robin“

“What! I’m done trying to play matchmaker, this is just depressing.”

“You didn’t have to just come out the gate and say it.”

“I’m just saying that-“

“You guys know I’m right here right?” you said, raising your eyebrows at the two of your best friends standing in front of you. Steve put his hands up in self defense, but you rolled your eyes and looked back down. The eye roll wasn’t even laced with a bit of playfulness; it had been blatantly annoyed.

“Look, we know what happ-“

“No, you don’t. You don’t know anything. And whatever that prick told you is not true at all, so drop it. Catch my drift?” you said icily. You had never spoken so lowly of him, calling him a prick. You could never bring yourself to do so even after everything. But ever since that phone call a week ago, your emotions ran high and seemed to speak for you, even saying things you knew deep down you didn’t mean.

“He didn’t tell us anything,” Steve said calmly. “There were no details, just that something had happened the night before you left for college. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And,” Robin started, your eyes darting over from Steve to her. “We know it wasn’t pretty. But he’s been a mess. For two years he’s been a total mess and I’m not saying it’s your fault-“

“It’s not.” you interrupted, a hint of self defense peeking through your hardened tone.

“I just said- whatever. All we know is that every time you hear Munson’s name you go into cardiac arrest, and every time someone mentions your name Eddie turns into a dead battery. So yeah, we know something’s up. But we know about the phone call and we know it went about as poorly as Steve’s last date and you two have got to do something about it before one of you combusts.” You sat there stunned at Robin’s monologue, wondering if she had practiced all of that before you showed up to the video store.

“Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

“Only when they don’t want to admit that I’m right.”

You sat in silence, staring at the floor. You could feel Robin’s eyes burning holes into the top of your head, but you couldn’t care less. You were too wrapped up in the recollection of the short phone call that solidified the tie between you two being snipped like a string by the Three Fates, and you finally acknowledge the sting of regret that you had so desperately been shoving back down in order to not feel it.

Eddie was the reason you hadn’t come back in two years. After your first year you couldn’t bear to face him, so you found refuge in your friend’s house for the summer. The California waves mixed with the unacknowledged beauty of the forests you had never imagined were there was the perfect cocktail to help you lose yourself. Lose your attachment to Hawkins. Lose your attachment to Eddie.

But you had to come back eventually. And after two years of playing hide and seek with your thoughts you finally thought you had won, but the weight of the simple pet name hit your shoulders like the weight of the sun. It laid you out, leaving you helpless and broken just as you were when you left.

Robin and Steve let you get lost in your mind, waiting for you to slowly make your way back to your dreaded reality. When you finally did, they allowed you time to find the words that you barely made audible.

“I’ll call him.”

Lovers Lake had become your special spot. It was ironic, given that you felt the exact emotion associated with the name. But you knew that to Eddie it was a symbol of an everlasting friendship. A platonic love.

The two of you sat in solemn silence as you looked at the stars you had done weeks ago, the lingering thought of what would happen tomorrow hanging above your heads. Your head was nestled into his lap, and he ran strokes through your hair.

“Please don’t go.”

The words were the perfect trigger to kickstart the tears that were threatening to fall from your face. You could feel a warm drop hit your face, and you saw the source still looking out at the glassy water.

“You know I would change it if I could.”

“No no, darling. This is going to be amazing for you. Life changing. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you stayed,” he said, a sad smile on his face as he looked down at you. He continued playing with your hair, and you were entranced in his soft, oh-so-pretty face. A part of you wanted to reach out and touch it, to pull him into you and show him how much you would miss him. But you refrained, scared of how it would change things forever.

But maybe, just maybe, since you wouldn’t see him for so long you could just go for it. Risk everything for a temporary feeling of satisfaction.

His voice brought you from your inner turmoil, calling your name as you slowly registered his face clearly.

“Huh?” you asked. The raking of your hair had ceased, only leaving Eddie’s other hand holding your own as your lifeline to him.

“I’m going to take you home, you have an early flight, darling,” the words left his mouth with a slight choke. You just sat up and allowed him to stand, his hand reaching for yours to help you get to your feet too. Your fingers remained intertwined as you reached the van you had spent most of the summer in, only parting as he opened the passenger door for you.

The ride home was silent. Not comfortable, like every other silence you had with him in that car. It was sad, there was a feeling of longing and Eddie’s words of ‘please don’t go’ infesting both of your minds.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone that day, unlike Eddie had done the week before. You spent 3 weeks thinking about what to say to him, how you would tell him that all you wanted to know was why had thrown an entire summer out your bedroom window. Steve and Robin had stopped trying to talk you into it; they knew they weren’t getting anywhere. It was just up to you to take the step towards hopefully fixing whatever was left of your friendship with the person you cherished more than anything in the world.

It would take those entire three weeks, leaving you a week left at home, to finally pick up the phone you had been avoiding almost all summer. You lifted it from the receiver, shaking as you dialed the number you still knew by heart. The line rang a couple times before you put the phone back down. You knew it was a mistake, and the creeping feeling of regret was moving closer and closer to the front of your brain. Your thoughts were running laps in your mind, and they led you back to your bed on the other side of the room. The summer rain pattering on your window pane lulled you to sleep, finally giving you the deep rest you had craved since you had come back to what used to be your home.

As you awoke to the sound of your door being knocked on, you meandered out of the warm covers, leaving you cold and vulnerable. You opened the door hesitantly, and widened your eyes at the person on the other side.

Your mom was standing in the doorway, a long ball gown draping her body. She looked beautiful, and in moments like these you felt an immense guilt for spending the little time you had with her mentally somewhere else.

“Hey, honey. Your dad and I are going to the Hawkins High sponsors dinner tonight. It might be a while, so don’t wait up for us to get home,” she said with a smile. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, and we’ll be back by around 12.” You gave her a tight smile and wished her and your dad a fun night. It was only until they finally pulled out of the driveway that you let out the breath you had been subconsciously holding in. You could finally feel the emotions you had been suppressing without the fear that your parents might walk in and ask what was wrong. They’d poke and prod and finally ask you about the correct reason that you were upset, to which you’d shout for them to just leave you alone.

You walked back up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. You opened the door to your room that finally felt somewhat safe again.

Until you saw the person standing in the middle of it.

Your world stopped. Everything seemed frozen in place, and your breathing started slow but became more rapid with each one you took. In front of you stood the one person you would have risked your future for. The one person who you spent the better part of your senior year summer getting to know and knowing to love. The one person who only had the heart-stopping effect on you that you were now experiencing right in your own doorway.

You pulled up to your house, Eddie dragging out the end of the ride as he slowly made it to the top of your driveway. Your parents had been at some dinner and you knew they’d be home late. Not that it even mattered; Eddie coming over was a sight they had become all-too-used to. You two stayed in the car for what seemed like forever, as if you getting out would mean that it was goodbye for good.

“Do you wan-“

“Can I co-“

You both chuckled at the words you said in unison, before you finished what you had started.

“Would you like to come in, Eddie the Banished?”

He smiled his signature dopey grin, replying with “Of course m’lady.”

You two got out of the car, Eddie rushing over to open the door for you. It was little gestures like these that made you think there could be something more than friendship that twinkled in his eyes when you looked at you, but every time the feeling was deflated as he told you how much he loved you, his best friend. You made it inside the house, leading the way to your bedroom as if Eddie didn’t already know the way. The walk was the same as the car ride, the same as Lovers Lake. Silent. Only the sound of the creaking staircase as you walked up to your room.

You opened the door, your bed greeting you and Eddie like an old friend. The picture of him that was now framed on your dresser, a constant reminder that your bond was forever. There was no tension as you both sat down across from each other, the position was so familiar to the both of you that it would have raised confusion if you didn’t do so. Eddie took your hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he looked into your eyes. He was searching for the right thing to say, but you knew that time was running out for the both of you.

“Darling,” he said, but you had already pressed your lips to his. He sat there in shock for a moment as you let your lips linger on his unmoving. You pulled away, your eyes wide and chewing on your lower lip. You stared at the big, brown, confused eyes on your best friend as you waited for him to say something.

Suddenly his lips were back on yours as he lunged forward, hands gripping yours tightly. You released them from his grasp to move them to his arms, holding on for dear life and never wanting to let go. His hands were now cupping your face as your lips moved in tandem. The kisses were slow yet fervent, each one deeper than the last. Your fingers then carding through his hair sent a calm vibration through his body, and his hands moved down to your waist. He had already known your body from seeing you in various bathing suits and the occasional tight shirts you sometimes wore, but he felt like he had just met you as his hands grazed over every part of you. He explored further, moving one of his hands to your thigh where he applied the smallest amount of pressure.

He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes bore into yours silently asking permission, and you brought him in for another kiss to give him what he had nonverbally asked for. He laid you down slowly, taking his time and making sure your head didn’t hit your decorative headboard. The hand from your outer thigh moved to its inner counterpart, and your breath hitched as he moved closer to your uncharted waters.

His fingers danced along the edge of your pajama shorts. It could have been misconstrued as teasing, but you knew it was him becoming acquainted with you in a way he never had before; he didn’t want to go too far too fast. You moved one of your hands from his hair down to meet his, guiding it towards where you needed him the most. He took off his rings and placed them on the bedside table before he ran his finger up your folds, hitting your bundle of nerves and eliciting a small moan from your mouth.

He was trying his hardest not to stop right there and open his eyes to see you, raw and needy, foreign yet comfortable. He continued to slowly put more pressure, rubbing small circles into you. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours but never looked at you, afraid he might see the look in your eyes and crumble to the ground.

You were writhing, begging for more, and he obliged. Quiet noises of pleasure were escaping your lips, and as he added two fingers into your slick entrance you were in ecstasy. The boy you loved seeing you the way you had always wanted him to was bringing you closer to your release, and you let out a small more before everything screeched to a halt.

The speed in which he pulled back was blinding, and you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest. He made no eye contact, running the same hand that had just been undoing you through his hair. You sat there facing him, but he was no longer in his rightful place across from you. He was standing, facing the opposite direction.

“Eddie?” you said nervously, hugging your knees even tighter to protect yourself from what he would say.

“That was a mistake.”

The four words that would never leave your head after they left Eddie’s mouth shattered you, and you felt the tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry-”

“Yeah, you should be,” he said, still facing away from you. You felt so defeated, so embarrassed having let yourself show your true emotions to the person who you thought would never judge you.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying-” you stuttered, but him ignoring your gaze had you at a loss for words. “I couldn’t leave without at least trying to show you the truth.”

At this he slowly turned around, a hardness in his eyes that truly scared you. “The truth?” What am I supposed to do with this? You ruined everything. Where did- How did you even think that this was a good idea?” he spat, looking down at you and taking all of the power away from your usually shared dynamic.

“I don’t- I don’t know, I just maybe thought-”

“No, see that’s where you’re wrong. You didn’t think anything! You didn’t even wonder what the consequences of this was, how I would have reacted” he shouted coldly, the narrowing of his eyes driving the tears from yours to finally fall. “What, did you think this could be anything more?” he scoffed. “I knew you loved to live in a fairytale land where you weren’t leaving for college and were staying here forever, but, darling, I didn’t take you for utterly delusional.”

You stared at the blurry vision of Eddie towering over you as you sat curled up in a ball on the edge of your bed. You couldn’t even make out his face, just a figure with a menacing presence as he drilled into you just how stupid you had been. With just a few sentences he had belittled you into almost nothing, the pet name that had always been so loving now saturated and dripping with disdain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as put his shoes on, and he stormed out of the room, leaving you alone in your room. You could hear the slam of the front door, and you rocked back and forth as you heard his van start and the tires screech as he sped out of the driveway.

He left you there, broken and alone to sit with the dreaded hypothetical that had now set into reality. And he took every bit of your heart with him.

You stared at his hard features, sadness and regret having weathered away the once playful and carefree expression you had been so used to. Your eyes fixated on his brown ones, unable to make out the fact that he too had to suppress the tears that were too close to making their way down his face.

“Hi-”

“Don’t.” you said softly.

“You still haven’t learned to lock your window.” The ghost of a smile appeared on your face, and Eddie’s face mirrored yours. You saw the sparkle in his eyes, the same one you used to see every time you looked at him. But there was a sorrowness trickling in, and you wanted so badly to run up and engulf him with your arms.

“What are you doing here,” you said, the same coldness that his voice had two years ago now dripping from your lips.

“I needed to see you.”

“It’s too late for that,” you said, your voice growing louder. You were protecting yourself and your emotions bubbling to the surface with each decibel of your voice increasing.

“Darl-”

“I said don’t. Call. Me. That.” you said, now completely enraged. The look on his face was small; he knew that you were in control of the conversation. But all it took was for him to softly say your name for the front you had put up to fail. The waterworks began to spin, and you stormed over to him and slammed your hands into his chest, effectively pushing him backwards. He stumbled for a moment, but as you went for the second blow he caught your wrists in his hands. You struggled, screaming at him to leave and thrashing to no avail as you tried to release yourself from Eddie’s grip. The tears were streaming down your face with no signs of stopping, and Eddie held onto you for dear life. You finally gave up, letting yourself fall into the arms you had missed so much. He held you as you cried into his chest, stroking your hair just as he did at Lovers Lake the night everything changed. He slowly led you to your bed, holding you as he sat down to wait out the crying. You couldn’t see it, but a tear slid down his own face. He couldn’t see you like this, he couldn’t see you how he saw you that night.

You had stilled in his arms with the tears from your eyes having finally run out. The two of you sat there for a lifetime, simply holding each other in silence. It wasn’t until you pushed off of him to sit up on your own that he finally took a look at your face, eyes red and puffy and hair messed up from burying it into his chest moments before. Your eyes could barely open as you looked at him, trying desperately to tell him that no matter how long it had been that you had missed him more than anything. He registered your expression, silently saying back I’ve missed you too.

“Why did you do it?” you choked out, your voice hoarse. Your hands were connected just as they had been before you ruined the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“I was so scared,” he said, his voice small and unsure. “I was so scared, you have no idea.”

“You don’t think I was scared too?” you challenged, and his eyebrows softened as he squeezed your hands.

“I know you were, but we were scared for different reasons.”

“I loved you, Eddie,” you vocalized for the first time in your life.

“I know, darling,” he said. Your expression fell. A part of you hoped that he would validate you, say that he had loved you too. But your words were suspended in the air, the unspoken truth now laid out on the bed in front of you.

“Then why did you say the things you did?”

His head hung low, his eyes never looking up at your quizzical face. For two years you wanted to know the answer to that question, but for some reason the couple seconds you had waited for his response in that moment felt like double that time.

“I couldn’t love you.”

There were no tears left to cry, just a breath of a laugh leaving your mouth.

“I couldn’t love you because if I did, I would have lost everything.”

You stared at him, trying to make it make sense in your head. He finally lifted his head to reveal his now-red, tear filled eyes. “Everything, all my ups and all my downs, everything had been with you. You were there for it all. And I knew that I was falling for you, hell, I had already fallen. But I couldn’t admit it because if I had, I would have had to go through the pain of losing the one thing in my life that made it worth living.”

You sat there in silence as you watched tears fall down his cheeks. His lips weren’t quivering, he wasn’t even sniffling. The tears just fell on their own.

“You don’t know how hard it was to watch the days until you left quickly fade away. You don’t know how lonely it felt to know that you were starting a life somewhere else, somewhere new and far away from me that you were so excited about. It drove me crazy to think about all of the new people you’d meet, all the new memories you would make with me in the furthest corner of your mind. It tore me apart, darling, but I couldn’t let my own selfishness stand in the way of something you had worked so hard for,” he said shakily. You wrenched your hands out of his tight grip to lift them to his face. He looked at you with the same red eyes you looked at him with.

“You weren’t going to lose me, I was only a phone call away,” you said softly, and it was his turn to give a dejected smile.

“I know, darling, but it was never enough for me. I couldn’t tell you that I love you then watch you get on a plane and fly two thousand miles away just for you to forget about me. So I said those horrible, regretful things not only to you, but to myself. I thought that if I said them out loud it would make me believe them, but it only made it hurt more to see you so broken,” he said quietly.

“Couldn’t tell me that you love me?” you said, hoping that he wouldn’t change the tense of the words you had wanted to hear for so long.

“It’ll always be present tense. It’ll always be you for me, darling,” he said, the sad smile on his face ever-present. You let out the breath you had been holding, bringing his face closer and capturing his lips with yours. You could taste the salty tears mixed with a hint of the spearmint gum he always chewed, the smell of cigarettes and forest trees invading your senses. He tenderly reached for your waist, pulling you closer to him like he had done before, but this time he had no intention of letting go. Your lips molded together as if no time had passed, and you two melted into each other as your kisses became more passionate. Two years of pent up feelings and misjudged resentment towards each other made their way through as your fingers found their way into his hair and his arms wrapped around your back.

He pulled you under him, laying you down with the same tenderness he had that long time ago. Your hands moved to his waist, toying with the hem of his shirt and waiting for him to allow you to take it off. He rose from you, letting you push the shirt up his torso and arms. Before he leaned back down you had begun to take your own off, and he watched you with loving eyes as you laid back on the bed. He admired you from above, taking in every curve and every mark that he had thought about for as long as you were gone. He ran his hands along your sides, finally bringing them up to your face as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. You could feel him screaming I love you through the motion of his mouth against yours, and he could feel you insisting I love you too with the way your hands pushed him closer to you from the back of his head.

His hand found its way to your core, playing with the edge of the same pajama shorts you had worn that night, and he felt a familiarity as he slowly moved them to the side. His fingers were delicate yet firm as the rubbed circles on your hooded nerves, and you knew that this time he had no intention of stopping. His middle fingers found their way back inside you, slipping in so easily. You sighed into the kiss, having missed the feeling that you had foolishly tried to recreate with nameless guys from forgettable parties. You two parted and looked at each other, cheeks flushed with love and lust as you slowly reached for the waistband of your shorts. He followed your hand with his, and he slowly dragged them down your legs with your underwear in tow. He took a moment to undo his own pants, tugging them down his legs along with his briefs. You didn’t even look at his hard member as you were too enamored with his pretty face, and he crawled back on top of you to line himself up.

Nothing had felt more right as he slowly pushed into you, and your head was thrown back as he bottomed out inside of you. He fit perfectly, and as he started to move you instinctively wrapped your legs around his lower back to hold him close. There were little words shared between the two of you, just small moans and his occasional I missed you baby, so much. You felt the familiar feeling rise in your stomach once his pace had quickened, and you looked up at him to see that he was nearing his release too. One look in each others’ eyes was all you needed, the both of you climaxing with each other in perfect sync.

He pulled out after a while, getting up to get a washcloth to clean you up. Your breath had already been caught as you watched him run the cloth over your heat, careful as not to overstimulate you. He folded the tiny towel and placed it on your dresser, then crawled back into bed with you to tangle your body with his. The silence that had been so deafening before was now filled with love, your eyes saying all the words you both needed to convey. It was nice this way, and the two of you fell asleep, finally safe in each others’ arms.

Your suitcase was packed, and you walked down the stairs mindlessly. The sound of the suitcase hitting each step was the only sound that dragged you back to your reality, but when you reached the bottom of the stairs you felt yourself fall back into dissociation. You and Eddie had spent the last of your days there in each others’ arms, in each others’ beds. It was how it should have been before you left the first time, filled with open hearts and open conversations that only produced laughter and smiles from you both.

But as you walked out the door and saw your friends all waiting for you in the driveway, it set in that you had to leave everything behind all over again.

“Tell me you’re not going to spend another two years away and that you’re coming home for Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Dustin said, and you gave him a genuine laugh.

“I’m coming back, I promise,” you said, rubbing his curls.

“Good, because I swear it’s me and Robin babysitting him and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, I can’t handle these kids alone, and with Dingus over here thinking every girl is ‘the one’ and getting let down every other week I’m going to need some serious help,” Robin pointed out. You smiled and looked over at Steve, who was giving her a hard glare. You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, giving him a long hug before pulling away and giving everyone else their time to say goodbye. It wasn’t until you reached the end of the line that you let yourself feel the weight of you leaving. He had wet eyes, but you knew he would never let your friends see him truly cry.

You reached for him, and when he didn’t reach back you had to envelop him yourself, letting him rest his head on your shoulder as you held him. You could hear the sniffles coming from his nose, and you hid his face from your friends as he tried to regain his composure.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said reassuringly, but even you knew how long the couple months would feel without him.

“I know, baby,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it won’t suck while you’re gone.” You let out a breathy laugh and he smiled back at you, sadness shadowing both of your expressions. He let his forehead press against yours, breathing in your comforting scent of fresh laundry and peonies that he had come to know so well.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

You pulled away from him, afraid that if you stayed any longer you’d miss your flight and stay with him forever. You felt the tap on your shoulder, and you took a deep breath and turned around, walking to the car door. You took one last look at the teenagers who you had loved so much as they waved goodbye, then rested your eyes on the smiling face of Eddie Munson. He gave you a small wave, and you copied him, closing your eyes and sucking in a short breath before finally getting in the car.

You sat in silence as you stared out the window, getting lost in your own thoughts and memories as you drove towards the airport. The feeling of Eddie’s kisses and his arms wrapped around you sent an involuntary smile to your lips, and you closed your eyes, finally feeling at peace. His words from the week before played over in your mind. It’ll always be you for me, darling.

And you knew that it would always be him for you, too.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #soft smut #eddie munson smut #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fan #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger thing #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

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folkloreguk · 3 years ago

Text

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.

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sunkissedpages · 3 years ago

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instead of you [part fourteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 2.6k

series masterlist

“Just that you’re not technically a chef yet,” Tom explained defensively. “You’re not certified.”

“A chef doesn’t need a piece of paper to call themselves a chef,” Leo countered. “Anyone can be a chef. But don’t tell the WAC I said that.”

“Yeah, Tom haven’t you ever seen Ratatouille?” you teased.

“Great movie,” Leo added. “Sam, great job on your dough,” he reiterated.

Sam stuck his tongue out at his brother across the table who rolled his eyes in response as Leo picked up his ball of dough and rolled it in his hands.

“Tom, yours is still a little tough. Keep working on it.”

He nodded and took his dough back to continue kneading it. You noticed his jaw clenched subtly in frustration, but he didn’t say anything else. You watched as he rolled the pasta dough with a little more force, maybe a little too much.

Leo checked yours next and gave you similar feedback to Tom’s, even though Sam had helped you with yours. You didn’t want to think about what kind of feedback you would have gotten on your own.

Your dough was still flaking apart when you went back to working on it, and you tried desperately to hold it together with little success. Sam had left your side to help his mom so you were on your own.

At least Tom was also struggling. You felt a little better knowing he was miserable too.

You were starting to sweat with effort, you were so out of shape that even cooking had you catching your breath. You had thought this was going to be fun, but instead you were having flashbacks to high school P.E. class.

Leo made his way down the rest of the table and checked everyone else’s dough before circling back to you and Tom. He took over for Tom and instructed Sam to finish kneading yours so that he could move on with the lesson. It was embarrassing to be singled out, but Sam assured you it wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t making much progress with yours either.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with yours,” Sam whispered to you.

“I probably did it wrong,” you hissed back.

“I watched you do it, you did it the same way as everyone else.”

“Then why is it being like this?”

“Sometimes food has a mind of its own,” Leo interjected, making you realize the entire class had been listening to you and Sam’s back and forth. “This is good enough, though. We can set it aside with the other balls of dough to let them rest while we make the fillings.”

You and Tom set your sad pasta balls on the counter with the others before moving to the sink to rinse your hands.

“I think they’ll still taste good,” Tom said thoughtfully as he offered the bottle of soap to you and pumped some into your hands.

“I hope so.”

“It’s pasta, it’s almost impossible to fuck it up.”

“Yet somehow we still managed to.”

“Some would say it’s talent,” he said and shrugged.

You bumped his shoulder with your own as you fought over the water stream. You managed to stick your hands in first and Tom put his above yours only for you to shove them away.

“Hey!”

“You’re completely ruining the purpose of washing my hands!”

“I have soap on my hands, you have soap on your hands, what's the issue?”

“And you’re washing off your germs and they’re going on my hands now!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll wait my turn,” he seceded and let you finish washing your hands before he rinsed off his own.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Making the fillings for the pasta was a much simpler process than making the dough. All you had to do was mix certain ingredients together. It didn’t matter what order you added them, if you whisked fast or slow, the only important thing was that everything made it into the bowl one way or another.

You worked in pairs for this step. Sam mixed together the pesto filling while you did the parmesan-truffle one.

“This is different than the pesto I make,” he said, looking at the mixture in his bowl.

You frowned. “But I like your pesto.”

“It’ll still be good, baby,” he assured you with a kiss to the forehead. “Don’t worry.”

When the fillings were done it was time to revisit the balls of dough and roll them into pasta. Sam explained it to you like rolling Play-Doh, but it was far more difficult in your opinion. Play-Doh was nowhere near as stubborn as this. The pasta dough somehow retained tension, and would bounce back every time you tried to stretch it.

Sam ended up having to help you and Tom because both of you were starting at a disadvantage with your fucked up dough.

“I never want to hear you say I have it easier than you ever again,” Sam warned as he folded your strands of dough into raviolis.

The class had moved on to the final step, shaping and filling the noodles, but you had already tapped out. Sam was done with his portion before you had even finished one so he had taken over for you.

“I’m sorry for saying that,” you said, remembering all the times you had teased him for stressing out over his ‘soufflé final’ or ‘crepe labs’. “I would much rather be writing a paper right now.”

He shrugged. “Everyone has their strengths.”

“I’m starting to think that Ratatouille movie was bullshit,” you groaned.

“How ironic,” Tom snorted across from you.

He was really starting to get on your nerves. But you let his comment go, not allowing your temper to get the better of you. He was still Sam’s family, even if they had a... complicated relationship.

When the class finally settled in the dining room of the restaurant to eat you were sweaty, sore, and exhausted. You could feel your skin sticking to the leather seat, and you felt severely underdressed. Back in the kitchen you hadn’t been so self-conscious. But now you couldn’t stop thinking about your appearance.

The atmosphere was much more sophisticated. The lights were dim, and soft music played in the background. All of the other guests were following an unspoken black-tie dress code while the fifteen of you were still wearing your disposable aprons, only now they were covered in flour and egg yolk.

And to make it worse-

“Smile!”

Nikki held up her phone and motioned for you and Sam to scoot your chairs closer together. You took a deep breath and complied, leaning your head against your fake boyfriend’s and managing a grin. You really didn’t want this moment to be immortalized, but you didn’t want to be difficult either.

The camera flashed once, then again. Sam wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled your body against his, pressing a kiss to your cheek for another picture. You scrunched up your face as the flash went off, the tickle of his breath against your skin and the feather-light touch of his lips making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“That’s a good one!” Nikki complimented, even though you were sure it wasn’t as flattering as she was making it out to be.

The pasta was served with a glass of red wine for everyone. Sam was right, the pesto was different from his, but it was still good. It was no match for his recipe, but the handmade pasta did give it a few bonus points. You were sure you hadn’t gotten any of the noodles you made because all of the ones on your plate were perfect. It didn’t feel fair that you got to enjoy somebody else’s hard work while they got your shitty excuse of a ravioli.

But as the wine dwindled from your glass the negative thoughts began to ebb away too. Your muscles, though still sore, relaxed slightly and you rested your head on Sam’s shoulder as everyone else finished their meals around you. The conversation carried on without your contribution. Your social battery had died hours ago, but you were content to listen to the Hollands chat with other students at the table.

You weren’t a huge fan of wine, but the one served with dinner was palatable, and to be honest you weren’t one to turn down complimentary alcohol anyway. It tasted more expensive than anything you had ever drank, like the equivalent of velvet on your tongue. You finished your glass and the rest of Harry’s.

The next few days in Florence passed in a similar fashion. You ate a lot of carbs, drank a lot of alcohol and let the business of the itinerary overwhelm you. It was getting tiring, living in an act. Trailing along behind the Hollands like a dog, worn on Sam’s arm like an accessory.

You had known what you were getting into, and you were trying your best to enjoy the experiences- because who the fuck knows when you’ll ever get to go on such a nice vacation again, but pretending to be in love with your best friend was a harder feat than you had thought.

It felt like being in a school play. Every move and phrase had to be intentional. You tread the lines of your relationship with rehearsed expertise. And you had to watch what you said, because everyone’s eyes were on you. At least that’s what it felt like.

Sam’s parents were easy. They fully bought into your lie, seeing what they wanted to. They usually left you to your own devices, too. His brothers were the ones who needed convincing. Not even Harry, though. Tom was the problem. Tom was always the problem.

You were in Rome now, walking back to the hotel from the Colosseum. Sam had his arm slung around your shoulders and was talking his twin brother’s ear off about the Gladiators and inaccuracies in films about Ancient Rome.

You didn’t think you’d seen him this excited the entire trip. It was cute, the way he talked with his hands and looked off into the distance whenever he was really engaged in something. Harry was also cute. He was trying his best to keep up with Sam, nodding his head at all the right points, asking questions when there was a pause in conversation.

“Yeah, gladiators fucking unionized,” Sam explained. “They put their lives on the line all the time, ya know? Might as well get benefits.”

“If I was a gladiator I’d join their union,” you said, adding to the conversation for the first time in a while.

“There were women gladiators too, babe! You totally could’ve been one.”

You laughed. “You remember my season on the intramural dodgeball team? I wouldn’t last a day. But I appreciate the thought, Sammy.”

You had dinner in the restaurant attached to the hotel lobby. Nikki passed around her Canon for everyone to look through the pictures from the day while a bottle of limoncello was passed around the table.

You’d scarfed down your pasta and passed on dessert in favor of another shot of limoncello. Rookie mistake.

In the past the sugary drink had always tasted like cough syrup to you, but this batch tasted like straight-up lemonade. You were tipsy, bordering on drunk, but nowhere near blacked. Nikki and Dom turned in around shot three, leaving the tab open for the four of you. Sam went upstairs next, having gone too hard too fast on the limoncello (he was on shot five when his parents went back to their room).

Then it was just You, Harry, and Tom. You told Sam you’d join him in a bit after the pianist played a couple more songs. In all honesty, the music reminded you of Sam. Back at school you could always find Sam in the music hall if he wasn’t in the culinary building. You’d always hear him playing as soon as you walked through the double doors. You could always tell it was him at the keys by the way the playing sounded. He was self-taught, but still a genius in your mind. He didn’t need any formal training to make beautiful music, and that’s what you loved about it.

When he moved out of the dorms and into an apartment he bought a keyboard, and you’d spend nights together in his room illegally pirating sheet music for him to learn new songs. He’d play whatever you requested, and if he didn’t know how to play it he’d teach himself.

The pianist in the restaurant played with a little more expertise. The notes sounded refined, perfected. Sam always told you that perfect music was restrained music, that real music had flaws, that a song should sound a little different every time it was played.

After an encore of Beethoven the man at the piano stood from his bench and took a bow, passing his hat around the room to collect tips. Tom dropped a bill into the hat and you did as well, handing it back to the man afterwards. He dumped the contents of the hat into a briefcase and closed the lid of the piano, thanking everyone in the audience for their donations.

“Well, I think I’m going to head up now,” Harry said, yawning for emphasis. “We still have to get up at the ass crack of dawn even though we’ll all probably be hungover.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tom said cockily, then turned to you. “One more shot?”

The bottle of limoncello was almost empty anyway. Might as well finish it off, it’d be a shame to let it go to waste, right?

“Hit me.”

“God, you’re both going to be so fucked tomorrow,” Harry groaned.

“We’ll be fine,” Tom insisted, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

“Good night, Harry,” you sang, waving at him as he walked off.

“Yeah whatever.”

Tom wasted no time pouring you both a shot of what was left of the limoncello. The restaurant was beginning to clear out so he worked fast, filling the glasses up to the marked line. You both took one and clinked them together before throwing them back.

You winced at the burning sensation in the back of your throat and put the glass back on the table, searching for something to chase the shot with. Your eyes fell to Tom, lingering on his cheeks, his lips, both pink from the alcohol or something else. You flicked your gaze down to his neck, his collarbone that was peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. You thought about how it would feel to kiss him there, to run your tongue over a love bite you’d given him.

You forced your gaze back to his eyes, hoping he hadn’t caught you staring. You had to act uninterested, you couldn’t let on to- but he was staring back. His eyes were intense, and almost impossible to read in the darkness of the room. You knew you should look away, knew you had to keep up appearances, but you couldn’t.

Later you’d blame it on the alcohol, but in that moment you knew the limoncello wasn’t what was making your head spin, or your what was making your vision cloudy.

You were about to leave the table, about to rush to the elevator and back to Sam but then suddenly Tom was kissing you. He cradled your head in his hand and tilted your chin up to meet his lips. It wasn’t desperate or messy like most drunk kisses were. Instead, it was delicate. You swore you could feel every line of his lips against yours, feel his heartbeat through his hands on your cheek.

It was only for a second, not enough time for you to react or reciprocate and then he was pulling away, eyes wide with panic.

“Please don’t tell Sam.”

logging off before i get yelled at but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x fem reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland series

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers. But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules. Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

- All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

part 2

5K notes · View notes

alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

Photo

Easy come, easy go

“I’m saying, we’re not going to be okay when we’re apart. I’m not sure if I could give the same efforts you’re about to offer in the future,”

Pairing: Jeno x female!reader Genre: SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST. Enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, summer love WC: 3,038k Warnings: female reader wears lipstick, jeno putting on lipstick to you, swearing, mentions of parties and one beer, but no alcohol consumption, high school graduates so it the summer before college starts. Unprotected sex, mentions of making out, breakup, couch sex, mentions of other idols. A/N: I’m in a jeno mood for days already now ughs

It all started this summer, where your cousin Haechan introduced you to some of his friends to somehow help you make new friends over the summer. Having new friends is nice of course, who wouldn't want that. But meeting Lee Jeno and being nice to him was the worst decision you made so far. He was annoying, rude, has poor eyesight and seriously you don't understand why girls go crazy over him. It's like he is this walking nightmare the whole summer that you try to avoid at all costs but you just can't because he and Haechan are best friends.

"The guy likes you. Jeno is not usually "rude" to girls, in fact, he's good with girls. So just have more patience with him," Haechan explains after you rant your heart out during a house party. "Fix your lipstick its smudge- I'll go get you a beer, wait here" and so you did, you took out your phone and your lipstick, trying to re-apply it under the dim lights and neon lights, then suddenly someone bumped your shoulder so hard and spilled their drink on your thin blouse.

It was Jeno. And instead of saying sorry he let out a small laugh and pretended that he didn't do it on purpose. "You look like a clown- uh, your lips... here let me get that for you-"

"Fuck you. Don't touch me," you said sternly and walked away. Leaving Jeno completely speechless and worried because he really did fucked up this time.

You looked for the nearest bathroom and wash away the beer from your blouse but it's useless. The beer stained already it's so obvious, not to mention your face is a mess and Jeno was right you look like a clown because you didn't notice you put on too much lipstick earlier. "Fuck" you murmured and got a tissue to wipe away your ruined makeup.

"Y/n, it's Jeno uhm... Can you please open the door so we could talk, and I could apologize sincerely" he rests his head on the door while holding on to the knob, waiting for you to open it. Thankfully, you did but not because you're being soft this time, you only opened the door because sooner or later you have to deal with him and you rather talk to him in private.

"What?" you asked without meeting his eyes and trying to re-apply your lipstick again but this time you're sure you'll get it right.

"I really didn't mean it earlier. I have poor eyesight and as you can see I don't have glasses right now, so that's why... I'm really sorry." he explained, short but you know it's the truth. He wouldn't come and find you if he didn't want to apologize.

"Apology accepted," you leaned on the mirror and continue to what you're doing but to your surprise, he came closer, grabbed you by the waist gently, and took the lipstick out of your hand.

"Turn towards me," you do as you're told, he then lifted your head, and then you watch him put a little pigment on his middle finger, just enough for your lips and just how you like it. Is he really this good with girls that he even knew how to apply lipstick? "Part you lips," he requests.

But it was a request that made the atmosphere a little warmer and it both made your hearts beat so fast.

Gently then he dabs his finger lightly on your lips, carefully putting enough color into it and careful not to ruin it again for the second time. And when he's done, you simply locked eyes and that's when you saw that he does like you.

Then he kissed you and stopped the world for you. Everything turned silent even though the party music outside the bathroom was blaring and everyone seems to be shouting. It was a quick kiss but it felt so good and right at the same time that Jeno asked for more and wanted to deepen the kiss but you stopped him.

"Okay okay. I understand now," you giggle and erased the pigment on his lips with your thumb. "Let's take it slow," you said and smiled at him but the man who's smiling so big in front of you reached out for the doorknob and locked it. You would be lying if you say you don't want him to kiss you again.

A few days after the kiss, Jeno didn't stop teasing you in front of his friends but it got lessen. A few days later, the little crush grew and grew until Jeno decided he really wanted to try and make things work with you. He can be so annoying to the point that you wanted to punch him, but you know that he's serious when it comes to his feelings. Jeno can be a real asshole sometimes, but the man knew how to make you happy and smile privately.

After the first month of summer, you and Jeno had the time of your lives and spend your precious time together privately. Night swimming in his house, sneaking out to make out during parties with friends, you visiting him during his work and wait for him until its closing time. The first month was beautiful and you didn't expect you would have a great time with someone you used to hate. Even though you hide what relationship you have from everyone, you and Jeno love the privacy and to be honest you don't care if he doesn't flex you to everyone. The man loves you and that's what's important.

“Welcome, beautiful”

Jeno said with a big and teasing smile as you enter the coffee shop his family owns and where he usually works whenever he’s free. “You here to see me? I knew it, you always had a crush on me” he teases further.

“No dumbass, I’m here to buy Haechan a cake,” you said, scanning the displayed cakes and avoiding to look at Jeno’s handsome smile. “I’ll take the birthday cake, and three candles please”

You watch Jeno put the cake and secure it in a box, with the three candles as requested. Giving it to you before he accepts your payment, "You're really not here for me? While I think about you every second of the day?" he pouts and crossed his arms.

"Oh you're annoying, see you tonight" you rolled your eyes but left a smile before you leave him.

Tonight is Haechan's birthday and everyone at home was busy preparing for the party including you. It's a sleepover, only Haechan's closest friends and a few family members were invited that's why you're lucky you get to sleep with Jeno tonight, you just have to plan out how you can sneak out without the others seeing you.

As the party started and guests started arriving, you and Jeno barely talked to each other because you were busy talking to your relatives. But he never let you out of his sight, he was watching you from afar and listing the names of the guys who talk to you tonight in his head. And when all family members came home and everyone who stayed are all drunk and sleeping, you went downstairs to where Jeno is sleeping and brought him a pillow and a blanket.

"Thought you forgot about me already, hi" he waited for you on the couch while he's laying comfortably there with all the lights turned off and only the light from the swimming pool illuminates the room.

"Don't you want to sleep somewhere comfortable?" you whisper and sat on top of him, legs on both of his sides.

"Now that you're on top of me, this is my definition of comfort" he smiled so sweetly and reached for your face to cup it and kiss you. "Let's sleep here tonight," he whispered and pulled your body closer to him. Lips moving, tongue swirling on each other while your hands are intertwined. Letting yourselves enjoy this quiet night for this busy day kept you both apart from each other for so long.

"Jaemin was too friendly with you earlier,"

"I didn't notice- wait, you were watching me the whole time?" you whispered back.

"Of course I'm watching you,"

"Well if we go out in public he wouldn't be so clueless, and you wouldn't end up hating your friend"

"I like the privacy we have. Plus do you realize how much teasing we'd get from Haechan?" you agreed to him and placed your head on top of his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "You know when I first saw you my heart beat so fast that I ended up being rude to you instead of acting cute," you feel the vibrations of his giggle and hear him well. It was just a few words, a sincere gesture and, a little honesty but it made you feel something deep inside that made you confess your love to him.

"I love you. I know it's too early to say it, but there I said. I love you," you hide your face on the side of his neck and feel him soothe your back.

"I was planning to say it first, that's not fair. But, me too. I love you too." he searched for your eyes and flashed a handsome smile at you. Tracing your lips as he remembers the first night he kissed you for the first time. Then you came closer to him for a kiss but the moment heated in no time and the next thing you know you're pulling down Jeno's shorts and palm his big cock through his boxers briefs.

He let out guttural sounds, proof that he's loving the pleasure but careful enough not to be heard so you kissed him and caught all his moans as you continue to work on his cock and eventually started grinding on top of him.

"Are we really having our first on a couch?" he whispered in between kissing, hands started to undo the buttons from your sleepwear. Finally exposing yourself to him, "beautiful as always," he murmured but you rolled your eyes on him, making you both giggle quietly. You removed his shirt and proceed to kiss his very hot body, kissing him on the neck, his collar bones, abs, and most importantly, his sensitive nipples that made him part his lips when your tongue made contact with it. "You're going to be the death of me," he said and slipped his hand inside your thin shorts to palm your ass. You then took initiative, to remove your shorts and throw it on the floor. Now that you're both only in your underwear it made you even more excited.

Slowly Jeno let his hand wander around your body, touching your boobs for the very first time and brushing his fingers oh so softly on your nipples and make them hard just like what you did to his. Until you intentionally came closer to him so you're boobs are near his face and did not hesitate to suck it until both of your nipples are swollen.

"When was the last time you had sex?" he whispered beside your ear and the way he asked you just made you breathe in deeply and let out a small moan.

"Let's just say that it's been too long that you will think you're fucking a virgin,"

"It's going to be a long night then," he said and immediately put two fingers inside you which made you hold onto his shoulder and grind on his fingers. "You were right," Jeno felt how tight you were and became more excited that he moved his finger deeper and curled them, massaging your tight walls and watching you enjoy the pleasure that he give you while you're on top of him.

Then he removed it and you let out a heavy sigh because of frustration, you were so wet by this time and you see his boxers briefs stained with your pussy juices and you swear, you wanted to get mad at him but now is not the time. "Put your fingers back in please,"

“You were so close to cumming, don't you want to cum on my dick instead?" he asked you, pulling his hard cock from his boxers briefs and reaching for your hand for you to palm it and feel how big he is. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you look at how big he is and you knew right then and there that he will feel good. So you position yourself comfortably on top of him, touching yourself for a few seconds before you let him line his cock on your hole.

"Just go slow," he said before you sink down and take him whole. Lips parting and eyebrows furrowing as you take him and let his big cock stretch you out. And when it's finally in, you breathe in and out heavily before you move your hips and make you both feel good.

"Oh fuck" he croaked and place his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him so he could keep you close. "Go slower," he whispered beside your ear then watch your pussy swallow his dick. The sight of it just made him want to fuck you hard tonight, break you and make you scream but he can't.

From the tip of his cock right to his balls, you were that deep that you were both losing your minds at that very moment. His hands roam around your body but it mostly stays on your ass, caressing your butt cheeks and teasing your butthole for a few times so you clench around him. "That's cheating," you joke and kissed him.

He pulled you in for a hug and focused on how you fuck him. Yes, fuck him. And this time a little faster and deeper that he's already on edge and making faces already. Faces that he does whenever he's about to have a mind blowing orgasm that he rarely gets. "K-keep fucking me like that," he said with deep groans, one arm around your waist and one arm reaches for your clit.

"Baby, you don't have to do that- fuck that feels good, mmm" his fingers were enough to make you crazy that you ended up fucking him faster, that the couch creaks already and anyone who is awake can definitely tell you're fucking on the couch.

And when the most awaited moment comes, he pushed you away so he could pull out and pump his cock and let his cum land on his stomach. With heavy breaths and a weak body, Jeno looked at you so lovingly at the other side of the couch. Reaching for his shirt to clean his cum so you could go back to your comfort on top of him.

"I'm sorry you didn't cum,” he said softly, sitting up to reach for you and kiss your shoulders as you busy yourself to wear your panties and sleepwear again. Jeno did the same before you two squeeze your bodies on the small couch. Laying bodies to bodies, sharing one blanket and keeping each other close the whole night.

And when the morning comes, you woke up alone on the couch with the blanket perfectly covering your body from the morning breeze.

Days after that fateful night, you and Jeno find ways to have sex whenever you can and enjoy the second month of summer together doing the things you want to do together, going on places and making unforgettable memories. But just as your relationship was going well, you didn’t expect it to fall right before your eyes.

While you were walking hand in hand on the street just after he ends his shift at the cafe and promised to walk you home, you were reminded of the following things you have to deal with just before this summer ends. And because you’re preparing for your college move-in next month, you mentioned it to Jeno for the first time with excited eyes and high pitched tones. “Am I boring you? Sorry, I was just excited” you said. And then he stopped walking.

“I’m not good with long distance. I love you but I know myself, I could end up cheating and hurting you-“

“Where is this coming from? What are you saying? What are you implying?” you asked, question after question because you have no idea why he’s acting like this. You didn’t expect that your excitement for your college dorms will spark something that will ruin your day.

“I’m saying, we’re not going to be okay when we’re apart. I’m not sure if I could give the same efforts you’re about to offer in the future,” he avoided eye contact and clenched his jaw. You’ve never seen him cold like this before.

“So in other words you’re telling me that eventually, we will break up? You just can’t say it to my face because you’re a coward who would rather give up than try the whole long distance shit first?”

Unfortunately, he nodded. And you don’t know why you’re still holding his hand so let him go and walked away.

��Y/n- fuck,” he followed you and tried stopping you, “let's not do this tonight please, it's so sudden,”

You closed your eyes and tried so hard not to cry in front of him. He just kept on saying the wrong words and it's breaking your heart.

“I would rather accept this sudden situation than let you hurt me slowly on the following days.” you shook your head and show him your disappointment. And what hurts you the most is he didn’t even tried to fight for you, or say he's sorry or admit that he’s wrong. He just let you walk away and throw everything that you built tonight.

A few days after your break up, Jeno regrets everything he did that he even tried reaching out to you and Haechan. But he was too late. You left because you can’t stay there and wait for him to chose you again, only to have the same answers that you get on the night you broke up.

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chrisevansjellybeans · 4 years ago

Text

Happier | Part One

A/N: Once again Tumblr decides to not have my work show up on the tags. But here is part one of a multi-fic!

Summary: Reader is Chris’s best freind who has been harboring feelings for him for a while. When they are finally reunited after he’s been gone for filming she’s shocked to find out that he’s coming back with a little more than just himself.

Word Count: 1479

Warnings: swearing, slightly angsty

You wiped your palms against the fabric of your dress as you watched the front door of the fancy restaurant that Chris had picked out. He was finally back from filming in Canada where he had been for the last six months and you had missed him like crazy.

You had met Chris when you first moved to Boston. You had decided to check out your new neighborhood and you had always believed that nothing gave you more insight on the neighborhood than its local dive bar. The Dirty Robber just screamed classic Boston dive bar and when you walked in your suspicions were confirmed. He had been sitting at the bar and you just a couple stools down. Before you knew it you were talking until bar close and a friendship blossomed from there.

You had obviously known who he was and you weren’t going to lie, were starstruck when he took off his hat that first night in the bar. But after many coffee and lunch get-togethers you realized that he was more than the movie star you had known him to be.

That was five years ago. And of course you had to fall victim to the cliche of “I’m the best friend of the super hot guy who has no idea I feel that way and doesn’t see me as any more than a friend or worse a little sister.” So you did what you did best. You suppressed the feelings and put on a brave face and didn’t say anything to him.

And now here you were, waiting in a fancy restaurant, wearing a hot red dress in hopes that in his time away your best friend realized that just maybe he had feelings for you too.

“Can I get you another water?” You broke out of your trance and turned to the waitress who was smiling down at you.

“Um yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” She nodded and you turned your attention back to the door.

You felt your heart flutter as Chris walked through the double doors. He ran his fingers through his hair as he paused at the door and looked around the restaurant, looking for you. You felt your body stand as you went to raise your hand to get his attention. But then you froze. It was like ice had gone through your veins and stopped all motion.

A beautiful woman walked up behind Chris and lovingly wrapped her arms around his torso. Her blonde hair perfectly curled and rested down her back. She had a smile, like Chris, that lit up the whole room. Her dress was a beautiful emerald green that fit perfectly to her curves.

You lowered yourself into your seat as you felt your heart start to shatter. You watched with glossy eyes as Chris finally spotted you and his smile grew. He grabbed the woman’s hand and led her towards you. You willed your tears to dry as they got closer and you put on your best smile.

“Hey stranger.” Chris sighed as he pulled you into a bone crushing hug. You closed your eyes and took in his scent. Something that you missed for the last half year. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

Your heart pounded at the nickname. It was so mundane and so universally used but Chris had been calling you that for as long as you’ve known him and when it left his lips it just hit differently.

“I’ve missed you too, buddy.” You looked past him to the blonde woman who was waiting patiently. You cleared your throat and moved past Chris. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh I know. Chris has told me so much about you, I feel like we are already friends.” She smiled genuinely.

Wish I could say the same.

“Sweetheart, this is Carissa.” Chris put an arm around her, smiling down at her. “My girlfriend.”

And there it was. The dagger that pierced your heart.

“Wow.” You forced out. Chris raised his eyebrow at your lackluster excitement. His eyes asking you that silent question you didn’t want to answer. You cleared your throat and put on a bigger smile. “Wow! Go to Canada for a job and come back with a girlfriend? Way to go, Evans.”

Carissa laughed and looked up at Chris with the same adoration you had for him.

“Isn’t it crazy? We met on set and it was love at first sight.” Carissa’s voice was like music. Was there nothing wrong with this girl?

“Love at first sight? Wow.” You smiled at her. The words were forced and your expression wasn’t genuine but she would never know. You had years of masking your emotions in your pocket.

But Chris knew you. He knew when you genuinely smiled your eyes sparkled. And when you were excited your voice raised slightly by an octave. He had heard it many times. He knew that you weren’t being as genuine as you thought you were portraying. He watched you closely as you and Carissa continued chatting and you tried not to be affected by his stare.

As you all ate and talked you felt your heart sink further as you soon realized that Carissa was in fact one of the nicest people on the planet. A true and caring person who clearly adored Chris as much as you did. She was everything that you wished you could be. Because clearly that was what Chris wanted.

As the three of you stood outside the restaurant waiting for the valet to bring up the cars you wrapped your shawl tightly around yourself. Mentally slapping yourself for not thinking to bring a jacket. Usually Chris would wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest and would rest his chin on your head. He was like your own personal blanket. But now he was doing it with her. Your body trembled as you looked anywhere but where the happy couple was standing.

“You should come to the house soon. We can have a girls night.” Carissa had moved away from Chris and was now standing by you. Her fingers lightly holding your arm. “You just mean so much to Chris and I really want us to be friends.”

You glanced over at Chris who was animatedly talking to another valet. He looked over at the both of you quickly and shot you a wink which made you turn away immediately.

“Um yeah, that would be fun. How long are you in town for?”

“Until further notice. Chris hasn’t officially asked but he’s basically moving all of my stuff from Canada here.” She giggled. “So whenever you are free I would love to do something. Chris can go over by his mom’s.”

“What are you ladies plotting over here?” You tensed as Chris’s hands playfully rubbed your shoulders before pulling Carissa to his side.

“Just a girls night.” She reached up and pecked him on the cheek. “No boys allowed.”

Chris raised his hands in defense, a smile taking over his whole face. “Hey, I’ll be out of your hair whenever that happens.”

You opened your mouth to say something but the cars pulled up. You made your way to your car but stopped when you felt a familiar hand grip your upper arm.

“Babe, wait for me in the car. I’ll just be a second.”

Your eyes were closed as you steadied your breathing. Slowly you turned around to face your best friend.

“What’s up?” You folded your arms.

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” Chris rested his hands on his hips. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Chris.”

“No you’re not. What is it? Do you not like her?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched your best friend fidget nervously. He wanted you to like her so much. This was so real for him. And here you were acting jealous when you really had no reason to. It’s not his fault that you were too scared to tell him how you really felt. And now it was too late.

“She’s amazing, Chris. She’s everything and more than what I expected you to end up with.” You gently patted his chest and you felt his heartbeat start to slow. “Seriously. You seem...happier.”

If only it had been because of you.

Chris ran his fingers through his hair before pulling you in for a quick hug. “I love you, Y/N. Your approval means everything.”

You nodded and pulled away from him, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

“I’ll see you later, Chris. Welcome home.” You didn’t wait for him to respond before you got into your car and drove off. The tears you had been holding back all night finally falling.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans

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guqwrvte · 3 years ago

Note

hello! if the quite game is still on, can i request smth for "its always my fault" and like, it begins really really angsty but ends in fluff? thank u so much for your time on this! i hope u have a great week💕

⨽ pairing: jimin x reader

⨽ genre: fluff , angst

⨽ warnings: strong language (one swear word i think) , crying (guys, is crying a warning??) y/n feels at fault ( :/ ) , uhh there are mean people with mean comments (?)

"Really? y/n, again?" Ari asked, pausing the music. "Why can't you get it right?" she asked again.

"We've been stuck on the same part for the past three practices! Three fucking practices! And it's all because of you," she yelled, causing you to flinch.

"Have you even been practising? I thought I asked you to go over it at home so that we won't have to waste time during practice. But here we are, wasting, yet again." she mumbled the last part.

"Let's finish here for today. We'll continue tomorrow. Hopefully, y/n will get this part right so we can move on."

"I really don't understand you. Why'd you even join the dance club? You can barely stay on your feet," Jae snickered. "Right? How do you have the courage to keeping here? Do you enjoy embarrassing yourself?" Nari said. "Just quit and find something else to do. It's your fault we're stuck on this part anyway. Showing yourself out would do us a real favour," she whispered before walking out.

You stood there with your head hung low. You could hear the whispers of the other girls. Some were laughing at you, as usual, while others were whispering encouraging words, telling you it was okay.

Once everyone had left the practice room, you fell to the floor, letting the tears you were struggling to hold back fall. Anyone could come back into the practice room and witness you in this horrible state, but you didn't care.

You were tired of getting scolded in front of all members. You were tired of feeling as if everything was your fault.

"Why'd you even join the dance club? You can barely stay on your feet."

You recalled Jae's words. She was right, you weren't the best dancer, and you knew that, but you kept coming to practice in the hope that you'd improve and become a better dancer. But were you really improving? You kept making mistakes and messing up the choreography.

You were slowing down the others in the process.

Maybe everything was your fault.

"I heard that you're in here- y/n?" you looked in the mirror to see your boyfriend standing at the door. "y/n, y/n, baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Jimin asked, rushing towards and sitting next to you.

You sobbed into your hands. "I keep making the same mistakes over and over again, Jimin," you said. "It's okay to make mistakes. I'm sure the others are making mistakes too," he said, pulling you into his embrace, stroking your head as you cried into his shoulder.

"But it's not the same. Their mistakes don't stop us from continuing the choreography. Mine do," you said. "It's my fault that we're stuck on this part. Whenever we're stuck on a specific part in the choreography, it's always my fault, Jimin. It's always my fault," you whispered the last part, and Jimin let out a sigh.

Jimin placed his hand on your head and lifted your head from his shoulder. You started at your hands, and Jimin softly smiled. "Look at me y/n," he said, placing both his hands on your cheeks.

Your eyes met with his, and he smiled, wiping your tears. "It's not your fault, y/n," he said. "It's not your fault, baby. You just need more practice than the others, and that's totally okay. Everyone moves at their own pace," he said.

"How about this. I'll help you practice, hm? Show me where you're stuck, and I'll help you get it right. No matter how many times you mess up, I'll help you until you get it right," he said, giving you a soft smile. "Okay?" he asked, and you nodded. "Okay."

You showed Jimin a video of the choreography you and your members were learning. You pointed out all the parts you were struggling to get right, and he went over each one with you.

"Don't worry, you've almost got it." "There you go. You're getting the hang of it." He'd say, encouraging you to continue each time you felt like giving up.

You were so grateful to have someone as supportive as Jimin.

You danced and danced for hours, perfecting each and every move. Jimin stayed and danced with you, not leaving you alone for a minute.

"y/n..." Jimin said, stopping you. You looked at him through the mirror, afraid you made a mistake again. "You did it, baby," he said, flashing you the biggest smile. Your eyes widened. "I did?" you asked, and he nodded.

"You did it, and you've seemed to master the whole routine too! You're going to be ahead of the others now," he said, and you couldn't help but smile.

You ran into his arms, catching him by surprise. "Thank you so much for helping me, baby." You thanked, tightly wrapping your arms around him. "You don't have to thank me, I was more than happy to help-" you cut him off by placing your lips on his.

Jimin tightened his hold around your waist. He slowly closed his eyes and hummed in response, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against his.

"Thank you," you said once you pulled away from the kiss. "I'm just... I'm so happy that I got it right. And it's all thanks to you," you said.

Jimin sheepishly smiled. "No, it's not," he whispered before lowering your body to the ground.

"Would you like to go over the choreography one more time?" he asked, and you shook your head. "I'll go over it tomorrow before practice. Right now, all I want to do is go to your apartment and spend the night with you. Doing whatever you want, since you spent so much time helping me with this. Would you like that?" you asked.

Jimin nodded before placing his lips on yours.

high sorry if this isn't angsty, i'm not the best at writing angst :(

i think this is the most detailed request i’ve gotten so far lol

part of quote game , submit request here

#jimin fanfic #jimin drabble #jimin fluff #jimin angst #asks #jimin x reader #park jimin #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop drabbles #bts fluff #bts angst #bts #bts x reader #jimin oneshot #bts one shot

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letsloveimagines · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: Forever

Pairing: Corpse Husband x female!reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: How about one where Corpse proposes? With flowers and everything! Like he went out of his comfort zone to propose to you in public because he felt like you deserved it!

Word Count: 2225

Warnings: luff and some swearing

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

♦⋅☆⋅♦

The little black box, with that important thing hidden inside, weighed in the pocket of his dark jeans as he headed for her condo. Corpse's breathing was fast, his hands were shaking immensely, and his heart was beating fast, so fast that it seemed to want to escape his chest.

He strode, always faster than anyone, avoiding people who came in the opposite direction as far away as possible. The further away the better.

Swallowing hard feeling a lump in his throat, Corpse looked at the sky, which at that moment was a sea of red, orange and yellow, indicating that it would not be long before dark and for the moon to replace the sun.

Grabbing his phone and watching the time, he quickened his pace even more, playing with the rings on his long fingers and feeling his back cold with the nervous sweat.

He was ready, however, and he was sure that Y/N was the one. Since that day they met at the small cafe, he knew she was his forever. That day Corpse had risked going out for the first time in a very long time, trying to win even though he knew he would never really be able, at least not as he almost did now with her. That red-haired employee looked at him bored - certainly tired and dissatisfied with his own life, but who wasn’t? - his deep voice stuttering nervously as he tried to place the order. He succeeded there, and the minutes that it took the employee to complete it were truly terrifying. He said a small thank you, handed over the money, and in the moment he took the cup his hands were shaking so much that he thought he was going to drop it. Everyone was looking at him, Corpse was able to feel their gaze and there was nothing he wanted to do but disappear from there. But then an angel came up to him, gently touched his hands assuring him that everything was fine, and offering him a big, beautiful smile that made him dreamy for the rest of the day. Cliché he had the notion of that, but so incredibly good that remembering it makes him feel butterflies in his belly.

The memory was long enough to reach its destination, and the nerves tripled at the moment he saw the condominium of white and brown buildings. He was quick to send a message to let her know that he was already there, and it didn't take long to receive one in exchange of her saying she was going down as fast as she could.

Corpse took a deep breath, leaning against the wall with the white paint a little chipped and in need of a new coat of paint, and reached into his pocket feeling the velvet box stroking his fingerprints. It was still there, safe and heavy with all hopes for a bright future.

"Hey, love." Y/N’s sweet voice sounded nearby, along with the sound of her elegant footsteps.

"Hey, babe.." Corpse greeted pulling the mask away slightly - he couldn't get out without it, even on that very important day - and kissed his girlfriend's black-colored lips (she started to like seeing herself in black since they were together). It was a gentle kiss but full of longing and security, and especially full love. Her lips tasted like blackberries, which he loved, and the black lipstick helped to highlight the beautiful features of her face that only left him even more enchanted. How he was lucky enough to have someone so wonderful in his shitty life? This was something that Corpse questioned every day…

Y/N's eyes were bright when they pulled away and she smiled sweetly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I missed you."

"As did I, baby. Where do you want to go?"

"I thought it would be good for us to take a little walk."

"Are you sure? We can stay home if you want to, or if you don’t feel comfortable." Oh, how he loved her. Y/N was so understanding and attentive, and if she was another girl, she would have left his sorry ass a long time ago. And yes, Corpse was uncomfortable being on the outside, in plain sight, but it was something he wanted to do for her.

"I'm sure, let's go. It will be dark soon."

Y/N was quick to get to his left side, interlacing their fingers when they joined hands, Corpse's bigger hand practically swallowing hers.

Without further ado they began to walk calmly, Corpse remembering to slow down knowing that it would be difficult for his girlfriend to keep up with his hurried pace.

"I was thinking that we could go to dinner at that restaurant that you like." He informed her. It was a small and quiet restaurant, and they had been there before. It had gone well and without any problem. That was how he wanted it that night.

"Sure, I'd love it as long as it's okay with you." Y/N looked at him again with an uncertain look.

Corpse stroked her small hand. "I'll be fine as long as I'm with you."

The pink tone on her cheeks and the passionate smile with which she presented him made it all worthwhile.

On the way to the restaurant they talked about their days. Y/N told him how it had been a little busy day (she was a graphic designer) and she had already finished the cover of a fantasy book, and given it to the writer when he decided he wanted to change something at the last minute. She managed to do so, but not without feeling that she would tear her hair out in frustration. Corpse pulled her closer to him and assured her that everything was fine, that she was great at what she did and that better days would come.

He was telling her about the two-hour stream playing with the friends he had made, and the music he was writing, when they finally arrived.

They went in, asked for a table further away and without much trouble went to sit in their seats, with the menu on the wooden table waiting for them. There was no need to look though, whenever they went there they asked for the same thing, so that's what they did. She ordered spaghetti bolognese and for him just a vegetable soup with chicken. To accompany, they ordered a small bottle of wine. Corpse's left leg swung quickly, while discreetly touching his pocket.

"Is everything alright, baby?" She asked at the same time that the food was being served.

"Yes, don't worry."

Y/N didn’t stop looking at him with concern, but she did not insist. While they ate they were talking about nothing and everything, enjoying the feeling of being in public in what had been a long time. The restaurant was almost empty, with just another couple at a distant table with their backs to them, which made him more comfortable. It was small with the floor, tables and chairs all in wood, with brick walls with a rustic effect, and small iron lamps lighting the place almost lovingly.

Time passed and Corpse's nervousness only grew. They ate and drank wine, enjoyed dessert, and were happy and smiling.

Corpse was helping Y/N to put on the black leather jacket - her outfit consisted of comfortable shoes, red pants and a cute black tank top, as well as the delicate shamrock necklace he had given her on their one year anniversary -, when she questioned him curiously. "We are going home now?

"Let's go out for a little while." The beautiful girl's surprised look did not escape him, even he was surprised that he was succeeding to do that.

They left the restaurant after paying and ventured into the city, holding hands and full of soft words. Every now and then, Y/N would lift his hand to her lips and give a small kiss on the skin full of protruding veins.

The stars shone in the middle of the night, the moon was full and round, high and illuminating the path to the park. There were wooden benches every few meters, tall street lamps peeking out near the trees and the round lake by the children's swing. Y/N used to go there in her childhood.

They sat on the grass by the lake, their feet immersed in the cold water that reflected the moon. They were silent for a moment, completely at peace watching the couple of swans swimming nearby, gently cutting the water and with their long white necks almost intertwined.

It was now. Now was the moment.

"Y / N…"

"Yes, Corpse?" She looked at him with the stars shining in her eyes, and leaving him speechless.

Corpse’s heart sped up, blood pounded in his ears and his hands trembled when he opened his coat and removed the flower he had protected in the inner pocket. The black rose was in perfect condition, sparkling with the small silver particles that embellished the petals.

He handed it over to Y/N, who accepted her happily with a smile almost as big as his love for her.

"Oh, babe, it's beautiful! Thank you so much."

He smiled shyly, with extremely sweaty palms, and watched as the girl in front of him admired the flower, without knowing that she was also being admired by him.

"I do not deserve you." He said at last, immediately regretting it seeing her smile fading.

"What are you saying?"

"I-"

"Babe, you’re really scaring me right now. What's going on?" Y/N's gentle hands came to his face, taking off his mask (which was fine by him because he trusted her absurdly, and they were alone), and caressed the skin of his cheeks with concern.

"Let me talk before I turn myself into a coward once again. I don't deserve you, I have a full sense of that, you're too good for me and kinder than anyone will ever be. I'm not a religious person, my life didn't allow me to be , but since we’re together I pray every day that you would not wake up one day, and realize that it’s not me who you want by your side."

"It will never happen, you are everything I ever wanted." She whispered.

"I am not... but you are what I always desired." He smiled. "You take my problems when you shouldn't, you help me and you take care of me. I can talk to you about everything because I know my secrets with you are safe. You support me when I doubt myself, and you do it all without asking for anything in return. "

"I just want your love."

Corpse kissed her, feeling the soft brush of her lips against his. Just a simple kiss from her was enough to calm him down for good. "You already have it." He assured her, then touched the velvet box and took it out of his pocket. Y/N's shocked sigh filled the air, and she raised her hands to her mouth. "And I know that I will never be enough, that I will never be good enough... But I will try. From sunrise to bedtime I swear to love you and try to make you happy every day. And if one day I don't, I know that I wasted the best thing I have in my fucking life... "

The tears overflowed from her eyes, sliding down her face in rivers of happiness. "Corpse…"

Corpse opened the box showing her what he had been hiding for several months. It was a simple ring - too simple for her in the boy's opinion, but that was how she liked it - made of silver with an oval diamond in the middle, flanked by two smaller ones in square shape, and many smaller ones around it, embellishing the circle.

"Y/N…" He sighed deeply, more sure than ever in his life, even though trying to control his anxiety. "Do you want to marry me?"

The girl threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and crying in his chest. "Yes, yes! Of course I do! Of course I want to marry you."

He laughed happily and deeply, smiling so much that he thought the corners of his lips must reach his ears. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her perfume and murmuring how much he loved her... But mainly thanking her for loving him.

After a few minutes of laughter and sobbing, Y / N walked away with red, wet cheeks and slightly swollen eyes, but looking more beautiful than ever.

"How long…?"

"Much too long." Gently he took her hand and stuck the engagement ring on her left ring finger, where it glowed as if it belonged there. "I should have done this a long time ago."

"It's beautiful." Y/N said in admiration. "I love you."

"Not more than I love you."

They shared another kiss, this one longer than the others, and left their foreheads gently touching each other, with their eyes closed and wanting to record the moment forever in their memory.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"I’m the one who should be thanking you…"

"I knew you were forever. I've known it since that day at the cafe."

"Yes…" Y/N agreed. "Forever."

♦⋅☆⋅♦ Tag List: @breathygasps @unicornblood4ever @jay-jay-love @mintchip17

#corpse husband #Corpse Husband Fandom #Corpse Fandom #corpse fanfiction #fanfiction #imagines #one-shot #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband oneshot #corpse husband one-shot #corpse x reader #corse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x female reader

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zoellajulien · 4 years ago

Text

come upon morning

(Peter Parker x Reader)

angst - words: 2.1k

OPEN ENDING BELOW

"Alright! Enough from you!" Your friend laughed loudly as he smacked your other friend in the back of the head, turning to face you. "It's your turn. Give us all the details!"

You shifted awkwardly, laughing and rubbing your arms for comfort. The conversation happening between your group was on the subject of 'the ones who got away', which you all had experience in. "Fine, fine. Just be quiet and sit down!"

A hush fell over the room as you opened a book and pulled some photos out of the page. Curiosity spread as the photos were passed around for everyone to look at.

"Why do you keep these on that page?" One friend asked, looking over your shoulder at the highlighted text.

"I keep them close to a quote on it. It says 'you'll always be mine, in the back of my mind. I'll look for you in my next life.' I found this quote when I was in a dark place, and it reminded me of him. Because that's how I'll always feel." You explained to them, passing another picture around.

In the photo, the boy had a straw taped badly to his head with a ridiculous smile spread across his face. His nose was wrinkled too, adding to the joyous atmosphere the picture captured. His brown curls were splattered across his head and face in a mess, along with a hastily put-in butterfly clip. You felt warmth blooming inside you while looking at it. Your friends laughed at the picture, pointing out various (but positive) things about him to one another.

"What are you doing? You look ridiculous!"

"I'm a unicorn! You should be a unicorn too!"

"Wait until Tony sees this. No- I am not sticking a straw to my forehead like a crackhead!"

"Psh, you don't know what you're missing, then!"

"That boy was my whole world. We were best friends before we lovers, but we always did everything together. One time, we both failed an exam on accident, and celebrated! We drove around for hours just because." You reminisced.

"Dude, one kid sitting next to me was all 'I got this in the bag! Studied all night long!'" Peter chuckled, pushing his curls from his face with the hand that held yours. He pushed his lips against your knuckles softly.

"Are you serious? Dude, if you can't even pass the exam, then everyone else definitely failed. Their ego was 100% bruised afterward, I'm sure of it." You snickered, blushing as your eyes cast over his form. His skin glowed from the kiss of sunset colors. "Hey! Careful! You almost hit that bird! Ugh, your driving is the worst!"

Peter's laugh brought a smile to your lips as you teased him, knowing full-well you drove much worse than he did. Poking his side with your finger to tease him more, he squirmed away and began to make faces.

"Oi! I'm trying to keep us alive! Stop that!" He snickered.*

"I hope you know that we are absolutely not listening to this song! My turn to control the cord!" You cheered, snatching his phone away.

"What? No! I'm the driver, I control the music!"

"In your dreams, Parker! And don't take your eyes off the freaking road, you health-hazard of a human being!"

"Oh, please! I drive better than you do! And either way, you know you love me!"

"That, yes, that is very true. I can not deny that." You giggled with a happy sigh.

"What else did you guys do?"

"So much! We went on great adventures and vacations together but also enjoyed simple moments. One day, I was frustrated with everything so I started crying on the kitchen floor when the empty pot slipped from my hand." You laughed at yourself, shaking your head. "He came in with a sympathetic heart and dumped a bunch of pots on the floor. At first, I got even angrier. Because, hello, that was a huge mess! But then he started constructing them together on a mat and grabbed two dowels for the both of us."

Peter cursed when he saw your form, panicking slightly as he tried to come up with a solution to fix the sad mood you owned. The poor brunette had come in, more than ready to defend you from an attacker, after being alerted to the crashing sound of a pan hitting the tiled flooring. Trying to think quickly on his feet, he leaned past you to pick up said fallen pot along with a large group of others.

"What are you doing? I swear to god I will smash your face into the cabinet if you think I'm going to clean this up."

Peter wordlessly grabbed your hand and placed the dowel in your hand, kissing each finger as he twisted them into a fist. He reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, smiling sweetly at your confused face.

"What do I need this for?" You questioned, still slightly irritated.

"What? What was he doing, exactly?"

"We actually started playing them together, on the floor. He cheered me up in less than an hour. I went from crying in frustration to crying from laughter." A blush crept its way up your body as a love-sick smile made its appearance.

Crawling on the floor, Peter gently pulled you by your empty hand next to him. A whine of protest escaped your lungs, but you eventually gave in and looked at the pots in front of you. He reached around you, his arms controlling yours. He began beating the wooden sticks against the metal and copper pots.

"I love you! I love you! My darling!" He sang out dramatically, badly playing out an improvised tune, hiding his smile when he noticed you were forcing one to hide. "My darling! She's oh-so-beautiful!"

Laughter bubbled within your chest and escaped into the air around the two of you. A smirk made its made to your boyfriend's lips at the achievement of making you happy. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before continuing his actions.

Eventually, he moved and sat beside you, using his wooden stick to bang on the pans. He laughed after you made a pun referring to the pots, shaking his head in amusement.

"Come one, sing a duet with me."

"Nooo."

Peter began singing loudly but slow enough for you to try and match his lyrics. You were pretty sure the two of you were bothering the neighbors at this point.

A bubble of snickers filled the room after someone mentioned just how in love you seemed to be even after he left.

"You see, this big teddy bear of a human being loved to travel, so one day he showed up outside my job and picked me up. We ended up driving for a long time until we had a picnic underneath the stars. I taught him a bunch of the constellations."

"Peter! C'mon, tell me where we're going! You're boring me!" You joke, shoulders shaking in laughter when you do.

"No! You can't know yet! It's called a surprise, babe!" He protests, taking one hand off the wheel and easing his foot off the accelerator. Using the empty hand he has, he pokes your side once safely stopped at a red light.

"Ugh. You're a pain. I hope you know that." You paused for a few minutes before saying: "Are we there yet?"

"We are literally still driving! Relax!"

The drive continued for another hour or so before you pulled up onto a hill that sat beside a glistening lake. By that time, it was well past midnight. You would have fallen asleep if Peter's energetic and proding, literally, personality. He sang loudly to you and was constantly poking you in the ribs, although gently.

"We've arrived! I hope you're hungry!"

After the picnic, you rested by his side, enjoying the comforting kisses he left across your face. "I love you, but I'd appreciate it if you would pay attention to my lesson!" You whined*

"Alright, Teach. What do you have for me to learn? Not math, I hope." He replied in turn with a broad smirk.

With a sharp eye-roll, you sat up, taking his finger, and pointing it at the sky. "Big dipper." You drug it over to a separate spot. "Little dipper."

"I like this lesson. Teach me more."

"He sounded amazing. What happened to you two?"

"The part of him yearning for adventure became too difficult to ignore, and he knew he needed to go. Of course, he offered for me to come with him, but my parents refused. They told me how my focus was to be on where I was going in the future, so their force kept us apart." You set down the Polaroid picture to pick up another one, this one of a car. The brunette sat on top of it, clearly singing and dancing. "The night he left was a hard one for us all. His aunt and mentor came over so we could all wish him goodbye. I was angry at my parents, but they were right. My future was very uncertain with him, especially since he didn't know where he would be going."

A stray tear made it's down your cheek, dropping onto the hoodie of his you wore. Your friend wrapped an arm over your shoulder.

"Eventually, after he packed his car for the journey and his weeping aunt gave him one last hug, I was called over. I opened the door to be closer to him and sat, looking at him. His cheeks were damp with tears, as were mine, but we smiled. He put his hand into mine and kissed me, so softly, as if I were glass."

"You look beautiful today, you know. Is that dress new?" Peter's fingers danced up your arm to cup your cheek.

"I bought it just for you, for today. I wanted you to see me looking my best, so you can remember me this way when you go."

"I still don't know if I want to go." He admitted, ducking his head before looking back into your eyes.

"You have to. You need to go because your heart is calling." You whispered, reluctant to admit the truth as much as he was. "And you don't have to be scared, because I will always be with you along this journey." You placed your hand on his heart.

"He pleaded for me to go that night, to go with him. I told him I couldn't, that it wasn't an option."

You set down the picture while standing, grabbing one from underneath a flipped-over picture frame. One of your friends picked up the frame and felt anguish at seeing the picture inside the glass.

The same boy the conversation was about sat somewhere, clearly in a place with bright lights. He wore a white, short-sleeve top that ended with the picture. His eyes were blood-shot, curls messy as can be, but a smile sat across his lips, despite being clearly in pain.

"This noise is going to be the death of me, I swear."

"Kid, you've got a lot more fighting to kill you right now than the lights. At least try to act concerned for yourself." Tony's voice strained, dry from tears. "They are probably the smallest problem you have as of now."

"Don't say stuff like that. Please." Your voice croaked, all the tears you had now gone from crying them away. "It can't be like that. No."

"That picture was taken a few months before he left. This one is a copy of the photo he took with him." You explained, showing it around. "I loved him so much, you know, and he loved me too. I could tell since he had some much trouble leaving us. But I knew he had to go."

In the last photo sat you both, side-by-side, asleep. One of his arms draped over your side while he spooned you from behind with his face buried into the skin of your neck. You had hair flopped over one eye and one hand tucked into his dangling by your front. The two of you had corresponding colors on your nails, a bright red. It had been his idea after a tired sleep-over reached well past two in the morning. It was a fond memory of yours.

Your friend pulled you tight to his chest, noticing the balance you were struggling to keep between sobbing or staying straight-faced. Eventually, the tears came out, but a smile stayed on your lips as you remembered Peter.

You remembered his laughter that was always accompanied by his contagious smile or smirk. Also on the list, you remembered his ability to sweet-talk you into sneaking out to see him on nights he wasn't 100% busy. However, you also remembered how he left you, leaving a longing feeling that turned into unheard wishes.

You just wish his departure had actually happened like that.

taglist: @rorybutnotgilmore @petersasteria @elios-timotea

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

Text

Impulse: Part 2 (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Pena as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: ANGST!!! Explicit drug and alcohol abuse from the beginning, depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, major character death, blood, smoking, gun violence, show level violence

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: The response to the first part of this has been fucking insane! I was not expecting you guys to like it so much, so thanks a lot! Like I said before THIS IS THE END OF THE STORY BUT NOT THE END OF THE SERIES.

Part 1

Sleep never found you. You drank the bottle of wine Connie gave you without a glass, letting the alcohol wash away your anxieties as you stared out the window to the city surrounding you. You had dreamed of coming here since the idea was first put forward to you. You had the chance to capture Escobar! Ideas of chasing him through the city being the one to catch him, finally stop the war and be a hero had flooded your imagination. You knew that was never going to happen now, not only because the true scale of the horror here was much larger than just one man, but because you were going home.

It was the only logical solution. The only one that didn’t result in your death, at least. If you stayed it was almost certain to be a death sentence, by your hand or at the hand of someone else. If you stayed you would die. If you went home, maybe someone could help. As much as it pained you, it was the only plan that made sense.

Still a little drunk, you called the ambassador’s office leaving a message on the answerphone for the secretary to find when she got into work. There was no going back now.

You showered, changed your clothes from the day before into new clean ones. You spent a little extra time on your hair, singing along to the radio while you attempted to fix the birds nest on top of your head. You looked tired, not just your skin- it was like your soul had been tainted now. You forced a smile, practising in the mirror. You were not convincing even yourself; your eyes were red and sunken from lack of sleep; your nose was red from the constant scratching and your eyes had no light. You looked as rough as you felt, cravings were starting again you felt like your whole body was on fire, itching from the inside out. As the effects of alcohol wore off, the need for a replacement was heightened.

Still wanting to avoid Javier, you knocked on Steve’s apartment and he took you to work. When you arrived, Javier was already at his desk. As if nothing was wrong, he slipped a packet of cigarettes over to you as had become your tradition. You never brought cigarettes here, it just became a habit that the two of you shared. You took one, lit it with your Zippo and took your first nicotine hit of the morning. Javi claimed he let you share because he was trying to cut down, you doubted that. It was a peace offering today.

From then on you could almost forget anything had happened the day before. The three of you got on with your usual day's tasks. A cigarette never left your lips all morning. It wasn’t what you wanted but the nicotine was doing well at curbing your cravings. Javier and Steve were in and out all morning while you did the paperwork that they didn’t have time for. The mundanity of it was exactly what you had needed.

Lost in concentration as you struggled to read Carrillo’s terrible handwriting for his part of your case report, you didn’t hear the phone ring. Being closest, Steve answered the call, said something you didn’t hear and held the handset out in your direction. You looked up. You never got calls.

“It’s for you,” Steve passed the phone to you, a suspicious look on his face.

You took it and placed the receiver between your head and shoulder while you looked for a paper you’d been looking for. You nearly dropped it when the receptionist on the other side told you she had got you a meeting in the hour. You hadn’t expected it so soon! You hadn’t practised what to say! You thanked her and hung up, quickly standing up to collect your things.

“Hey, hold up Rookie where are you going?” Steve called after you. Javier looked up from his work, equally as confused.

“Out,” you called back, already through the doors. You didn’t see the look of concern the two men shared when you left the room.

It felt strange driving somewhere on your own. You always had Javier, Steve, or Connie. You could count the number of times on one hand that you’d driven yourself somewhere. But you needed to do this alone. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do one thing right completely alone.

You were scared, terrified of what was going to happen. Your palms were so sweaty you could hardly grip the wheel. Each intersection you were tempted to turn around and go back, pretend nothing had happened. The idea of giving in one last time filled your mind, you became so distracted you didn’t notice the traffic in front of you and nearly rear-ended a taxi in front of you. The annoyed driver flipped you off out the window. The near miss brought you back to reality, you took a deep breath and shook your head of all the thoughts. You could survive without it.

On the walk through the embassy, you passed the place Javi had pushed you against the wall, where you’d flipped out. A black scuff mark was the only evidence anything had happened, but your memory supplied you with the rest of the details. Hot guilt spread over the back of your neck and you sped up, averting your eyes when you passed the bathroom a little further on. You had let this go too far, but you were fixing it. You were going to be better.

The assistant outside the door beamed at you, offering small talk while you waited for the ambassador to finish his meeting. She mostly asked after Javier. After a few minutes, the ambassador emerged, two well-dressed men walked out with him, and he smiled warmly.

“Y/N, nice to see you again so soon,” You took a deep breath and quickly wiped your sweaty palms on your pants, “Come on in,” He showed you inside and offered you a seat on the couch to the side of the room. You sat down, gladly accepting the drink his assistant offered. The ambassador dismissed her and sat down opposite you, sipping his glass of whiskey. “What can I do for you?”

---

You stepped out of the room and felt lighter and heavier simultaneously. You confessed, told him everything from the beginning when you first met Maria to yesterday’s events. You’d confessed, you were on your way to help but that had come at a cost. You were leaving on Monday; your position was in question and the ambassador had been far from sympathetic. You managed to hold it together inside but as soon as the golden sun hit your face you broke down into tears.

He had been kind in not arresting you, but his words were far from it. Called you a failure, weak, pathetic. A disappointment to the agency and the country. The disgusted look on his face was one you wouldn’t forget, seemingly imprinted on the back of your eyelids flashing with every blink you took. Your nose itched as if automatically knowing what you would do to soothe your pain, body craving the solution to its problem, but you ignored it.

Instead, you got back in the truck and drove. Music cranked way up so you couldn’t hear yourself think, driving until you felt better. You didn’t need the drug; you were stronger than that! You thought you were until you came to Maria’s house. Like a homing pigeon, you had subconsciously driven down her street, despite it being in nearly the opposite direction to your destination. You slowed down and sat outside the building just watching it. Tempting yourself when you know you shouldn’t. You knew she was home; you knew she would have some for a party or just for her personal use! She could help you. She was a great friend. She wasn’t going to judge you.

Before you knew it, you turned the car off and had a hand on the door handle. Your hands were trembling as your body was fighting against itself. You knew how easy it could be, how good it would feel to get just a little taste. Maria would probably have good food too, maybe you could go inside to have lunch. You hadn’t eaten since dawn and your stomach growled. If she happened to have coke it wouldn’t be your fault, you would be being a good guest!

You were about to give in when you spotted Javi’s yellow sunglasses reflecting on the dash and his words from the day before rang in your head. You’re better than this. Your hand let go of the door and you sighed heavily. Even in your head, the asshole was right. If you gave in now, what was the point of everything you had just done in the embassy? If you gave in now you were exactly what the ambassador thought you were; weak and pathetic. If you left now, you were still you. The real you. The one who had fought tooth and nail to get down here. The one who helped people, who saved people. You had proved yourself against people’s preconceptions every day here, you couldn’t give up now. You took your hands back to the wheel, turned the ignition and drove away, tears rolling down your cheeks.

The office was empty when you returned to the compound. Confused for a moment, you looked for a note that was usually left if the boys were called away quickly. There was nothing. You sat down at your desk and wondered. Steve’s jacket was still on the back of his chair, Javier’s tie discarded haphazardly on his desk. They couldn’t have gone far. Then you remembered. You had a strategy meeting with Carrillo which according to the clock on the wall started thirty minutes ago. You cursed aloud and ran to Carrillo’s office.

“Rookie, nice of you to join us,” Carrillo said sarcastically as you slipped through the door into the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” You said, taking a seat on a desk across from the men.

“Maybe Peña should make a note of it for your report card,” Carrillo added with a smirk, you frowned.

“I said I’m sorry,” You grumbled, not in the mood for his bitching. You had just had one of the hardest conversations of your life, you didn’t need Carrillo making your mood any worse. You crossed your arms and sulked in the corner. Carrillo always had a way of making your mood sour instantly, you detested him.

Luckily, he gave up quickly and returned to his previous speech. You were barely listening, constantly catching yourself drifting off in thought, until you heard your name.

“Peña and L/n are on stakeout tonight,” Carrillo said. The mention of your name with Peña’s made you snap back to reality quickly.

“Can’t Steve do it?” You asked, interrupting him. The idea of spending any time with Javi felt like a nightmare. You could barely even look at him out of shame and embarrassment let alone spend ten hours with him in a car.

“You’re late and now you want to start questioning my authority?” Carrillo bit back.

“I’m not questioning your authority, sir,” You snarled, “I am saying I- actually no I don’t need to explain myself to any of you. I refuse,”

“Do as you’re fucking told, Rookie,” Javier finally snapped. He had been silent throughout, letting Steve and Carrillo discuss the plan while he smouldered in his seat, watching you instead. You had that faraway look you had in your eye yesterday, red eyes and constantly fiddling with your sleeves, he assumed the worst. He was sick of it.

His sudden outburst made everyone in the room stop. You were shocked, he’d never used that tone on you before. Everyone looked at him, then to you. Your eyes were big and glassy full of tears, mouth dropped a little, staring wildly at Javier. After a moment, you swallowed down whatever back talk had been sat on your tongue and settled down again, looking away from the man and down to the files on the table.

As soon as the meeting was finished you walked out as fast as possible. You were trembling with a mixture of anger and shame; you couldn’t work out if you were going to cry or scream. Both would work. You wanted to hide away and hope that Javier would just leave for the stakeout without you.

“Are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on with you and Javi?” Steve asked from behind you, jogging to catch up with you as you marched down the hallway. You sighed in annoyance, you just wanted to be alone.

“Nothing’s going on,” You grumbled.

“So that in there was nothing?” He pressed. You shrugged and shook your head. Steve scoffed, “You leave all afternoon on your own, you won’t tell anyone where you are going. You come back late, and then try to get out of a shift? Fucks wrong with you?”

“Fuck off, Steve it’s none of your business,” You muttered, sitting down at your desk doing your best to ignore him and start some paperwork. You didn’t look at what you were doing, more just using it to cue him to leave. He didn’t take it.

“You’re part of my team, it is my business,”

“It’s nothing to do with you. It's between me and Peña and it’s none of his business either!” You snapped. You dropped the pile of paper in your hand making it thud and you looked over at him with a hard glare, “Both of you need to back off. I’m not a kid, I can deal wit\`h it by myself. I don’t ask you about the arguments you’ve been having with Connie, do I?” Steve scoffed and shook in disbelief. It was a low blow, but you were angry and hurt. He didn’t deserve it, but you just needed him to leave, “Leave me alone. I’ve got shit to do,”

Steve left in a huff. He brushed past Peña, giving his partner the same glare he’d given you, as he stormed out the office. Javier took one look at you sitting at the desk, and walked the other way, he didn’t want to talk to you either.

Alone in the office, you worked almost to spite the two older agents. You could still be productive despite the incessant devil on your shoulder telling you about the as yet unweighted bags in the evidence locker. You could go get some and you'd be much happier, and nobody would know at all. You ignored it, gritting your teeth, and forcing yourself to focus. You couldn’t steal from the evidence! The words on the page didn’t even look real anymore, your brain so overwhelmed you could hardly make sense of the parts in English let alone Spanish.

Memories of better times crept into your mind, remembering the last time you were here so late. You, Javi, and Steve were the last ones in the building still pacing through the coded list of names you had found through your CI. You were all delirious and someone found a radio at some point, you managed to catch a station playing some American pop music. Prince and Bon Jovi, even some Abba. You danced around the room singing and laughing, dragging an initially reluctant Steve with you. Javier sat and watched, laughing at the two of you making fools of yourself. You were happy then, confident and content.

The warmth of the memory was cut by the ice of the room surrounding you now. There was no laughter, no joy. The two people who meant the most to you hated you now. Where you once felt bravely on the edge of greatness here, you now barely gripped the ledge before you fell to despair. You felt your grip slipping every day that passed.

You sighed, rubbed your hands over your face shaking off the memories and returning to your work. You wondered about food but decided against it, here you were safe from yourself. You couldn’t do anything here without somebody catching you. As well as you hidden your habit you knew you couldn’t try it here, that would be truly insane. You had promised yourself you would stop so you sat and worked alone until Javier reappeared and called you to heel.

No words were spoken on the way out of the compound. You knew the plan already and neither you nor Javier felt like small talk. Javi drove and parked outside a row of houses near the top of Medellin. It was quiet, there was a good view out over the city with all the lights trickling down the hillside to the city centre. You focused on that, turning away from Javier in your seat, to focus on the view.

You dragged your jacket tighter around your chest as the winter air crept into the car. You should have gone home to get a better coat. As mild as it was in the day, up in the hills at night the air was sharp and bit through the thin leather material easily.

The silence in the car was awkward. You could tell Javier wanted to say something, it sat on the tip of his tongue as he flicked from looking at the target and you. Usually, you filled these long tedious times with quiet chatter about something or other that you had read or heard around the office, often teasing Javier over the latest secretary he’d bagged. He often complained about it, protesting that he would rather sit in silence than hear you babbling on, but now there was nothing he would like more.

He wanted to know what was going on in your head. Seeing you so reckless and out of control had scared him. It was his fault he’d not stopped you sooner, not done his job as your mentor properly. He’d only proved himself right by letting you fall like this, that he was never fit for the role in the first place. He had proof of his failings now shivering silently in the seat next to him. Out of everything that he had done, you were his worst failure yet.

Memories of the first stakeout you had been on with Javier came to mind, you remembered how surprisingly fun it was. It was the first time you got to know the man, about a month into your time in Colombia you were still a little awkward around him. Still trying to work out what kind of mentor he was, you had never spent more than half an hour alone with him before. But somehow, you talked all night, got takeout and the time seemed to fly by. Nothing exciting happened but from that moment you two became a lot more comfortable with each other and trust began to form.

You missed being able to have fun with him. You were going to miss Javier, despite the ups and downs of your relationship you admired him and held him with the utmost regard. He was an asshole at times, you butted heads a lot, but he never did anything rash and always had your best interest at heart. You were going to miss him a lot. You wanted to tell him about your decision, but you thought he wouldn’t care, not now. It would be easier for both of you if he never knew.

You looked back at the glowing clock on the dash, barely an hour had passed. It was going to be a long night.

“Where did you go earlier?” Javier finally broke the silence. He wasn’t angry, merely asking. You frowned.

“Why do you care?” You grumbled.

“Answer the question,” He sighed, exasperated by your attitude.

“If you must know, I went to the ambassador’s office,” You said, Javi frowned, it was not the answer he was expecting, “What? Did you think I was going to get high or something?” Javi shrugged. You scoffed. “I do listen to you, you know that?”

“Hard to believe sometimes,” Javi jabbed back. You didn’t have a particularly good track record of doing what you were told, but things always worked out in the end. That was half the reason Javi had left you so long in this mess. He trusted you could get yourself out like always. You scoffed, crossed your arms, and turned away again. The truck fell silent again, Javi took another drag of his cigarette and sighed before speaking again, “What did you talk to the ambassador about?”

You realised he was going to drag it out of you whether you wanted to tell him or not. He couldn’t tell if you were lying, he wanted to believe you- that you had made the right choice by yourself, but he needed to hear it from your mouth. He wanted proof that he hadn’t entirely fucked you up. You took a deep breath before you spoke, facing forward looking out the window so you couldn’t see his reaction.

“I asked to be transferred back to the States, I can’t be here anymore,” Javier looked over at you, his face was almost entirely unreadable. A cigarette smouldered between his fingers, unmoving while he listened to you, “I told him everything, I’m being transferred out on Monday. If I don’t get dropped from the DEA entirely, it’ll be a fucking miracle,” You took a deep breath as tears pricked your eyes, “I let you down. I let you and Steve down, and I am completely in over my head now. I can’t in good conscience stay when I am putting you two in more danger and doing harm to myself. Ever since I got here you have been nothing but helpful. You’re a great mentor and a great friend and-,” You choked on a sob, tears streamed down your face as you confessed to him, “You were right, I wasn’t ready for this, I am fucked,”

“Shit,” Javi cursed under his breath.

“That’s all you're going to say?” You laughed humourlessly. You wiped your eyes and nose with the cuffs of your jacket. That was not the reaction you were expecting from him, “You can tell me you told me so, go ahead I know you want to,”

“We’ve got movement,” He said gesturing to the car that had just pulled up in front of the property you had been watching. Three men got out of the car and walked into the house. Your heart leapt at the thought of this finally being Escobar, that you had caught him when he was least expecting it. There had been rumours he was using this house for a little while, that's what you and Javier were there to investigate.

“Shit,” You echoed Javier’s previous statement, “What do we do?”

“We stay here and watch,” Javier replied sensibly. You knew that was what you should do but the emotion of the day was catching up to you. This could be your last chance and you were going to take it.

“No way, that could be him!” You exclaimed, “I’m not just going to sit here and watch while fucking Escobar passes a hundred feet in front of us!” You sat up in your seat, bent over to tie your shoes ready to go.

“Y/n, no. We don’t know it’s him,” Javier tried to reason but your hand was already on the door, gun ready in the other. You’d made up your mind, too full of frustration and emotion to stop for a minute to think.

“Javi come on! I know you’re sick of this bullshit too! If I’m leaving Monday, I don’t want this to be wasted. Call Carrillo, get some backup, we’ll go now,”

“I said no,” He protested.

“Fine I’ll go by myself, you stay in the truck and keep deniability,” You opened the door and slipped out into the cold Medellin air before Javi could answer. You pulled the gun from your back, loaded it, and crept to the house not once looking back at Javier in the car.

You ran across the road and slipped through the alleyway which separated the house from the rest of the row. Around the back of the building, pressed up the wall, you peered through a window. A small crack in the curtains didn’t let you see much but you could hear at least two voices. You took a deep breath to calm yourself, held your gun tight and moved again, walking along the wall to the first door you could find. It was open.

You crept inside, keeping as quiet as possible. It was dark inside the small porch; you couldn’t see your footing. Your foot met with a glass bottle kicking it across the floor till it clattered against the wall. You winced and stood still, listening out for any sign the occupants had heard you. Sound from a TV still played, you were in the clear for now. You pushed on through the house, carefully pushing open another door which opened into a kitchen.

The warm light hurt your eyes a little, you squinted to adjust. The kitchen was well used, a pile of pans sat dirty in the sink and a pot of half-eaten food sat on the stove. You stopped to think for a second what your plan was. Until that moment you had been so caught up in the fact Escobar could be here, you’d run in without a plan. You were starting to think that wasn’t the best idea. You considered turning back, waiting outside for Javi to join.

You looked up from your spot to see a man had entered the room. Tall, dark curly hair, you instantly recognised him. Diego, Maria’s boyfriend. Your stomach dropped; this was the worst possible thing to happen. He recognised you too, his dropped jaw quickly turned into a smirk as he pulled out his gun and pointed it at you.

“Isabella?” He asked using the name he knew you by. Isabella Rodriguez, you had used the name for months to get into Maria’s group and get intel. “I knew there was something off about you!” He smirked.

“Lower your weapon, now!” You ordered. Your heart hammered in your chest, feeling the absence of a tact vest now. You were completely vulnerable, stood up against Diego’s gun in nothing but a leather jacket. He didn’t move an inch, so you pressed again. “Put it down and I don’t put a bullet in your skull,” You growled, becoming impatient. You were completely stuck; you had no plan at all other than to stall until Javi arrived.

Suddenly a cold press of metal stamped against your back. Your breath hitched at the contact, but you remained as calm, keeping your focus on Diego. Before you could even register it, your legs were swiped out from under you. You fell forward with a thud, your gun sliding across the tile away from you.

You fell hard, hitting your nose on the ground instantly cracking it. It throbbed and blood poured out. You pressed up but were pulled back onto your knees by the hair by the unknown man behind you. You groaned and spat out the blood that had trickled into your mouth. That was when another familiar face appeared in the doorway. The man who haunted your dreams, who’d driven you to this mess in the first place, Pablo Escobar.

He was older than the photo that donned your office wall, fatter, and more tired looking; but his image had been drilled into your brain so much it was unmistakably him. It was almost underwhelming to finally meet him; he was far too human. Far too real. There had been an air of omnipotence that had built up whilst you chased him, always just out of reach. He always knew the next move; he planned every move. But now to be here in front of you, in flesh and blood, you realised he was just that. Flesh and blood.

He sighed when he bent over to pick up your discarded gun. He inspected it in his hand, grimaced then flicked the safety off and pointed it at you. Your heart rattled so fast it made your chest ache. Bottom lip trembling, eyes filling with tears, your eyes locked with his. This was most undoubtedly the end.

The cold metal of the gun’s barrel pressed against your forehead and you screwed your eyes shut, praying for Javi and Carrillo to come through the door and save you. You wished you could apologise for being so brash, and forever causing such a mess. You slowly opened your eyes again to meet with your reaper, tears rolled down your cheeks. His cold dead eyes saw into your very soul. You didn’t need to say anything, he could read your mind.

“You know how we deal with rats, right?”

Javier had called for back up, Carrillo and his a team of men came quickly with Steve in tow. Javier hadn’t explained much of the situation, there wasn’t much too explain yet but Steve was furious.

“Why the fuck didn’t you go with her?” Steve burst from the truck before it stopped moving, barrelling towards Javi.

“She ran off! I had to call you,” Javi exclaimed, backing up away from his partner.

“That’s a fucking first,” He snarled.

The men were saved an argument as the sound of a gunshot disturbed the air, reminding them of the task at hand. The black car parked in front of the house screeched as it sped away, out of the city. The men shot at it but missed. That wasn’t their priority. Headed by Javier, the men ran on into the house through the open front door. They had to find you.

“You go upstairs, I’ll take down,” Javi barked at his partner, who obediently followed the order.

It was clear from the contents of the house, whoever had been here hadn’t been here long. There was barely enough furniture to make it comfortable, what personal items had been left were few and far between. The entire place stank of urine and burnt food. Javi moved through the property quickly, clearing every small room he went.

“Y/n!” Steve called as he searched upstairs. There was nothing upstairs except for a couple of stained mattresses, a disgusting bathroom, and a discarded razor. There was barely a sign that people had been living there let alone any sign of you. Dread was starting to creep up in his stomach as he walked back down the stairs. He hadn’t heard anything from Javier to announce you’d been found. Maybe you were taken in the car they’d failed to stop.

Steve found his partner standing in the kitchen at the back of the house. Javier stood still, his back turned to the entrance. He didn’t move a muscle when Steve entered the room.

“Javi?” Steve prompted when he didn’t move. He came closer and saw what was holding his attention.

You.

Slumped on the floor, knees trapped under your chest, blood poured out of an open wound in your head. Blood covered the tile floor, spilling down channels in the grout. Steve couldn’t look, nearly vomiting as if his body was rejecting the horror that overtook him at the sight. He quickly dragged Javier by the arm, to turn away. Javier lashed out, shoving him off. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, lit up in the dim light of the house. Steve had never seen him cry before.

“Fuck!” He yelled, throwing himself at the dirty couch in front of him. It didn’t move. Unsatisfied, Javi stormed out, shoving past Carrillo and his men who had returned from their search, to get some air. Steve let them through, pointing over at your body.

Grief had settled over him quickly, guilt came second, making Steve’s whole world fuzzy. He was stuck between joining Javi in running for the hills and not wanting to leave your side. He watched on patiently as your body was laid out. One of Carrillo’s men took photos of the scene, Steve almost laughed at the sight. This wasn’t something he was going to need physical reminders of, it would be etched on his memory forever.

Eventually, an ambulance was called, and your body was taken away. Steve followed you out, getting one final look before the doors were closed. People trickled away, Carrillo clapping him on the back in some attempt at comfort, and soon Steve climbed back into his truck completely alone again. Javi’s truck was gone. No doubt burying himself in some poor girl somewhere to burn the anger out.

Steve was angry. Angry at Javi for letting you go alone, angry at himself for not switching with you when you protested. He lashed out, slamming his hands onto the wheel, and letting out a cry of frustration. He wondered if you knew this would happen. There were so many things he didn’t understand about what had happened, and it seemed he was never going to find out now. It was all over.

He drove back to his apartment in complete silence. His anger had cooled, red hot now cold settled in his chest as cold blind rage. Rage at your actions, at Javi’’s, at Escobar and this fucking country. Everything about this place was hell, what had he done to deserve to see someone so young, so promising, die like that. It was not fair.

Steve stumbled into his apartment and was met by Connie making dinner in the kitchen.

“Hey! Everything okay?” She asked innocently. From the kitchen, she couldn’t see her husband collapse on the couch or his slumped over form and how he scraped his hand over his face as if to pull the guilt out of his skin. “Hey next time you see Y/n, could you give her this?” Connie started talking, walking into the room with a sweater in her hand. The mention of your name made Steve’s heart break a little more and tears spilled from his eyes, “She left it here after dinner last week, I keep forgetting-“ Connie entered the room and instantly saw Steve’s anguish. “Baby? What happened?”

“She’s gone,” He croaked out. He didn’t need to stay anymore. He couldn’t. Connie dropped the sweater in shock and stumbled to Steve who instantly wrapped himself around her.

---

Javier, in typical fashion, rang his usual girl and fucked his frustration out. Unusually rough and uncaring, he hoped the excursion would force the overwhelming remorse out. Even when he finished and the girl hobbled out the apartment, clutching his money, the guilt didn’t leave. It only got worse.

He couldn’t remember how long he had stood looking at your body on that floor. The shock was so overwhelming he had just locked onto you as if waiting for you to jump up and say it was a prank. He took a long drag of his cigarette, holding it until it nearly made him choke to enjoy the heady sensation of it. He hadn’t moved from where the girl left him. A bottle of whiskey was within reach and another pack of cigarettes, he could stay there sinking into the couch until it all made sense.

He assumed you had given up. The hope he held at the beginning of the day, seeing you walking into the office smiling and happy had been shattered by the time you returned from your secret visit to the embassy. Of course at the time he was ignorant and had thought the worst of you. Then in the truck you had told the truth. You were trying to fix it the best you could and he never had a chance to say how proud he was of you. It had all been snatched away.

Javi couldn’t get his head around it. Death wasn’t new to him, he’d seen it countless times before, he had seen worse things working with Carrillo, but tonight threw him into a spiral. You had so much promise, so much more to give. It wasn’t fair. He should have intervened sooner, should have taken the time to talk to you the first time you showed up high at his door. Maybe this would never have happened if he had done his job properly. He may as well have shot you himself.

You said you had failed him, but he had failed you in the end. He should never have let you go alone even for a minute. He didn’t even stay to help move your body, he abandoned you for his own comfort. Guilt pressed down on him hard at that fact. He was selfish. He claimed to care about you but had left you dead on a dirty stone floor for someone else to pick up. You didn’t deserve that. He wanted to apologise to you, but that was never going to happen now.

Possibly the worst part was that he knew he had to write up the events that lead to your death. He would have to repeatedly explain it to the DEA, to the ambassador, to anyone that fucking asked him why the hell he let you go in there alone.

He drank more until the glass wasn’t fast enough. He drank straight from the bottle letting it burn his throat. He drank like the answer to the questions surrounding him was stuck to the bottom of the bottle. He wondered if you knew this would happen. Who had shot you? Why? At what point had this become inevitable? Did you know just how much you meant to him?

Eventually, the whiskey swept him up and let him sleep. He would have to wake up for the nightmare to start.

NEXT PART

---

*insert evil laugh* wanna get tagged in the next part? Let me know!!

tag list: @beskar-tano @beskarbabs @buckysbeloved @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @lesbianlena

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years ago

Text

driver’s license | b. boeser

a/n: so i was listening to driver’s license on repeat and this happened out of the blue in the last 2 hours. @brockadoodles, hope you like this surprise!

word count: 2,027

wine pairing recommendation: an old favorite, something you love and trust.

warnings: a couple swear words.

You let out a long breath that lingered in the winter air inhabiting your car and cranked it slowly. The engine turned over a couple of times and you cursed a little under your breath. Your brother was supposed to have driven it while you were away, but he always said he forgot which was just his way of saying he hated your car. But she was Old Faithful for a reason and the engine turned on anyway. You breathed out a sigh of relief that turned into a groan as a familiar sound floated through your car of a voice you knew all too well saying your name softly. You slammed the button on the sound system to switch to the radio as your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t need to hear that today. You weren’t sure you ever needed to hear that CD again.

You didn’t even consider ejecting it from its permanent home in the otherwise unused CD slot. It lived there in your car that felt like a relic from a past life, a life in which the voice on that CD had a starring role in. That life wasn’t yours anymore, but we all keep tokens from the past, even from our lowest of years, because we can’t bear to part with things that once were our most prized possessions.

You really should have paid attention to the radio station you had last played, but you didn’t and you paid the price for that decision.

“Brock Boeser and the Vancouver Canucks were in town tonight and absolutely destroyed the Wild in a 3-0 shutout, with two goals from local Minnesotan Boeser. Remember his draft year? The Wild passed on him and I don’t think he’s ever forgotten it. He really feels like the one that got away for Minnesota, doesn’t he?”

You switched radio stations, but the damage was already done and tears were clouding your vision. His name, just his name, was enough to do it sitting in this godforsaken car, the car he’d named, the car whose flat tires he’d changed at least five times, the car he’d jumped into the second after you’d gotten your license, the car you had driven aimlessly around his neighborhood once he left. But they had to say the one that got away, didn’t they? The radio show hosts had to be in cahoots with The Universe, who really wanted to pull the old scars over your heart apart with careless word choices and reminders of days that were so infinitely happier than the ones you were living now.

Some dull pop song was flowing through your speakers now and you tried to focus on the entirely mediocre lyrics that matched the dull beat to center yourself in the mediocrity of it all. The opposite of your pain wasn’t happiness; it was the absolute middle between the two, the void where emotions didn’t inhabit. The problem was Brock Boeser hung over every inch of this car, every inch of this town, every inch of who you used to be. That emotionless void was entirely inaccessible to you in this moment. All you had was the ache in your chest with the terrible option to bury it under artificial joy. The pain you felt when you thought about him bled through your forced smile. It was too real, too raw still years later, the wound still somehow made fresh again by being back here to be covered.

All you had was your pain, shitty pop music, and a passenger seat that somehow still belonged to Brock and it fucking sucked.

You put the car in drive and turned right out of your driveway even though all your problems came with you anyway. The chill of the Minnesota winter was slowly dissipating as you drove mindlessly. Except no one ever really drove mindlessly. You made a series of lefts and rights without thinking, which meant your mind was really driving a path it knew so well you didn’t need to think about it as you did it. Minds, even when people thought they were being thoughtless, really weren’t all that random at all. You found yourself in Brock’s old neighborhood and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob that shook your aching chest. Of course your mind would bring you here when he was the only thing on it.

The first time you drove through these suburban streets on your own was so long ago now, but you took the same path you were taking now. This was the first place you’d gone after getting your license, freshy and shiny and new, burning a hole in your wallet and the only place you’d wanted to go was to Brock’s. It hadn’t surprised your mother when you’d pulled up at your house fresh off your driver’s test and hadn’t even reached for the keys. She knew with one look where you wanted to go, and she waved you off as she got out. You’d had the biggest smile on your face as you drove these streets for the first time alone, heading straight for the person who had been the most excited for you to get your license. You had barely remembered to put the car in park before running to hug him and kiss him as words of pride spilled from his lips. He climbed into your passenger seat, where he practically lived that whole summer, where he told you he wanted to be with you forever, forever be in your passenger seat watching you achieve your dreams.

Forever for Brock Boeser didn’t last past October of that year when he was in North Dakota and you were still here, driving the same goddamn streets you were driving now, driving through memories of your time together in your mind as you rolled through familiar intersections from your past. Years had gone by, and still a piece of Brock lived in a part of your heart like his voice lived on the mixtape still living in the CD slot of your car. You could go weeks, months even, without knowing he was there, especially when you weren’t in town, but something would always remind you of him. You’d see his face in a crowd, hear his name on the radio, drive past a road with the same name as one in his familiar neighborhood and you’d be reminded of him and the love for him that was embedded in your heart. That piece of him was so deep in your heart it couldn’t be surgically removed. There weren’t enough dates to go on, alcohol bottles to find the bottom of, enough love to try to create with other people, that would expel that piece of him you still carried in your heart. You hadn’t found anything that had even come close to him and the love you had for him. So your love for him stayed exactly where he’d left it in your heart and on a poorly burned CD in your car.

Your friends had to hate you for him now, how you always compared everyone to him. They didn’t understand why you did and honestly, neither did you. You and Brock were young and reckless and stupid, but the love you shared was real and raw and clumsy and fucking beautiful. You knew what a sunset made of blood reds, vibrant oranges, sharp yellows and deep purples looked like; one that was just shades of yellow wouldn’t do. You couldn’t forget what loving him felt like, but as far as you could tell, he had forgotten what loving you was like. Maybe he just never felt about you like you’d felt out him, otherwise, how could he have moved on like he had? He had this whole life, this whole other world, in Vancouver you’d only heard about in poorly remembered stories from people with several degrees of separation between them and him. He sounded like he was doing fucking swell without you and all you could think was that forever apparently left you driving through his streets alone with only memories of him and red lights to keep you company.

You hesitated before doing it because you knew what it would do, but you were already starting to cry again. All you wanted was to hear his voice again, hear the way it used to sound like when he talked about you sitting in this car, driving through these streets. You switched back to the CD and pressed play.

“Hey baby, I hope this works? I don’t really know what I’m doing, but you got your license and I’m so proud of you. I can’t always be bugging you in your passenger seat, being the best DJ ever, so I figured I’d make you a little CD so you can have my amazing DJ talents with you wherever and whenever you go. I love you!”

The tears were flowing now. Hearing the way he told you he loved you, the way the words were somehow heard directly in your heart and made it twist in your chest, made you remember why it hadn’t worked out with anyone else. The way Brock told you he loved you was better than how anyone else had ever tried. You walked down sidewalks holding other people’s hands and remembered the way his hand used to feel in yours when you walked down the same sidewalks in this neighborhood you were in now, past the same front yards you were passing now. The way he loved you clouded every moment you had ever tried to deny that he wasn’t your one great love. He was the person you had envisioned your future with, a future that included buying the blue house at the end of the street you were on now and pulling into that very driveway every night, sliding into bed with him, living with him, loving him forever.

Instead of that ideal forever, you were turning onto his street alone in the waning sunlight with tear-stained cheeks, remembering how much simpler and better everything was with him. The street was practically empty but as you got close to the house you knew as well as your own, your breath hitched in your throat with worry that someone would be there. Of all the empty houses, someone being in the driveway at Brock’s would be your luck. You came over the hill and exhaled upon seeing the driveway empty, before checking your rearview mirror and letting your car slow to a crawl. You could practically see him there, all the times he’d run out that front door and into the passenger seat, off to the lake, to your favorite dinner, to the fourth best but still your favorite park around, to even just driving around these same neighborhood streets when he needed to breathe and forget the weight he carried in that house.

You slowed to almost a stop in front of his house, letting your car roll forward as you tried to will the memories to sit more comfortably on your mind and in your chest to no avail. You didn’t notice someone appear in the driveway until it was too late, until they had already seen you. Blonde hair peaked out the back of a blue hat that sat backwards on his head. An old beat up North Dakota sweatshirt covered his broad chest, broader now that it had been when he had been yours, gray sweatpants, and sneakers he had thrown on to do some mundane task, probably to get the mail for his dad. There he was, standing in the driveway, looking at you and for a second, you thought he was thinking the same things you were, longing for them in the same way you were.

He mouthed your name, disbelief written on his face, and started walking toward your car. You shifted it into park, because after all this time, all the pain, all the broken promises of forever, he was still Brock Boeser and you couldn’t leave him hanging when he called your name.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #brock boeser fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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deepdonutkid · 4 years ago

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Buy me a drink and let me tell you why I need it

Authors note

Thank you very much for the request @caelys I had fun writing it and actually I thought about modern!au John way too much. Like I made a model for his apartment and a playlist and I could possibly draw ten more fan arts of him.

It takes place in a modern setting, but it starts before John goes to the military. He and Tommy still work in the Garrison, besides some other shadier jobs. Arthur is a car mechanic or something like that. Ada still goes to school and Finn too. Polly and Michael are not mentioned here.

Female reader x bartender!John BIG PUNK VIBES HERE!

Actually, this was going to be a multi-chapter fic with intense slow-burn, but whatever there it is. Just say one thing and I’ll write a second part!

tagging @bonniesgoldengirl

Warning: drinking, drug use, marijuana, swearing, infidelity mentioned, a little bittersweet

Word count: 2348

The garrison was not a pub for everyone. It was full of gangsters and other low-life scum. A woman was a curiosity. Working there wasn’t pleasant, but John didn’t complain.

It was the only legal job he got after graduating. He worked at the Garrison twice a week, usually on Friday and Saturday.

The nice thing about this work was the free beer and he could make as many cigarette breaks as he liked.

Nevertheless, John was a little pissed that night, because he could see his friends drinking over there and he had to stand behind the counter. Tommy’s orders!

“Fuck off, Tommy”, he mumbled while cleaning bar. Of course, his brother didn’t hear that, he was busy making some phone calls. John didn’t want to know, who Tommy was calling or why. Probably their next job.

But while he was still on the first one, he didn’t want to think about more work. He already had enough. It was past ten and John hadn’t eaten for hours.

At first, he was to occupied from his work to notice you. You sat down at the bar and cleared your throat. It wasn’t on purpose or to get the bartenders attention. Actually, you just wanted your peace. You hated being trapped in your new apartment, while everything was still so empty. Since you moved, so much changed in your life, but you still felt lonely.

That’s why, you walked straight into the nearest pub, when you couldn’t bear the weight of your own thoughts. But now you realized you hadn’t a penny left. Or at least not enough for a beer. “Get me a glass of water please.”, you said to the bartender, who kept starring at you. First you thought he was a little weird and also a little intimidating, but then you understood what he expected from you. An order, of course.

“A glass of water?”, he asked with a grin on his face: “Really? You know, where you are, girl?”

Now you looked confused. Maybe there was an unspoken rule, to not order a soft drink in this place, but how you should know? After all, you’ve been pretty new to Small Heath. Three days ago you moved into your new place. It was small, but it was yours. Your private space and your sanctuary. “A pub… maybe?”, you joked: “So what about the water?”

“Ah, I get it… It’s the end of month.”, he responded.

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m always broke. Money is not my thing.”

“Not mine either.”

Now he got your attention. You took a closer look at the bartender. He was somehow handsome. A pretty face for a fucked-up place like this. Then you noticed the tattoos on his arms, that peaked out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Dead Kennedys. Nice”, you mumbled and smiled slightly, barely visible.

He put a filled glass in front of you and smirked. “No need to pay.”

Your eyes widened. That bartender really surprised you. He was nicer than he looked like. You took a sip from the glass and nodded. “Thanks… I guess.”

The water was okay, but everything you wished for was a beer or a whiskey. Something to stop your brain from thinking. However, you nipped the glass very patiently, because you didn’t want to leave this place too soon. You didn’t know the neighborhood and chances were high, you got lost on your way around town.

The bartender seemed to notice your tension. “Do you want to drink something else?”

“A beer would be nice.” You croaked

The handsome man behind the bar nodded and pulled out a pint. “A beer, it is.”

You didn’t know it yet, but you were the only thing tonight, that made his work bearable. Everything else was so boring and you were new in town. Every little thing about you was so exciting for him. Staring with the fact that you stumbled into the Garrison without knowing its reputation. Then your little comment about his shirt, yes, he heard that. And your overall appearance was just the cherry on top.

The leather jacket, the ripped jeans and your washed-out Kurt Cobain shirt said a lot about you and John was ready to listen. What else should he do in the next couple of hours until his shift ended?

“I’m John.”, he said and served you a beer.

You noticed the twinkle with his eye and replied with a shy smile. “Just call me Y/n”

The two of you shook hands and exchanged a strange glance. Was he flirting with you? No, of course not, you brushed it off. It was part of his job, to be nice to his customers.

After a few sips of your beer, you calmed down a bit, but not enough. You fumbled in the inside pocket of your jacket for your package. You smoked Dunhill and probably started way to early in life. An end of your smoking addiction was not in sight. The package was already half empty, when you opened it.

“Fuck” you cursed and signed. How could you make it to your next pay check with just a few cigarettes left? Maybe skip dinner a few times.

“Cigarettes are empty too?” he asked “I would give you one of mine, but they are empty too.”

“No, I still have some left, but not enough until July. Maybe not even enough for the rest of this night.”, you explained.

You took two out of the package and put it back. “Want one? I don’t have money, but at least I still have something to smoke.”

“Whatcha smoking?” “Dunhill”, you answered.

A wide grin appeared on his face. “Me too.”

“I know, I shouldn’t… but I just can’t quit.” You shrugged and lit your cigarette.

John brushed it off. “Fuck em. I think, I’m never gonna quit too. This shit just stays with you forever.”

“True”, you signed and took a deep drag from your cigarette.

“So… why am I the only girl in this place? Is there something I should know?”

“Nah, not really. It’s just…”, he began to explain, but then paused to smoke. You liked how he leaned against the counter. Like there was no cooler person in this room. “I don’t know… most women don’t like it here. Too filthy or whatever.”

You nodded and looked around. Everything smelled like ashtray and whiskey. There was dirt lying around. Nobody seemed to bother, so you chose not to either.

“And you are new in Birmingham?”, he asked: “All the locals know to stay away from this place.”

Again, you nodded and hid your smile behind your hand. “I just grabbed my bass and some clothes and left.”

“Bass?” Now, John was hooked. Since he could walk and talk, he had a thing for music. Especially rock and punk and he blabber about his favorite bands all day. Of course, he never learned to play an instrument, because his family was too poor, but he stole every record he could lay hands on. “You play bass?”

“Yeah, I can also play guitar, but I sold mine to get here. I started playing in a band now and I really hope this is going to work out… somehow.”, you explained

“Maybe.”, he said: “I can ask Harry, if you can play here. Live music would be great.”

You beamed and jumped almost over the counter. “Really?”

“But I need to listen to a song first. Otherwise, I can’t do it with good conscience.”

“Yeah, sure thing! When I get the promo tape, I’ll come back here.” Finally, some good news for you. After all you went though you really needed that and right now you just couldn’t stop smiling.

Three beers later, you were already in an in-depth discussion about music and which bands paved the way for punk.

After six more beers, you danced to the song he put on. John watched you with the purest joy. Nobody has ever danced in the Garrison. Good for him, that Tommy left, because “something important” occurred.

On beer twelve you sang for all the man to watch. The Shelby just could take his eyes off you, even when you didn’t hit the right tone.

He even caught you, when you fell over the counter.

But in the end the bar had to close and you still had nowhere to go, so you waited for him to finish his work. It took twice as long, because John kept staring at you in awe.

After everything was done, he asked, if he should walk you home and you agreed. Actually, you didn’t say yes, you hugged him and rubbed your cheek against his. Then you made a purring sound and told him your address.

You even hold hands with him, but that was mainly, because you were to drunk to walk straight. But you had plenty of time to sober up along the way.

Finally arriving at the front door, you had to stop laughing and catch a breath to manage to say something. “Do you…”, you began and paused, because you didn’t know how to phrase it.

Without hesitation he answered: “Yes! Yes… I mean, it would be cool.”

And again, you started laughing. “I was about to ask, if you want to watch the stars on my rooftop, but I didn’t know you were going to be so excited about this.”

He scratched his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, we were talking about the same thing.”

“Oh honey, I’m taken”, you explained

That last three words crumbled his hopes, that have been build up since you walked into the Garrison.

But he was a gentleman and he shouldn’t expect anything from a woman. After all, you don’t owe him anything. Even though he thought you were flirting with him the entire night.

He just bit his lip and shrugged. “No problem here.”

Then he added: “But we might not see the stars though all the smog and light pollution.”

“Let’s give it a try.” you opened the door and smiled.

You took the steps up to your apartment, John followed you closely. When the two of you entered the small flat, everything was still dark. The alarm clock next to your mattress said four in the morning.

John was so curious, when he looked around. “You really didn’t lie, when you said, you just took you bass and nothing more.”

“Yup”, you mumbled and walked to a pile of clothes. “Do you want to smoke one with me?”

When you pulled out the joint, John grinned at you. His cheeks were still red. “Why not?”

Climbing out of your window and onto the roof sounded way easier than it turned out to be.

But the view was great, and that was enough.

You lit the joint and inhaled the white smoke, just to blow it out again.

“No stars in sight, babe”, he noted while looking up

He was right, but you were still glad, that he came up here with you. You feared the moment of being alone again. “Yes, but the view… is amazing.”

You didn’t notice, he was glaring at you when he said: “Yeah, it really is.”

Then you turned to him to pass him the joint.

John took one drag and coughed. “That shit’s strong.”

At first you tried not to laugh, but ended up giggling anyway.

“What?”, he asked with blunt curiosity.

When you calmed down, you had to tell him the joke that just crossed your mind: “I like my weed like my sex… keeps me paralyzed for a while.”

That was the last thing he thought he would hear from you. He would believe his ears, if he hadn’t starred at your lips the entire time. “Uhm, okay.”, he whispered and hit the joint one more time.

The longer you sat there with him, the more comfortable you two got. After talking the whole night about music and artists and stuff, you finally opened up.

You told him why you left your home town and moved to Birmingham.

And he told you in return something you would have expected either. “Just a few more months and I’ll be in the military.”

John didn’t look like a soldier or somebody who took pride in defending his country. You couldn’t understand, how a wonderful guy like him ended up serving the forces. It just didn’t seem to fit in. But then again, you knew him for a few hours now, so who are you to judge?

“I’m scared”, he whispered: “that nobody but my family will write me… and I’m going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

That feeling was all too familiar for you. Your heart ached, when you glared at him. “I write you.”, you promised. “And phone you and what else.”

“You would?” His voice was full of doubt. “We don’t know each other really.”

It was true, but you always kept your promises. You moved closer to him, to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. “I would. I know this feeling too well.”

For one second you thought he was going to kiss you, and you were ready. The drumroll played, like it always did, when the first touch of two pairs of lips, unknown to each other, was close. But the drumroll was all you were going to get tonight. You kept staring at his beautiful mouth and how would it feel, when his lips meet yours. Infidelity has never been your thing and you would stay true to yourself, even when the chance was so tempting.

“Can you hold me?”, you asked, while avoiding his eyes. You felt pathetic for being so needy in front of a stranger, so you added: “Just for a while.”

John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he just pulled you in arms and stroke your back.

The two of you felt all alone in this broken world, but right there you met and became friends. What a weird thing to happen.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #female reader #peaky blinders modern au #joe cole

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tallyovie-writes · 4 years ago

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Pictures of Us | f. w. Part 2

part 1

Summary: all the paintings choose a student to patron, the Lady chooses you and watches as you and Fred Weasley grow in the same direction

Warning:none, might contain little angst, nothing serious

2k words

@sirenswhispers @discoverablefeelings @capture-the-moment-on-camera @sophieswizardswheezes

Sixth year, December

The corridors buzzed with excitement. With only less than two weeks to the Yule Ball boys were running around in desperate need of finding partners while girls were frantic about not being asked. Of course the already paired ones watched the madness spread with a smug smile on their lips.

The Paintings also had the time of their lives, the new puppets on their chessboard gave back a little life to their fading colours. Now they could play matchmaker from an even bigger selection.

The Lady wanted to be proud to say she did not take part in such childish acts, but she had a mission with those two before the second task. It's not like she could do much, but occasionally if she heard a french boy talking about inviting her patron to the dance she faked sadness as she gave the poor boy the news that you were indeed taken.

You weren't indeed taken.

Madness has yet to engulf you, but you weren't calm either. Collita was asked by a bulgarian boy, but you had doubts whether there weren't threats made by her that overpowered the poor boy's common sense.

You would have been fine with the two of you going together, but now that she had a partner, you weren't planning on being the third wheel.

You forced these thoughts out of your mind for now. You had more important things going on.

The Lady's corridor was full of students as usual, so you weren't surprised when you entered the DADA classroom someone almost knocked you off your feet.

"Watch where you are goi.....oh..." you started telling off your attacker, but as you looked up Fred Weasley held eye contact.

Ever since that encounter in the potions storage room things have changed. You haven't really met after that, the two of you gave a wide berth to one another. No funny business, no prank. When you did run into each other, a sudden awareness filled your body. He made no snarky comments, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. You didn't bring up the secret of the castle, and he didn't bring up the date. Like an unspoken deal has been made without either of your knowledge. It was awkward at best. You didn't think anyone noticed, there was only bad blood between you before.

He didn't reply, he didn't apologize for running you over. He took a long look at your face, lingering on details only he could see. Without his usual grin, he left the scene as fast as he came, robes flying around him.

"What was that? Has something happened between you two?" seems like someone noticed after all.

"Nothing besides me agreeing to a date, him agreeing to let me in on a secret, and our mutual ghosting. How is your french boy by the way?" you feigned innocence.

Collita's jaw hit the floor.

"I'm joking. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"You know I wouldn't even be surprised. With all the sexual tension you two radiate, I wouldn't put it past you that I could find you in a broom closet with him."

Now it was your turn to let your jaw hit the floor.

"Well then, good to know nothing is going on..."

Boy, if you'd known...

Sixth year, yule ball

It wasn't that bad of an evening. You could say it could have been quite magical. The house elves outdid themselves, even the usual house rivalry crawled back to its gloomy hole.

The icicles lost their naturally given cold arua just like the stone walls' usual grim facade. White dominated, but was quickly swept by the wide range of colourful dress robes, Dumbledore's glittery lilac fabric showing how it's done properly.

It really wasn't your date's fault either that you didn't really enjoy yourself. The poor boy tried everything, but besides polite conversation you weren't capable of anything else.

You were standing alone by the food table, the ravenclaw boy left a while ago to try his luck somewhere else, probably with bigger chances.

You saw Collita bent over from laughter silent tears running down her face, her date was watching her with parted lips in amazement. Eyes big, positive surprise written on his face. Collita did that to people. She was naturally gifted with a charming personality, she drew you in, spoke to you like you were on a pedestal.

She made you feel seen. A secret talent that you were rather jealous of on several occasions.

Suddenly you felt sick of the swirling mesmerized faces, the colours were too vibrant, the music too loud, too many bodies pressed together.

Before the walls started closing around you, you left your previous position and made your way to the exit that led to the gardens. The only sound that was registrateable to your ears were only your own footsteps.

Fresh air cut your rapid breathing shorter. You slowed down, the Great Hall's chokingly sweet smells started to fade away into the night.

"Wouldn't say rushing to the night with only a light silk material covering you was a smart choice, wasn't it? I took you to be a lot smarter than that, love. You're gonna get sick." a soft voice interrupted you.

Fred Weasley stood next to the bushes.

"Well, being sick would mean I wouldn't have to see your ugly face in class, so..." you replied but your voice lacked its usual fierceness. You were too tired.

He chuckled at your reply.

"I don't wanna go back there.." you started in a low voice, barely understandable, but gathered your poise and frowned as you said the last sentence. "They are too happy in there anyway."

"Is that jealousy in your voice?" he found so goodly which strings of you he should pull.

"And what if it is?" you snapped at him.

A ghost of his usual smug grin appeared on his face.

"Get your big nose out of my business by the way!"

"Well love, you know what they say about big nosed guys..." he lazily shrugged, hands in the pockets of his robe.

"Get lost, Weasley, I'm not in the mood today."

Maybe it was the hint of desperation in your voice, or the pathetic look you might have presented, but he stopped picking your brains.

"Come in, Y/S/N, you might even find the bloke of your dreams tonight." Fred tilted his head to the side.

"I'm not interested in 'finding a guy' to be my only goal." you scoffed at his remark.

"Well then, as the only guy you talk to right now, I feel obligated to spare you from the clutches of the cold and sickness, so pretty please get your ass in here."

"I'll stay until I decide it's enough. But thank you for your concern. Bye Fred Weasley, 'find the girl of your dreams' tonight." you rolled your eyes at him.

Little did you know, he already did.

Despite the cold, the Lady felt your frozen heart start melting, even if you haven't realized yet.

Sixth year, few days after the Yule Ball

"I don't understand why you thought it was a good idea to freeze your pretty little ass out there in a low cut silk dress in winter."

You groaned out in frustration.

Collita didn't spare you despite the fact that you were bloody sick, and fuckin hurting everywhere.

"Madam Pomfrey said you won highest fever of the year." she mentioned between stealing a few of your get-well sweets. "At least you finally won something." she winked at you.

"Get out, and let me suffer alone you bimbo!" you hissed at her, but the sharp pains shooting down your neck really destroyed to effect you were trying to achieve.

"Alrighty, my little pathetic friend, I suppose I can leave you to your demise. Be a good and obedient patient." she sent you a kiss and strolled out the Hospital Wing.

In the Hospital Wing, after curfew

After Collita left you to suffer on your own Madam Pomfrey gave you a light sleeping tonic. You welcomed the sweet oblivion in the place of pain.

A light noise disturbed the calming darkness. Opening your eyes was a too heavy task, so you relied on your hearing. A soft fumbling could be heard, but the person near your bed executed the deed quite clumsily as the most colourful swearing left their mouth.

Fighting against the tonic's luring effect, you tried opening your eyes. When you did, you almost jerked back in surprise.

Fred Weasley stood there with an innocent smile on his face, like a child caught in a naughty act, his hands were midair frozen on the spot hovering above your stack of sweets.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the night standing near my bed?" you demanded and pulled your blanket further to your neck. "Are you setting up a prank?"

"Have a little faith in me, Y/N...if it were a prank you would only know it before it happened and that's already too late. Can't a bloke visit his sick classmate? The classmate he warned against the cold?" you scoffed at his pointed stare.

"In the middle of the night?"

He started scratching the back of his neck.

"Good point. A point I should probably elaborate on." he didn't seem like someone who wanted to elaborate.

"Don't let me stop you from doing that..." you rolled your eyes at him.

He seemed a little awkward and you could barely hide your amusement. It is not every day a Weasley gets a little intimidated and loses his usual cockiness.

"You see..." he started but his gaze was still fixated on his hands. "...I felt a tad responsible for you catching a cold.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If it weren't for me dancing on your nerves in the garden making you irritated enough to stay outside longer than intended, you wouldn't be here right now." he sounded a little guilty and you couldn't help the warmth that started spreading in your stomach.

You started to chuckle.

"Weasley. It's alright." you felt a sudden bravery envelop you as you said the next words nonchalantly. "You owe me another secret and we are even."

You waited for his reaction.

He didn't disappoint. He lifted his head, brown eyes locking into your own. Now you weren't sure if it was a wise idea to make him remember your deal back in the potion storage room.

"And here I thought I could bribe you with chocolate that I nicked from the kitchen...you are not a woman easily pleased." he didn't seem that sad about this fact.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"Right."

Silence fell upon the two of you. Eyes still interlocked, you weren't sure if minutes or hours passed by. The Hospital Wing's darkness faded, and the freckles splattered across his face became more contrasted than before. He tilted his head to the side, his gaze burned your skin.

Suddenly becoming aware of the weirdness of the situation you cleared your throat and looked away.

"Since the tonic made me hungry like a wolf, I'll accept that nicked chocolate." you said, trying to break the silence.

Fred smiled and threw you the bar he fumbled around with before. Your catch was nothing sort of graceful and you felt embarrassment tint your cheeks.

Looking down at the bar in your hand you felt your eyes grow big.

"How did you know this is my favourite?" you asked astonishment, creeping into your voice.

"Lucky guess." he shrugged. You didn't need to know that every time the Grand Hall's tables were filled with this, he couldn't look away from the joy radiating on your face. Just like now.

"Your taste is impeccable, I gotta say."

Oh yes, his taste was indeed impeccable, but not just in chocolate.

#harry potter #angst #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley #slytherin #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n

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vivalavi-daa · 4 years ago

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Fav 2020 K-Dramas

1. Hospital Playlist

If there's anything I felt happy about in 2020, it's the fact that I've found my next ultimate fav kdramas. More than another, this kdrama feels like a home I could return to every time. Yes, hospital playlist is a slice of life drama that portrays the lives of people in hospital, but there's something about it that is so captivating to watch. I love how it realistically portrays the adults' daily lives & has no major villain of the story that heats things up whatsoever. Instead, I find it easy to emphatize with every character here, even with a patient who appears less than 5 minutes because this kdrama taught us that every life is worth it. And the friendship of the professors... it really has the power to bring joy & warmth to me.

(I also made a post about hospital playlist's characters study on my side blog. Here, if you’re interested).

2. Flower of Evil

Stories that revolve around someone who isn't capable of having emotions aren't nothing new in kdrama land. But this one, especially, is a gem. This one kept me on the edge of my seat because of how nerve wracking some of the scenes are. The suspenseful dramas, the mysteries, the romance...they're all so engaging to watch. I wasn't sure what to expect from the lead character and therefore it's exciting to see what was going to happen & to see how the characters would develop. And to be noted, I swear the cast who played the villain here gives off really scary vibes. He deserves an award for that alone

3. Mr. Queen

I'm not usually a big fan of Saeguk drama and yet here I am putting one on my fav kdrama list. I watched it merely to ease my boredom but then I surprised myself of how much I enjoyed this kdrama. The opening video was appealing & I love how entertaining Mr. Queen was. It became my weekly dose of serotonin (though it gets angsty at times). I thought the story's gonna be weird since it's about a man trapped in a woman's body in joseon era but heck, it was worth it; hilarious, and delicious (yeah, the cooking part) to watch. I've always known Shin Hye Sun is great at acting, but she truly nailed it in this one I swear.

4. 365: Repeat the Year

This drama is gold! It has a promising premise, and the rest of the story went better than I expected. It just never let me down. I thought it's merely about a time travel story, but turns out it's more than that. I never knew what to expect & every time I thought I figured something out, they always have a way to throw a surprise every week. This drama deserves more recognition imo.

5. When the Weather is Fine

This drama is a pleasant to eyes and heart. Watching it is like having a warm tea during winter days. I wasn't truly engaged with the first eps, but I slowly began to see how beautiful & heartwarming this drama is. Yes, the story pace is a bit slow, but I realized that it's important to make us understand each character deeply, what they suffer from, and how the characters slowly develop. It shows us that the journey toward emotional healing may take time, but it's worth it. Choosing to heal itself is a big step & deserves an appreciation. Another thing I highly praise from this drama is how it implicitly reminds us that if we do suffer emotionally, don't be afraid to ask for help, or to let someone help you.

6. Tale of the Nine Tailed

From the first moment I knew who would cast in this drama and what the drama is about, it's obvious that I'd love it. And I was right. The first eps had already got me hooked. The stories were amazing & funny at times. It has unique lovable characters that complete the drama. In addition, I love the mystical fantasy vibes and how they wrapped up urban legends in modern settings. Not to mention how adorable Kim Bum's character here. He & Lee Dong Wook's bromance is to die for.

7. Do You Like Brahms?

I watched it by chance, and then I fell in love the instant I watched the first eps. The drama is just beautifully done. It has soothing music & ambience and mainly revolves around good people. It's appealing how they portrayed the different perspectives between the lead couple--one who doesn't have talent but works hard to achieve her dream, and one who has talent but wishes he didn't have it. Though the lead couple has different dreams, I can't help but rooting for them... as I've never seen a relationship so awkward yet so real and so adorable before them.

8. Record of Youth

Honestly, it took a bit long for me to be completely enamored of the stories and feel what the characters feel. But as the stories developed, I began to cherish what this drama tried to show us: of how important it is to have good communication & to support each other in our family, of how everyone has different timings in life, and that everyone could have second chance in life. It's also refreshing to see the main couple here & how they interact; we could learn a lot from their communication & relationship. Overall, record of youth is one light & comforting kdrama that's perfect to watch while we need a short escape or need something to cheer us up.

9. Start Up

Honestly, I have a conflicted feelings towards this kdrama. It started off as great but...I have a hard time making sense of some of the stories afterward. And not to mention how we used to ship-debating every week it was a bit draining 😅. But to exclude it from my last year fav kdrama list seems wrong anyhow because I did love this drama. Idk, it gives off this positive energy that I needed to go through a crazy year. It somehow encouraged me to move forward & fight for my dream no matter what. The story's also quiet creative and relatable in nowadays world, while also educating us about the world of business.

10. Find Me in Your Memory

I started watching without any expectations and turns out it's really good. It's not hard to love this drama since it has likeable characters with interesting background (a guy who can't forget everything & a woman who forgets some of her important moments). The lead couple's interactions were interesting to watch. They have the kind of romance that grows slowly & when it finally reachs its peak, it burns. I loved every minute of it.

K-drama recommendations: 5/?

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omgrachwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Our Souls Crave This Magic- Chapter Two

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader

Summary: All you want is a quiet year of university as you and your best friend, Edmund move to New York City. Though, that all changes when you meet the spoiled trust fund brat, Caspian. College au.

Warnings: fluff, slow burn romance, swearing, mentions of sex, enemies to lovers

Words: 2590

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me and all characters are 18+

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part! I forgot how bad I was at writing party scenes 🙃 I didn’t mean for this to be actual enemies to lovers but this is the way this is turning out! Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

previous chapter masterlist next chapter

Chapter Two - If Only For Tonight

Caspian grimaced as he walked through the cool streets of New York with Edmund; he always tried to never judge a book by its cover because he didn’t want to be like his parents. But, it was hard not to judge, this was a seedy part of town where muggings and drugs were rife. Caspian wouldn’t usually be caught dead in this part of town. Edmund had invited him to a college party, Caspian had thought about saying no but he didn’t want to alienate himself and he actually really liked Edmund.

Ed had even convinced Caspian to join him at Aslan’s – somewhere where Caspian had never set foot – for a couple of drinks beforehand. Caspian didn’t want to leave his friend alone, especially when Ed had ulterior motives for going to Aslan’s, the girl he fancied was going.

Ed looked back at Caspian and grinned, choking on a laugh, “oh, come on, don’t look so glum, mate, tonight is gonna be great!”

Caspian rolled his eyes at Ed as he raked his fingers through his hair, “I hope that you appreciate what I’m willing to go through for you,” Caspian grumbled as they walked into the bar.

Caspian wrinkled his nose and tried not to sneer at his surroundings, the air reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes as the music pounded in his ears, “Ed, you’re here!” there was a loud giggle as a beautiful girl with golden blonde hair ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

Edmund chuckled and blushed, it was so obvious that this was the girl that he fancied, when the girl pulled back with a grin, Ed gestured over at Caspian, “Caspian, this is Lilly, Lilly, this is Caspian.”

Caspian lifted his hand in a small wave and Lilly smiled, “it’s nice to meet you,” her gaze hardly lingered on him before she gazed back up at Ed with a wistful look in her eyes. Caspian hid a smile; it was obvious that Lilly held a torch for Edmund.

Shaking his head in amusement, he looked towards the bar and what he saw there almost made him choke on nothing. There was a girl with her back towards him, leaning up over the bar, wearing a pair of black killer heels. Caspian really tried not to stare but her lace crimson dress had ridden up enough to show the garters of the suspenders she wore.

“You’re staring, Caspian,” Ed said and Caspian could hear the smirk in his friend’s voice.

“No, I’m not,” he jolted guiltily and turned back to look at Ed, feeling like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Lilly raised an eyebrow as she looked at the bar, “hey, Y/N!”

Caspian did a double take, his stomach performing somersaults when the girl in the crimson dress – with the amazing legs – turned around and Caspian realised who he’d just been checking out. Y/N grinned, she looked just as beautiful in the front as she did from behind, Caspian just wished that she wasn’t so irritating.

Y/N gave Ed a hug while she nodded at Caspian, with the hint of a smirk on her face as she took a sip of her cocktail, “Ed and Cas, sounds like a shitty superhero show.”

Edmund rolled his eyes as they walked towards the bar, narrowly missing getting splashed with beer, “I’ll pretend that you didn’t just say that, I thought that you were working tonight,” Ed raised an eyebrow.

Y/N had had to reject so many invitations to parties in the past month because she was working, Y/N shrugged, “I was, Aslan heard about the party so let me clock of early,” she grinned before turning back to Caspian with her eyebrows raised and he tried not to let his eyes linger away from her face, “I’m surprised to see you in a place like this, thought it was too good for you. Never thought you’d climb down from your ivory tower long enough to join us mere mortals in the real world,” her tone was teasing and it surprisingly seemed to lack the venom her voice usually held.

Nevertheless, Caspian still scoffed as a bottle of beer was placed in front of him, “trust me, this is the last time you’ll ever see me in here.”

Y/N laughed, biting her lip as Caspian watched her lips touch the sugared rim of her glass and she took a small sip, “I’m going to put a better song on,” she smirked, letting her hand linger on Caspian’s chest as she brushed up against him before eventually walking past him to get to the juke box in one corner of the room.

After a little while – and a few beers – Caspian relaxed enough to let his guard down and try to enjoy the new experience. Caspian cringed slightly as he watched Edmund trying to chat Lilly up, blissfully unaware that she was trying to do the same thing. Caspian smirked over at Y/N as Ed wrapped his arms around Lilly as he helped her line up her shot on the pool table.

“Do you think that they’re really that oblivious or is just because we’re here, cramping their style?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, “can’t say yet, but I’ll tell you one thing, Lilly is amazing at pool,” she giggled and for the first time, Caspian noticed the way her face lit up and her cheeks dimpled.

Caspian laughed out loud as he looked at the couple at the pool table before glancing back at Y/N who had a wistful sort of look on her face as she watched Ed and Lilly, “you look really pretty tonight, Y/N.”

Y/N stopped stirring her blue cocktail as she looked up at him with a surprised look on her face, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, “wow, Caspian you’re sweet. Who would have thought it?” there was still that sharp tone in her voice.

Caspian knew that she didn’t like him, he just didn’t understand why, he sighed as he slouched back in his chair and frowned at her, “look, Y/N. I know that you don’t like me, I’m not expecting us to be best friends but please, for tonight can we just put our differences aside?”

Y/N smirked down at the contents of her drink before glancing back up at him from beneath her long lashes, “sure, if only for tonight, I can pretend that you’re someone else, someone likeable. As long as you let loose and take as many jello shots as humanly possible,” she laughed.

Caspian playfully sighed as he rolled his eyes, “alright, Miss Y/L/N, it’s a deal,” he laughed, clinking his glass against hers.

Half an hour later, Caspian was regretting the deal that he’d made with Y/N. He was standing in front of a huge frat house where drunken people were falling out of, left, right and centre. Was this really going to be his college experience? Caspian wanted to break away from his parents’ traditional views but did he really want to go this far?

Caspian jumped as he felt an elbow in his ribs and discovered that Y/N was grinning at him with her eyebrow raised and her teeth digging into her lip, “we have a deal, remember? Let loose, that means no judging,” she laughed a she walked in front of the group, “see you suckers later, use protection and all that jazz,” he laughed as she shot them finger guns before running into the frat house.

The party was just like Caspian thought it would be, undignified and rowdy with people practically having sex in public. Caspian tried to enjoy himself but it was hard when all he wanted to do was run out of here and never look back, he also had to reject the same sorority girl multiple times. Plus, he didn’t want to be a third wheel on Ed and Lilly for much longer.

Though, Caspian had to hand it to Y/N, the jello shots were amazing, at first they were disgustingly sweet, the flavour sticking to his tongue but they quickly grew on him. Caspian soon began to feel light headed, he wasn’t drunk, just light headed and the party was far too crowded. He pushed past an idiot who was doing a keg stand and he breathed out in relief when he got outside into the cold night air.

He sighed and leaned against the hard brick of the wall, momentarily closing his eyes. His dark eyes snapped open when he heard a whimper, he knew what happened at these types of parties, and it wasn’t good. What if someone was in trouble? He swallowed and took it upon himself to investigate.

Though, when he turned the corner, he had never wanted to turn back time so much in his life. Y/N was leaning against the wall, caught in a passionate make out session with some curly haired frat boy. She giggled and sighed when the frat boy dipped his hand beneath her skirt and she wrapped one leg around his waist, it didn’t look like she was in trouble.

The jello shots curdled in Caspian’s stomach and he felt like he was about to throw up, though he managed to hold off long enough to run back inside to look for Ed and Lilly.

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

You were roused from your sleep in the sweetest way, with soft kisses that trailed from the base of your neck, ending on your shoulder. You snapped your eyes open with a racing heart before you pieced everything together and you relaxed, you had never felt so hungover in your life. Turning over in bed, you smiled at the cute curly haired frat boy who placed a kiss on your nose. He defied all expectations of what you expected a frat boy to be, he was surprisingly sweet, now if you could only remember his name.

The frat boy smiled, his eyes the colour of honey in the weak light of day, “good morning. How you feelin?”

You let out a weak little laugh as you stretched your arms above your head, “like shit,” you hummed and trailed your fingers against his stubbled cheek, “I’m getting in the shower, are you coming?”

Sam – you remembered his name was Sam – grinned as he all but leapt out of bed, pulling on some pants, “fuck, yeah.”

You slipped on Sam’s shirt and giggled as you walked to the bathroom with Sam’s arms wrapped around you from behind. You had barely touched the doorknob before the bathroom door was wrenched open. It was hard to conceal the gasp that threatened to spill from your mouth but you managed it somehow. Caspian was standing on the other side of the door, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair was damp, water droplets were sliding down his smooth chest, disappearing beneath his towel.

You swallowed as you quickly turned away from the handsome man, “jesus, Caspian! What the hell are you doing here?!” you yelled, covering your eyes.

“Ed let me crash here last night,” he mumbled, his voice was thick with sleep and when you chanced a glance at him from beneath your fingers you saw that his deep brown eyes were blood shot.

He nodded at you as he slipped past you and Sam with red cheeks, the look on his face made you wince, you knew exactly what that look meant. You bit your lip nervously and looked at Sam who was grinning at you sheepishly, “I think you should go.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” he gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, “I’ll call you or somethin’, doll.”

You let out a relieved breath, shaking your head as you walked into the bathroom and started the shower, your face burning with embarrassment. In the shower you scrubbed your skin beneath the scalding hot water until your skin was red raw and you slipped into some comfy loungewear before taking a deep breath and walking down the stairs.

Ed, Lucy and Caspian (who was thankfully dressed) were all sitting around the table, Caspian and Ed refused to look you in the eye, while Lucy was bright red, a little smile on her face as she pushed a plate of pancakes towards you. The silence was unbearable as you drizzled syrup over your breakfast, adding sprinkles to the top.

“Did your friend not want to stay for breakfast?” Lucy asked, her voice shaking with laughter while Edmund scowled at her.

You let out a sigh as you looked up at the boys, “look I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that I quite clearly kept you up for most of the night,” Ed looked up at you before flushing and looking back down at his breakfast while Caspian kept his eyes on you, narrowing them ever so slightly.

“I’m just sad that you guys didn’t invite me to the party,” Lucy pouted as she stabbed at her pancakes with her fork.

Edmund choked on his coffee as he looked at his sister, his eyes blown wide, “for one, you’re not old enough if you wanted to go to parties at 19, then you should have stayed in England. Two, if going to frat parties has that outcome, then you’re never going to one, ever.”

Caspian chuckled as he ran a hand through his still damp hair and you couldn’t help but watch his movements, you hated to admit it but he looked good in the morning, “you’re just mad that you didn’t get lucky with Lilly.”

The four of you laughed together before Lucy initiated a whole new conversation that broke the tension and for that, you were internally grateful. Everything was going well as everyone tucked into their pancakes, or at least you thought they were going well.

Caspian frowned as he looked up at you, “is that usual for you? Bringing back some guy you hardly know?”

The silence was deafening as you looked up from your breakfast and glared at the handsome man who was sitting opposite you and he didn’t look especially guilty, “what the hell is that supposed to mean? What are you implying?” you asked, getting defensive because you knew exactly what he was implying. You hardly knew Caspian; he was in no position to start judging you.

“Y/N,” Ed trailed off in a warning voice as he looked between you and Caspian with a worried expression on his face.

“No, Ed,” you glared at him before looking back at Caspian who was leaning back in his chair, his eyebrows raised at you, “he’s got something to say, so say it, Cas!” he was silent as he swallowed and he averted his eyes and you scoffed at him, “just as I thought,” you stood up, taking your plate of pancakes, “I’m not ashamed for enjoying sex, even if it is with a stranger. Just because you’re probably a sad virgin doesn’t mean we all have to be. You stay away from me.”

You knew that he was only trying to get underneath your skin, as payback for all the times you got under his skin. Also, you knew that there was no way in hell that someone as good looking as him was a virgin but it made you feel better to insinuate it.

“It would be my pleasure,” he mumbled.

You scowled back at him as you stormed into your room with your blood boiling, you hated him so much.

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@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @generalblizzarddreamer @blackbirddaredevil23 @whiskeywinter89

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