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jmnjmnjmn · 4 years ago

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Celebrity Crush| part 1 | BTS x Reader mini series

Pairing: BTS x Celebrity!Reader

Key words: celebrity crush, singer, idol.

Word count: around 8,000

Masterlist

Okay, this one is just regular fluff, but it definitely has potential to become more juicy, maybe even angsty... I had many ideas when I was writing it, but decided upon cutting it where I did. Maybe there will be part two to this story, maybe not. If there will be it will also probably be able to functionas a totaly separate one shot. Also I couldn’t decide on a ship here! Initially it was supposed to be RM, but I kept coming back to JK (my bias xd). That’s where possibility of an angst story lays... Anyway tell me what you think of this piece!

“AH!” Namjoon exclaimed, dropping his spoon down into his soup.

“Hey, watch it! You’re spilling everything!” Seokjin yelled back at him as some of his friend's soup splashed out from his bowl.

“What happened?” Hoseok asked, sipping his soup slowly and looking at Namjoon with curiosity.

“It’s-It’s (Y/N).” He stuttered out, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. He was scrolling through Twitter when he noticed a tweet from his favourite female artist, (Y/N), announcing her world wide tour.

“What? Did she message you?” Seokjin asked him with a chuckle, knowing well that wouldn’t happen.

“I wish.” Namjoon scoffed and clicked on a link to an article some music site posted immediately after reading (Y/N)’s tweet. “(Y/N) has announced details of her long-awaited world tour.” He read out loud to his friends already feeling his heartbeat pick up. “The singer has continuously updated her fans on the details, promising them that she was working on the announcement. Now, via a short video on Instagram simply captioned ‘Hello world’, she has finally revealed when and where the No Limitations tour will be starting off. You can see the full dates, which she simultaneously posted on her Twitter account, below.” He quickly scrolled down to take a look at the dates and locations. His jaw dropped as he scanned down the list and noticed the Asia leg of the tour. “Soul is on the list.” He muttered. “In January. Seoul is on the list.” He repeated looking at his friends with wide eyes.

“Finally!” Hoseok exclaimed reaching across the table to pat him on the shoulder. “You can go see her then.”

“It hasn’t been announced when tickets will go on sale.” Namjoon said in panic as he frantically searched the internet for information about the tour.

“I’m sure our staff can get you in there without a ticket.” Seokjin said casually, but Namjoon took the matter very seriously. (Y/N) wasn’t just someone who’s music he liked. He also had a huge crush on her as a girl in general and he wasn’t about to pass on an opportunity to see her perform live.

“I have to talk to our PD about that.” He said in an excited tone and clicked his Messages app to draft up a passionate yet professional text saying how much he wants, no, needs to go to (Y/N)’s Seoul concert.

“Now?” Seokjin asked, taken aback a little by his fast pace.

“No time to waste. It’s (Y/N) we’re talking about.” Namjoon chuckled. “If all goes well maybe we could work on some music together.”

“Yeah and maybe something more.” Hoseok teased him, earning a loud laugh from Seokjin. Namjoon only smiled up at them from his phone, because among those who followed the news about BTS it was a well known fact that he had a thing for (Y/N).

Whenever they would get asked about their celebrity crushes in interviews he would say (Y/N)’s name. Ideal girl - someone like (Y/N). A song they could listen to on loop - (Y/N)’s latest single. Fashion inspiration at the moment - (Y/N). Favourite movie - that one (Y/N) had a cameo in for like three minutes. It would happen so much that ARMY’s started making compilations of him talking about her on YouTube called “Namjoon drooling over (Y/N) for 7 minutes straight” and so on. At first he was embarrassed about it, but after some time that awkward feeling turned into hope that maybe she’ll see it and fall for him as well. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he still liked to imagine the moment you would message him saying you would love to collab on a song.

“I’m going to go talk to our PD.” Namjoon said, as he took off the bright pink sunglasses with Happy New Year written on top of them in a silly font. He wore them for the small photoshoot they just had for BTS’s New Year’s Eve post on Twitter.

“Now?” Jimin asked him, raising his brows. He was still wearing his party hat he put on for the session. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“I know. I just-” He was interrupted by Taehyung’s loud cheer. “I’ll be right back.” Jimin just shook his head at his eagerness to find out whether (Y/N)’s staff has already answered BigHit’s request for letting Namjoon go to your show with a backstage pass as a celebrity guest of sorts.

Since they were already at the BigHit headquarters for the photoshoot and a little celebration for the beginning of the new year Namjoon had to walk just a couple of doors down to get to PD’s office. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. After hearing a faint invitation he pressed on the handle and opened it.

“Oh, it’s you. Why aren’t you with the others celebrating?” The PD asked, obviously surprised to see Namjoon.

“Ah, yes. I’ll be joining them in a minute.” He said, remembering Jimin’s words. “I just came here to ask about the No Limitations show. It’s in January and since it’s already first of the month I wondered-”

“Ah, of course.” PD cut him off with a smile. “You're going.”

“Really?” Namjoon asked in shock.

“Yes, all of you are.” Namjoon must have looked very confused for a moment there, because PD rushed with an explanation. “We got an answer saying they were going to issue a formal invitation to the concert and an after party to the whole band anyway. Go and pass on the news to the rest of the boys. We’ll have a proper meeting about this next week.” Namjoon thanked him accesively and assured he’ll let the rest of the members know about the situation. As he walked down the hall he heard their voices from the dance studio they had the photo shoot in. He was speechless.

“It’s happening.” He thought, leaning on the wall to catch a breath before coming inside. After a moment he pushed the door open and joined his group members with a bright smile.

“Guys, guys. Listen” He called. “We’re going to (Y/N)’s concert!” He exclaimed and they cheered, gathering around him, smothering him with hugs and tugging on his cheeks teasingly.

“Look at him.” Jimin chuckled pointing at Namjoon who was pacing around the room. “So excited for the concert.”

“Of course he is. He’s going to meet his crush.” Seokjin added, also laughing.

The whole group was teasing him about (Y/N) all throughout January. It was seventeenth today, the day of her Seoul show and he couldn’t wait. They already got their hair and makeup done. They were dressed to the nines. All that was left was to get to the show.

“The car is here.” Someone from the staff announced and all the boys got up from their spots. As they walked down the hall together they all took turns patting Namjoon on the shoulder for encouragement.

“Do you think we’ll have a chance to talk to her?” Jungkook asked with excitement when they were all in the car together.

“Of course!” Hoseok exclaimed.

“No, but like, for real talk. Not just: nice to meet you, let’s take a picture, goodbye.” The youngest explained quickly.

“Hopefully.” Seokjin said, patting Namjoon on the thigh as that was something he was worried about. He would definitely be happy if he got even only a second with (Y/N), but he wished for more.

After a short drive the car stopped in an underground parking lot under the venue of the concert. As they got outside they could hear the cheers of the crowds gathered outside. Their staff took them on an elevator explaining once again how the night will go. First a before party with other guests, then the concert itself and after that the after party at a hotel. Namjoon repeated the sequence of these events in his head a million times already. Technically he was prepared, but practically he was a mess. His hands were sweating and his heart was racing like crazy. He looked around the small elevator at his closest friends and the familiar faces of BigHit staff who were accompanying them. Realising he has so many people around him for support eased his nerves a little.

“I can’t believe we’re in the same building.” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, she was also in the same building as us at the VMA’s and AMA’s and so on.” Yoongi teased him and everyone chuckled.

“That’s true, Namjoon.” Taehyung agreed with a grin. “You shouldn’t be so worried.”

“Easy for you to say.” Namjoon added right as the elevator door opened.

“Yeah, she already saw us perform at one of the award shows. She knows who we are. It’s going to be fine.” Jimin said in a nervous tone. Namjoon just nodded to himself trying to make the anxious thoughts go away as they approached the area where the before party was held.

They were all excited to see (Y/N)’s show and attend her after party, but with the tremendous enthusiasm also came the stress of meeting an A list celebrity from overseas.

“I can’t believe she’s still not here.” Namjoon whined to Taehyung and Jimin as the rest of the group scattered to chat with other invited idols and celebrities. “All the dancers and her band are here already.”

“It’s still early.” Taehyung tried to cheer him up. “She’ll show up any moment. I’m sure.”

“Definitely.” Jimin agreed with him energetically.

Before Namjoon could voice another concerned thought lingering in his brain everyone in the room started cheering and clapping. He looked around wondering what caused this reaction as he noticed the obvious reason.

“Thank you all so much for coming.” (Y/N) said stopping somewhere in the middle of the gathered crowd of celebrities and staff. “It means a lot. Really.” She put her hand to her chest as she spoke. “If all goes well the show will be starting in a couple of minutes. Wish me luck and have fun.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked as (Y/N) was rushed away by her staff to the stage entry. “I thought she was going to chat with everyone or something.”

“Do you chat with guests before the show?” Jimin asked. “That’s what the after party is for.” He explained and Namjoon hummed in agreement. Just the quick glimpse he caught of her was enough to leave him speechless.

“Let’s go watch the show.” Hoseok said approaching the three from behind with the rest of the group following close behind.

There was a big screen in the backstage lounge and a couple of smaller TV’s located at the stage entries for those that wanted to glance at the stage during the show to see the real deal. They watched the first half of the show in the lounge and later relocated to the left entry area. Namjoon’s eyes were glued to the screen as everyone around him chatted away. He tried to pay attention to the conversation and partake from time to time, but his focus quickly went back to (Y/N). She looked stunning singing and dancing on stage.

Suddenly a group of staff dressed in all black rushed into the area they were hanging out in with some other guests.

“Wardrobe change, left.” One of the staff said as she clicked on her earpiece.

Namjoon almost jumped out of his seat when he saw (Y/N) jogging down from the stage and into the swarm of her people from her team.

“Woah, that gave me chills.” Yoongi commented as (Y/N) passed by them surrounded by her wardrobe, hair and makeup team.

“Say something.” Hoseok whispered, elbowing Namjoon’s side.

“Like what?” He asked following (Y/N) with his gaze as she disappeared behind her dressing room's door.

“Great show, looking good. Anything really.” He encouraged him with a cheeky smile.

“No.” Namjoon shook his head, already feeling the blood rushing to his head.

“Do it. Do it.” The rest of the members repeated after Hoseok, but he only shook his head once again.

“She’ll come out any second.” Seokjin added in a warning tone.

He was right. The dance number performed by her backup dancers was getting to an end and (Y/N) should be running out onto the stage soon to sing the next song.

“Great show!” Jungkook yelled out in English.

All the boys’s heads snapped in his direction and then onto (Y/N). She was walking out of her dressing room in long strides. As Jungkook yelled out his praise she turned to look his way without stopping,

“Thank you!” She answered quickly before being escorted by her staff into the understage corridors.

All the boys started shoving and pushing the youngest member teasingly.

“Namjoon was supposed to say that. You took over his part. Jungkook, you’re so eager.” They yelled with laughter.

“What time is it?” Taehyung asked the group as most of the guests gathered in the backstage lounge to watch the encore of the show.

“It’s close to eleven.” Seokjin answered, looking at his phone.

“Before we finish off the show with this last song I just wanted to take a minute to say: Thank you so much.” (Y/N)’s voice echoed from the stage and through the speakers in the lounge. She was standing in the bright lights holding the mic to her lips. “Thank you for choosing to come see the show and spending the night here with us. I really can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for all of you, here in the audience and back at home watching and streaming my music and the shows. Thank you so much.”

“Ah, she’s so nice. Never forgetting about her fans.” People around muttered.

“I really, truly appreciate you guys. I cannot imagine how this year would’ve gone if I hadn't spent it with all of you, all of the people on the stage and behind it. We’ve been away from our homes for so long.” (Y/N) voice got higher with nerves and sadness that came over her as she spoke about her home. “We’re coming close to ten months on the road now. That’s a long time.” She said, bringing her hand to her chest to show her gratitude. “Thank you so much for putting up with me.” She chuckled and the staff cheered. “I feel so lucky and so fortunate to be working with all of you and to be able to perform in front of all of you.” She sighed deeply, undoubtedly masking a cry. “So thank you. I love you so much. Thank you.”

The audience was shouting and applauding loudly as (Y/N) walked off the stage waving to them. As soon as she was out of the view she handed her microphone to one of the sound people and took a big gulp of water from the bottle one of the staff handed her.

“Thank you.” She breathed out. “I need to get out of this hair as soon as possible.” She chuckled tiredly as she walked into her dressing room.

“We’ve got about twenty minutes to get you ready for the after party.” Her assistant, who was waiting inside, spoke calmly as the beauty and wardrobe team gathered around (Y/N) quickly taking out the bobby pins from her hair and undoing the back of her dress. “There’s quite a lot of guests your manager would like you to talk to, at least for a minute.” She said and quickly moved on to listing all the most important people attending the party.

“Have any of those people been informed that I might want to reach out to work with them later?” (Y/N) asked, getting into her oversized sweatshirt dress with the help of some staff so that she doesn’t ruin her makeup.

“No, that’ll be done after tonight. Sometime this week though.” She explained scrolling through something on her tablet.

“What time is the flight to Osaka tomorrow?” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired as she thought of getting on another plane.

“Actually, there’s been a change of plans.” Her assistant said casually. “You got surprise booked for a daytime show tomorrow, so we’re staying in Seoul for that for the whole day and flying to Japan the next morning. The crew will be already there setting everything up for Saturday.”

“Two days in Seoul?” (Y/N) was surprised.

“Mhm.”

“What’s the show?”

“King of Masked Singer. You’re going to be the surprise opening act. I’ll fill you in on everything tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.” She said smiling at herself in the mirror as the hairstylist was fixing up her hair.

“Heels or sneakers?” One of the wardrobe girls asked.

“Heels.” (Y/N) answered without hesitation. She wanted to look her best when surrounded with so many new faces at the after party and pairing sneakers with an oversized sweatshirt didn’t seem like the greatest combination for that.

“Ready.” The head stylist stated as one of the staff helped (Y/N) get into her thigh high booties.

From there, accompanied by security, (Y/N) and her assistant walked to the elevator that took them to the parking lot located under the venue.

As (Y/N)’s car pulled up in front of the hotel a swarm of fans and paparazzi started yelling out her name and waving to get her attention. She stopped to get her pictures taken, walked up to a couple of fans to sign their albums or pictures and walked inside to get to the after party. With her assistant following her every step and the three body guards right behind them she took yet another elevator to the hotel bar rented for the occasion.

“Let’s do this.” (Y/N) whispered to herself as she pushed the bar door open.

When she walked deeper into the crowded room random hands touched her shoulders and unknown voices spoke words of praise directed her way. She smiled and thanked the faceless mass making her way towards the DJ’s stand.

“That’s her.” Hoseok whispered as (Y/N) passed by the group of boys.

“Woah. She’s dressed cool.” Taehyung gasped, eying down her figure.

When she stepped onto the slightly elevated stage the DJ stopped the music and handed her a microphone. A wave of cheers erupted from the gathered guests as everyone noticed the star of the night had arrived.

“Hi.” (Y/N) spoke sweetly into the microphone and let the crowd yell or whistle back at her for a moment. “It’s so nice to see all of you here.” She chuckled. “Eat, drink, have fun. It’s all on me tonight. Just tonight.” She joked and the crowd clapped and yelled in excitement. “I know you all came here after the concert, but it’s not all about my music tonight.” Her tone turned mysterious all of a sudden. “It’s actually a very special day for someone else as well. A very funny guy, an inspiration in the studio, a dance mastermind and a dear friend and coworker of mine.” With every endearment term she listed the cheers got wilder. “Johnny Campbell. Where you at?” She asked looking around the room.

“Here!” Someone called out in the front of the room.

“Johnny, this is for you.” (Y/N) said in a low voice and started singing a very sexy adaptation of the birthday song.

As she finished someone in the crowd whistled and Johnny joined her on stage.

“Happy birthday Johnny.” (Y/N) finished off her wishes and hugged him tightly. “Let’s party, everyone!” She exclaimed into the microphone earning a loud cheer from everyone gathered at the bar.

(Y/N) made her way to the bar, stopping to chat and take a picture with someone every couple of steps. More than twenty minutes had passed from the moment she got off stage to when she finally got to the counter and grabbed herself a glass of expensive champagne. She sipped on the bubbly liquid and chatted to members of her dance crew. Looking around the room she locked eyes with a guy she recognised from somewhere. It took her a minute to realise it was BTS’s Jimin she was looking at. She smiled to herself, remembering that his group was on her manager’s to-talk-to list. Being halfway done with her drink she decided to down it and get another one before walking up to the group of boys.

“Oh my god.” Jimin exclaimed. “(Y/N) just looked here.”

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked, feeling his panic and excitement blur into one.

“At the bar.” He answered through gritted teeth.

“She’s coming here. She’s coming here.” Jungkook said quickly as (Y/N) made her way towards them.

“Hi, guys. I’m so glad you could make it.” She said in a sweet tone. “I’m (Y/N).”

“We know.” Jungkook blurted out which would normally earn him a shove to the shoulder from the older members, but the sound of (Y/N)’s chuckle at his comment made them relax and join her with nervous laughter. “I’m Jungkook.” He added extending his hand.

“I know.” (Y/N) answered with a smile and went for a hug and kiss on the cheek instead of a simple handshake.

“You know?” He asked in shock.

“Yes, I saw you guys perform at award shows, your music is everywhere. I know BTS.” The members smiled widely as she explained and started greeting the rest of them in the same way one by one. The hugs were quick, but still sincere. “I’m so happy you found time in your busy schedule to come see my show.”

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Namjoon said, trying to sound cool and collected. He wasn’t going to mention that he practically begged their PD to get them backstage.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled and Namjoon’s knees almost went weak at the sight.

“Yes, great show.” Jungkook added and the group laughed.

“Oh, it was you.” (Y/N) also laughed realising it was Jungkook who yelled the words of praise her way halfway through the concert.

“Yes, I… Liked your dance with… By Your Side.” Jungkook said slowly making sure he picked the right words. “Great choreography.”

“Thank you.” She answered, bringing her hand to her chest as she accepted his compliment. “It’s nothing compared to your routines though. Those look hard.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. We work hard. A lot of practice.” They muttered with modesty.

“Honestly!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I was trying to learn the routine for your song with Halsey with my girls… So hard.”

“Boy With Luv?” Jimin raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but the foot choreo was killing me.” She complained jokingly.

“Hyung, ask her which member’s part she learned.” Jungkook asked Namjoon in Korean.

“He wants to know which member’s choreography you learned.” Namjoon explained.

“Yours,” (Y/N) pointed to Jungkook.

“Me?” He asked and she nodded energetically. “Hyung, say I can teach her the choreography.” He added in Korean with a wide smile, still shocked he’s talking to such a huge star. Namjoon and the rest of the boys laughed at the youngest member’s bluntness.

“He’s saying he’ll teach you.” Namjoon hurried with an explanation as (Y/N) looked confused by what they were laughing about.

“Watch out, ‘cause I’ll take you up on that offer.” She raised her brow at Jungkook cheekily who looked at Namjoon for a translation.

“She says she might take you up on that.” He translated to his friend and he laughed, feeling a blush creep up onto his face.

“I sang your song during soundcheck today.” (Y/N) stated and all the members raised their brows at her.

“Which one?” Jungkook asked.

“Sweet Night. V’s solo.” She said pointing to Taehyung. “It’s such a sweet song and you sound amazing in it.” She said, touching his shoulder.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled, bowing to her slightly.

Not in many moments Namjoon was glad that his members couldn’t speak English as well as he did, but right now he couldn’t be happier about it. They were all so excited to be talking to (Y/N) they forgot their tongues. The alcoholic beverages that they already consumed didn’t help either. They asked him for translations every other sentence, meaning (Y/N) needed him to translate for her as well, meaning he was talking to her more than any other member, meaning she looked at him more than at any other member. Despite the language barrier the conversation flowed so easily between them. He felt ecstatic.

“(Y/N).” Her assistant called her name and brought her to the side for a moment.” It’s showtime.”

By saying “showtime” she meant that it’s time for (Y/N) to perform a song or two to entertain the guests and keep the party going.

“I’ll be right there.” She answered her and walked back to the group of boys.

“V, could I borrow you for a moment?” She asked with a sweet voice.

Unsure of what she might want from him, but still excited Taehyung followed (Y/N) into the bar.

“You said you love Underneath and know the lyrics by heart.” She said, glancing at him as they walked side by side through the crowded room filled with chatter and music. Taehyung hummed in agreement, feeling his heartbeat grow faster and faster. “You know them well enough to sing it live with me now?”

“What?” He asked, almost tripping over his own feet.

“I’m supposed to perform a couple of songs now. Would you like to perform one with me?” She asked stopping and looked him in the eyes with hope.

“Of course.” Taehyung answered, giving her his signature box smile.

“Great!” She exclaimed and grabbed his hand to lead him backstage. “This way.”

“Where do you think she took him?” Seokjin asked as (Y/N) disappeared with Taehyung in the crowd.

“I have no idea.” Namjoon answered, also curious about the whole ordeal.

“She’s very nice.” Jungkook commented.

“Yeah, nicer than I imagined.” Yoongi added.

“We have to get a picture together.” Hoseok said and the rest of the boys agreed.

“Look, there’s (Y/N).” Jimin pointed towards the stage where the DJ’s booth was located.

“Welcome to the stage, the one and only, (Y/N) and Korea’s very own, V of BTS!” Announced the DJ and all the boys’s jaws dropped to the floor.

“What?!” They screamed in unison.

“Hi.” (Y/N) said in a low voice. “V and I have a very special cover for you tonight. Please enjoy, Underneath.”

The rest of the members sang along to the fast paced pop song as V and (Y/N) performed. The lyrics talked about hidden feelings and the tension that can build up if you don’t give them a way out. Even though (Y/N) and Taehyung never sang together before their voices blended perfectly in the duet. When they finished their performance the crowd applauded loudly. (Y/N) put her arm behind Taehyung and he did the same. Joined in this side hug they bowed to the audience.

After a minute or two Taehyung got back to his friends with the widest smile on his face.

“Can you believe this?” He was still in shock.

“Congratulations. You were so good. Woah.” All the boys chattered at the same time.

“I recorded you.” Seokjin added as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. They gathered around the small screen watching Taehyung and (Y/N)’s performance once again.

“Where is she?” Namjoon asked Taehyung as the video came to an end.

“Last I saw her she was talking to MAMAMOO.”

“Ah, so cool. She’s probably busy. We didn’t even take a picture together.” The group chimed. After a moment of sulking they went back to obsessing over the fact that they met (Y/N) and that one of their own members sang with her.

Surrounded by music, food and alcohol the time seemed to fly by very fast. Accompanied by their staff they left the party around two in the morning without having a chance to talk to (Y/N) one more time.

Mornings after concerts are usually pretty bad for both the audience members and the performing artists, but mornings after concerts combined with after parties, meeting new people and mingling with every music producer possible are even harder.

(Y/N) woke up with a headache and a bitter taste in her mouth. From her bed she walked straight to the bathroom to take a shower. When brushing her teeth she scrolled through her Twitter feed reviewing every other caption or photo on the endless string of posts from last night she was tagged in. She liked a couple of tweets posted by her friends and was about to lock her phone when she noticed a simple caption.

“Great show #정국” (Y/N) pressed on the picture to see it whole. She immediately recognised Jungkook, one of the members of BTS, a band she met last night. He was standing in front of the big monitor backstage with her tour logo on it, making hearts with his fingers and smiling at the camera. She smiled to herself remembering how easily yesterday’s conversation flowed with the group of boys.

“Ah, I wish I had his number.” (Y/N) muttered. “I could take him up on that dance lesson offer.”

(Y/N) rushed to open her hotel room’s door to the room service. The hoteboy brought in the big breakfast she just ordered minutes ago and set it on the table. As she got ready to dig into the scrambled eggs her phone started vibrating. She looked at the called ID and quickly picked up as she saw it was her assistant calling. She gave her a quick rundown of the day’s events and informed her she’s free to rest and relax until three in the afternoon.

“That’s when they’ll pick us up for King of Masked Singer.” She finished explaining.

“I have one more question.” An interesting idea popped into (Y/N)’s head. “Is there a way you could get me the number of BTS’s Jungkook?”

(Y/N)’s phone chimed as she was finishing up her breakfast. She picked it up reading the message she just recieved.

“I got it.” As she read the message from her assistant another one appeared on the screen. This time it was a string of numbers.

“Ah, what should I say?” (Y/N) pasted the number into her contacts and waited a minute before pressing the dial button. The phone beeped a couple of times before going silent. Jungkook didn’t pick up. “Hm. Let’s try again.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Jungkook was hanging out with his friends in their shared apartment. He was typing something up on his phone when the screen lip up with an unfamiliar number.

“Hyung, do you know this number?” He showed the ringing screen to Taehyung sitting beside him on the couch.

“No. Pick up.” Jungkook just shook his head at his answer.

“I don’t pick up unknown callers.” He rejected the call and went back to what he was doing. “This person is calling again.”

“Pick up.” More preoccupied with switching through TV channels, Taehyung encouraged him tiredly. Jungkook swiped right to take the call and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” He asked in Korean.

“Ah- Hello.” Jungkook and Taehyung locked eyes in surprise and curiosity as the person on the other side spoke in English. “It’s (Y/N). From yesterday.” Taehyung almost screamed in shock. Jungkook felt all his blood rush to his head.

“Ah, sorry. Hello. Sorry.” He stumbled over his words, trying to explain why he didn’t answer her call at first ring. “I don’t pick up if I don’t know the number.” (Y/N) chuckled on the other end of the line.

“It’s fine.” Her voice was sweet and calm. “Actually, I’m calling, ‘cause I’m still in Seoul-” Taehyung stood up from the couch covering his mouth with his hands, still in deep shock. “-and I was wondering- I was thinking about what you said last night, so…” Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows, trying his hardest to remember what he said that made (Y/N) call him the next morning. “If you have time we could meet and dance together.” Taehyung gasped. “You could teach me the Boy With Luv choreo and-” Jungkook couldn’t control himself and answered her before she could even finish asking the question.

“Yes.” He blurted out. Taehyung jumped back on the couch and pushed his shoulder with a huge smile.

“Really?”

“Yes, yes.” He assured her.

“Should I come to your-” Eager to see her he cut her off again.

“You can come to our studio. I will text you the address.”

“Great. I’m free until three in the afternoon so text me the time as well.” She added.

“Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll see you there.” (Y/N) added after a moment of silence.

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

“AH!” Jungkook threw his phone, which felt red hot in his hands right now, on the other side of the couch.

“What was that?!” Taehyung yelled, shaking on his shoulders. “How did she get your number?!”

“I have no idea!” Jungkook felt his body relax as he was no longer on the phone. “Oh my god. I have to text her now!” He reached to dig his phone out from under a stack of pillows and blankets on the couch. “And I have to go see her!”

“You’re doing great.” Jungkook praised (Y/N) with laughter as she jokingly overdid the moves and gestures in the choreography. “Like that.”

“Okay, but in all seriousness how did I do?” She asked, cutting the jokes short. Jungkook raised his thumbs up with a smile and she chuckled again.

“Let’s do it again and record it so we can review. You vs me.” He set his phone up on the floor by the mirrors in the studio space at BigHit.

“Teacher vs student.” Jungkook just hummed in agreement before playing the music.

Tired after practicing Boy With Luv for an hour and freestyling for almost two more (Y/N) and Jungkook sat down on the floor of the dance studio panting. She stood up to get herself some water and immediately regretted it.

“Ah, my legs.” Jungkook smiled at her words. Although (Y/N) danced in her music videos and during live performances her routines were far more relaxed that BTS’s regular dances. Their moves were sharp and strong and her’s more sexy and slow. Chucked her emptied water bottle back into her bag and turned to face Jungkook again. “Are you hungry?” He raised his brows, knowing what will come next if he says he is in fact hungry.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go eat something.” Her proposition was so blunt and free. He could not refuse her, but the excitement that filled his chest at that moment didn’t overshadow the fact that the rest of his group would be so bummed they didn’t get to eat with (Y/N) as well.

“Ah, can I do this to them?” He whined in Korean. (Y/N) gave him a confused look since she didn’t understand a word he just said. “My members will be jealous.” He explained with a slight smile.

“Oh, I didn’t think about that. Should we invite them?” That Jungkook wasn’t expecting.

“You want that?” He asked to make sure he didn’t just hear something wrong. (Y/N) smiled sincerely at his unsure expression.

“Yeah, why not?” Jungkook quickly got up from the ground and dug his phone up from his pocket.

“I’ll call them. Wait a second.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) answered as he walked out of the studio to call his friends.

Jungkook dialed Namjoon’s number, knowing he was at the apartment right now enjoying his day of rest. The line beeped a couple of times before he finally picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and sleepy in contrast with Jungkook’s, which was excited and fast paced.

“Hyung, listen. Get the rest of the guys and put me on speaker. I have something to tell all of you.”

“What is it?”

“Are they all there?”

“Wait a second.” Some shuffling and name calling was heard on the other side of the line before Namjoon spoke up again. “Okay, go.”

“So I’m with (Y/N) right now. We just got done dancing and all that and… She’s invited us all to lunch.”

“What? Oh, wow. Really? How cool.” The group erupted in chatter as they heard Jungkook’s news.

“Yeah. Can you come?”

“Of course. Yes. I can’t.” Another bundle of statements was heard.

“Who can’t?” Jungkook asked, saddened.

“Yoongi.” Seokjin said.

“I already have plans with our producers, but you all should go.” Yoongi explained, still encouraging the rest of the boys to go out.

“You sure?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, go.”

“We’ll take a picture for you.” Hoseok joked.

“What are we going to eat?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook answered, not really having thought about that yet.

“Since we know Seoul maybe we should pick the place?” Seokjin proposed thoughtfully.

“Good idea. I’ll tell her that. When will you come here?”

“Thirty minutes? We need to get dressed.” Namjoon said and murmur of agreement was heard.

“Okay, okay. Don’t overdress though, we’re both in sweatpants.” Jungkook added with a chuckle. After exchanging goodbyes he hung up and sighed deeply, letting his shoulders relax a little before going back into the studio.

When he opened the door he saw (Y/N) stretching her legs in a sitting down position. He joined her on the floor before speaking.

As Taehyung pulled into BigHit’s parking lot Jungkook and (Y/N) were already waiting outside. Both dressed in large black puffer jackets going over their knees, they stood beside one another. Jungkook was looking over (Y/N)’s shoulder pointing to something on her phone.

“Now you can add a picture.” He said, swiping his finger on her screen. (Y/N) nodded and pressed on the camera option.

“Take a selfie with me.” She asked, raising her phone up to take a picture of the two of them.

Jungkook smiled shyly and pulled his mask down half way. (Y/N) did the same before snapping a cute picture to set as her contact photo. Jungkook quickly pulled his mask back up to cover his cheeks that started to turn bright red. He glanced over her shoulder as she manipulated the photo to fit both of their faces into the small square.

“And synchronise your contacts, so I will be there.” He added as she finally accepted the placement of the picture.

“Oh, great.”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) pressed on the ‘synch contacts’ button before looking up at Jungkook.

“Thank you.” She said sweetly and pulled her mask back over her nose.

“You’re welcome.”

Taehyung noticed the two of them standing in front of the building exit and slowly pulled up. As he got closer he rolled down his window.

“Hello!” The sudden greeting made them jump up slightly.

“Hi!” (Y/N) called back sweetly.

“Come in!” Shoulder to shoulder they walked towards the car after Taehyung's invitation.

Namjoon was already sitting in the passenger's seat making it so that Jungkook and (Y/N) had to sit together in the backseat.

“How was dance practice?” Namjoon asked them.

“What was it?” (Y/N) tapped Jungkook’s arm. He whispered something to her and she clapped her hands in realisation. “Daebak.” Namjoon and Taehyung laughed at her harsh pronunciation.

“It was good. Great.” Jungkook added after the chuckles died down. “Where are the other guys?” He asked Namjoon in Korean.

“The rest of the guys will meet us at the restaurant.” He explained in English, so (Y/N) could understand. She was still doing something on her phone when he glanced at her from the front seat.

“Jungkook.” Her shy tone echoed in the car. “I synced the contacts, but you’re not here.” She showed him her phone with a concerned expression. “Look.”

“Maybe I will just add my number like normal and then it will be saved in the contacts.” (Y/N) hummed in agreement, giving him her phone.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked in Korean, eying the two in the rearview mirror. Jungkook glanced at him, thanking god that (Y/N) doesn’t speak their language.

“I made (Y/N) a Kakao account.”

“And you’re putting your number in?” Taehyung continued in a teasing tone. Jungkook smiled at (Y/N)’s screen and typed in his ID.

“It’s not like that.”

The boys picked out a traditional korean diner with private rooms and floor level tables. They ordered mountains of meat to fry and tons of side dishes, soups and rice. At first (Y/N) widened her eyes at the amount of food concerned there will be leftovers, but within thirty or forty minutes she realised that those six boys’s stomachs can intake much more food that she can.

The conversation within the group flowed swiftly and comfortably as it did the night before. There even was some talk about possible musical collaborations. No one was looking at the clock, but at two o’clock sharp (Y/N)’s phone buzzed.

“Ah, it’s my assistant.” She announced with deep sorrow in her voice. “Unfortunately I will have to get going soon, guys. I have a TV appearance this evening.”

“TV today?” Seokjin asked in English. He seemed really shocked. When he spoke again he directed his words to Namjoon and spoke in Korean. “She shouldn't have eaten so much noodles and rice. She’ll be bloated and puffy. That’s very bad.”

“He says noodles and rice is bad for TV, ‘cause you might get puffy.” Namjoon explained to (Y/N) who just waved him off and chuckled.

“Ah, I’ll be wearing a big dress and a mask anyway.”

“What show are you on?” Namjoon asked, curiously.

“Something called King of Masked Singer.” The boys started talking over each other in Korean and patting Jungkook on the shoulders. After a moment of that Namjoon translated the jist of it to (Y/N).

“Yeah, so JK also was on that show.” (Y/N), who was sitting opposite to the youngest member of the group, looked up at him with a smile.

“Really?” She asked after swallowing another sip of hot soup. “What did they put you in? What costume?”

“I was…” He wanted to tell her everything in English, but was missing the most crucial word. “Hyung, how do you say fencer?” He asked Namjoon who looked confused for a second before answering him with a shrug. Jungkook reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’ll show you.” He typed the right words into YouTube and passed (Y/N) his phone. As soon as she looked at the moving screen she nodded in realisation.

“Ah, fencer.”

“Fencer, yes.” Namjoon agreed. (Y/N) skimmed through the video listening to Jungkook’s clear and beautiful vocals in the cover of BIGBANG’s If You.

“Woah, this is good.” She said, looking up at him.

“Thank you.” He accepted the compliment as she passed the phone back to him.

“You know what you will have?” Hoseok asked.

“What I’ll be dressed in? Yeah, I’m singing Beauty and the Beast, so I’ll be a princess.”

“Ah, cute.” Seokjin called out with a chuckle as (Y/N)’s phone buzzed once more.

“Ah, I really have to go.” She sighed deeply as the boys whined at her early leave. “I have to get myself intact before going to the studio.” She said gesturing to her laid back outfit. Since she was meeting Jungkook earlier for dance practice she was wearing a pair of branded sneakers, high waisted sweatpants and a hoodie - an outfit most of the boys in the room thought of as very pretty, but to her it was just workout gear.

“Do you need a ride?” Jungkook asked, all of a sudden realising she drove here with them and might not have a ride back to her hotel, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, my security is already parked outside.” The boys nodded at the professional sound of that statement. She was an A list celebrity after all and couldn’t just run around town by herself.

Everyone stood up from the table as (Y/N) slipped on her shoes and jacket.

“It was so nice to see you again.” Namjoon started as (Y/N) turned towards them before going out the door of the private dining room. She smiled sincerely and swung her backpack onto her shoulder.

“I’m so glad we got to hang out.” She looked at them with a shine in her eyes before going in for a hug with each of them. “And that we got to dance.” She added stopping in front of Jungkook. He smiled and chuckled as she hugged him goodbye.

“Yes. Me too.”

The group exchanged a couple more words of goodbye before (Y/N) walked towards the sliding door. As she was about to close it behind herself she slipped her face mask down and smiled at the group once more.

“Hopefully that’s not the last I see of you.” She added and the boys erupted with negating statements and chuckles.

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mysterytickingegos · 4 years ago

Text

Leap of Faith

Pairing: Actor!Mark x Reader

Genre: Action, Humor

Trigger Warning: Heights, Deep Water

Word Count: 1,013

Summary: After yet another heist gone wrong, you have to choose between trusting Mark’s gut instinct, or visiting your friends at happy trails again.

Request from @heehoooo: Hope you don’t mind my Actor lovin ass poppin in here again but romance & she/her pronouns with the prompt 56 👀 I love your writing sm 🥺

Authors Note: Sorry for the long wait! I’m a little bit rusty, but I hope you like it. Thank you for sticking around <3

Want to Read More?

[Image Description: A gif of the actor from A Heist with Markiplier, standing outside of the museum in a beige suit, smiling and talking with his hands but seemingly frustrated as he speaks to the viewer. Captioned “I’m going back to base.” End Description.]

It was a miracle you got out of the museum unscathed. You’d think you’d want to take a break after that. Unfortunately, outside of academics, the box was virtually worthless once it was opened and Mark had to jump right into plan B to keep your new operation going. This time it was something a little more foolproof than a magic box in a haunted museum.

Or at least the small-town bank should’ve been foolproof.

“Go left!” You shouted, trying to find a way to escape on google maps at 80 miles an hour with no real destination in mind. “Mark, I said go left!”

“It’s too late now!”

“Turn around!”

He scoffed at you, keeping his foot firmly on the gas. “You hear those sirens too, right? I can’t. find another way.”

“It’s a dead end, there is no other way!” You snapped back, just before he was forced to hit the brakes where the guardrail turned in on itself. The sirens proceeded to get louder and louder along with your heart as it practically pumped out of your chest.

Mark was the first to get out of the car, running over to the railing and peering over. You’d barely gotten a leg out of the car yourself when he ran back and threw open the trunk to get the bag out of the back. “Let’s go, there’s still a way.”

Once you got the chance to peer over yourself, you shook your head. “Absolutely not, no way.”

"We'll be fine," He started, stepping over the rail onto the small bit of the cliff left looking over the water. "People do this all the time."

"Yeah, in the daylight, when they know how deep the water is!" You ignored the hand he held out, keeping a death grip on the metal in front of you.

"Look, it's not even that far down-" He glanced over your head at the lights in the distance that made it clear the police would be here any minute, and held his hand out again, this time more insistent. "I need you to trust me on this. We can make it."

For just a second there was a small voice in the back of your mind, not belonging to you but the ghost at the museum, but you quickly shook it away. Grabbing Mark's hand, you stepped over the rail yourself. "I swear if this kills me-"

"Oh, don't be dramatic." He said, adjusting the bag on his back. Before you could argue about the hypocrisy, he began to count down. “Three,”

The police would be driving down this street any second.

“Two″

You held onto his hand a little tighter.

“One.”

Taking in one last deep breath, you both jumped off the cliff hand in hand, plunging into the water.

The impact wasn’t pleasant, with ice cold water almost knocking the wind out of you and one of your arms smacking the water way too hard. You lost your grip on Mark’s hand and your clothes were weighing you down as you desperately tried to swim up. After what felt like a lifetime, you felt him grab onto your arm and pull you up. You gasped for air the moment you breached the surface, clinging onto him. “This ‘s so c-cold.”

“Shh.” Mark pointed up to the cliff, which was now glowing bright red and blue, then to the shore just yards away. “We have to swim under to get there, can you do it?”

You nodded, trying to collect yourself and still your shivering body just to make a point. Taking one more breath, you dipped back down into the darkness before the cops could shine their flashlights over you, staying still just long enough to let the light pass over you before you pushed forward. The circumstances made it feel more like moving through sludge than water, but your adrenaline kept you going until your hands dug into sand and you were able to wade onto the beach. Cringing once you were on land, you wiped the sand off on your pants. “Ugh, I’m not cut out for this.”

Mark on the other hand, was beaming. “I told you we could make it.”

“We haven’t made it yet,” You said, kicking off your shoes and tucking them under your arm. “C’mon.”

The two of you sprinted up the beach to the nearest street and kept on running until you found a ray of hope in a ‘for sale’‘ outside of a (thankfully) empty house. After getting in through a sliding door in the back, you used up the last of your energy keeping yourself from collapsing entirely, instead making it to the wall to lean back and toss your shoes away. After catching your breath, Mark was the first to speak up. “Now can I say I told you so?”

His teasing earned an exhausted sigh from you, but you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right, I never should’ve doubted you.” You both let out tired chuckles, and you pushed yourself off the wall and found your way into his arms, staying that way in a peaceful silence...

Until you felt something on your hand that wasn’t water.

You pulled back to try to see what it was in the moonlight coming through the window. “Oh my god, did you get hurt??”

“No? I feel fine.” He took your hand and held it up to see for himself what had you panicking. “What the...Oh- Oh no, no!” He took a step back and pulled the bag from the bank off his back, tearing it open and holding a stack of twenties up to the window.

And then another....and another.

If it wasn’t bad enough that every single bill was soaked, they all had a fun new dye job ranging from pink to blood red.

You stared at the tainted bag with wide eyes, hands tangled into your hair as the painful realization hit you. Mark slowly zipped up the bag, cleared his throat and looked at you with a sheepish smile. “So um...plan C?”

#actor!mark x reader #actor!mark x you #markiplier egos x reader #heistiplier x reader #markiplier x reader

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stxvercgersslut · 4 years ago

Text

Sexting With Chris

A/n: Oh this is gonna be fun! I’m already excited to have you guys read this. Have fun with the shower sex guys!

Warnings: Sexting! Lots of sexting! Fluff

Description: Chris just can’t keep his hands off of you even when he knows that you are gonna be late for work

Word count: 1298

Waking up to an empty bed was a regular occurrence what with Chris having early mornings filming his new Tv series Defending Jacob, yet it still didn’t get any easier. Especially today of all days since your mind had decided to send you into one of the steamiest wet dreams that you’d ever had in your short life.

It had felt so real and the moment you had woken up your heart had been racing and you could already feel the wetness in your panties getting worse by the moment. You were horny and that much was instantly certain from the moment you’d woken up. But to make matters worse, Chris wasn’t there to relieve you.

As it on que, your phone pinged signalling that you had a message on your phone. Groaning in discomfort from your aching pussy, you pushed yourself up out of bed. Fighting the need to just push your hand into your panties and fuck yourself as you did. Picking up your phone you practically squealed in delight. It was Chris.

Chris: Hey baby girl, sorry I had to leave so early. It was a 6am start. I would have woken you to say goodbye but I didn’t wanna disturb you. Hope you had a good dream 😏 love you xx

A shiver ran down your spine as you read the message over and over again. Making sure that you had read it entirely correct before finally beginning to message back.

You: Depends what you mean by nice dream. What did you hear? Love you too baby xx

You sent back already eager for his reply.

Chris: You were moaning my name so loud that I almost wanted to be late just to fuck you. Are you still wet baby girl?

Oh fuck he knew. Well there was no point in lying to him was there? After all if you had continued to lie then it would get you nowhere. Plus you desperately needed to cum.

You: How about I show you?

You typed back, fingers on your left hand beginning to skilfully dip underneath your panties to feel at your wetness. As predicted you were soaked, you really much have had a god damn amazing dream.

This time it only took Chris 5 seconds to answer, clearly eager.

Chris: Do I even need to answer that baby? Of course I wanna see that pussy of yours. I’m hard just thinking of how wet you are Xx

Oh now it was time for the dirty shit. With Chris just aching for you to send him nudes you just really didn’t have a choice. So why waste time? There was no point.

Reluctantly you pulled your fingers from your pussy, pushing your sleep shorts and panties down your legs before jumping up and going to the body length long mirror and sitting down. You weren’t just going to send him a photo. No way. You were gonna do one better.

Speedily you picked up your phone again, switching the camera to video before standing it up next to the bed and pressing record and speedily getting to work touching your aching pussy.

To start with you began to tease yourself, using your left hand to pull your shirt up and over your head so that you were completely naked, before beginning to tease and tug as your left nipple. All the while whilst your right hand ran up and down your thigh. But, it really didn’t take long before you were completely dripping and you just couldn’t wait any longer.

Putting the teasing to one side you let your thumb start rubbing greedy fast circles against your clit whilst two fingers slipped into your wet cunt instant you beginning to fuck yourself. Clearly you didn’t care about drawing it out. All you wanted was to get to that needed high.

“Fuck!” You screamed out as that knot in your stomach began to form, letting you know that you were close to reaching the release that you had been aching for ever since you had woken up.

After several more moment you finally came with a shout of Chris’s name leaving your lips. Cunt throbbing from the attention that it had just received.

Once you had finally came down from your high you grabbed your phone, turning the camera so that you could quickly blow him a kiss before ending the recording. If this didn’t get him going then you didn’t know what would.

Hitting Chris’s name in your messages you sent the video with the caption ‘missing you daddy, just had to cum thinking about you 😘’ before getting back onto the bed.

To your surprise Chris had seen the message straight away, almost as if he had been eagerly waiting for your message since the moment you’d offered to send him that ‘picture.’

Chris: oh fuck baby girl. That pussy really did need fucked didn’t she? What were you thinking about? Were you wishing that your little fingers were my thick fingers playing with that delicious cunt? Wish I could taste you right now.....fuck I’m so hard for you right now.

He sent back, attaching an imagine of his crotch. Of course he was sporting a hard on at this point, how could he not be? That in itself was enough to get you dripping again.

You: yes daddy. I wish my fingers were yours instead. Miss the feel of your fingers against pussy. I really need you now daddy. Please don’t be too long. I need you.

Chris: awe baby, that’s so sweet.😘 when I get home I’ll make sure you pound your pussy until she’s stuffed full of my cum. Do you want my mouth on her first baby? Want me to fuck her with my tongue?

With that you couldn’t resist touching yourself again. It really was hard not to let your fingers just work at your pussy instead of having to message Chris too. If he was there then it would be so much easier.

You: please daddy fuck me with your tongue. Need you so badly.

15 minuets had gone by before he finally saw your message. You’d tried to keep your greedy fingers away from your pussy but it hadn’t worked for long, especially since you needed that release. And by this point you had cum twice. Of course you hadn’t lasted long either of the 2 times but it wasn’t your fault. If anything it was his fault for being in your dream and fucking you so well.

However, what you weren’t expecting was for your ring tone to begin singing through the room, signalling that you had an incoming phone call. Unfortunately it was Chris.

With you right had still teasing your pussy for the 3rd time this morning you shakily picked up your phone with your left and swiped the keypad to answer the phone.

Almost instantly your breath picked up as soon you felt your stomach tightening. The knot in your stomach getting harder and harder to ignore as you continued to rub at your clit.

Chris stayed silent for several minuets until he heard you moan out his name, causing a wide grin to appear on his face. “Oh baby...you wanna cum?” He teased, causing you to jump at the sound of his voice. You’d pretty much forgotten that he had been on the phone for almost 6 minutes already.

“Yes please” you’ begged rubbing furiously at your cunt as you did.

Chris laughed bitterly at the sound of your desperate begs to cum. ‘Daddy’ mode had fully been activated now.

“Get those greedy fingers off of MY pussy pretty girl. You’re not cumming anymore without my cock being inside of you. And if you do then you’re gonna regret it” he threatened.

Tag list: @chuckbass-love @navybrat817 @stargazingfangirl18 @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @cevans-fics @harrysthiccthighss

#chris evans #chris evans cute #chris evans hot #daddy! chris evans #chris evans and dodger #his laugh though 🥺#chris evans sexy #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans characters #kinkmas

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jarofstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Fan Club

A/N: This story.... it’s very near and dear to our hearts. We have a total of 7 parts written, 80k words total. It is our take on the PR relationship trope, mixed with Harry gets with a fan trope. It’s full of angst, full of sweet moments and smutty moments alike. We LOVE these two, they are quite literally our children. It is a bit more personal for the reader in some aspects, we know we have all imagined what it would be like to be with Harry at some point, so this goes out to you. We made Y/N of Russian decent in this one, just to make things fun ( and because we wanted some representation for our Russian babes out there 🤧). All in all, we are extremely proud to present Fan Club to you, we hope you enjoy ✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, glimmers of fluff

word count: 11.2k

It was hard for Y/N to explain how she ended up in this situation. Fake Dating international popster, Harry Styles. To be honest, it was all a bit of a crazy story even for Y/N. She couldn’t believe it either. Y/N was a simple girl with simple taste. Her older sister, Katya, owned a bakery called ‘for goodness bakes’ that’s been open for about 5 years, Y/N has been working there alongside her. She spent most of her time at the bakery, having just graduated with a degree in business marketing. She liked doing things most 22 year old girls liked doing: fun makeup, nights in with wine and romcoms, and of course being a fan of Harry Styles.

Since she was 12 years old, she had been a fan of One direction and well... Harry was always her favorite. She initially fell for his preppy appearance, but ultimately fell for his charm and quirkiness once she fell deep into the fandom. And she did fall deep. She had a stan account on every social media platform, she bought merch and multiple copies of albums, and even wrote fanfiction on wattpad. To say she was a big fan was an understatement.

About a month ago, Harry’s team had reached out to her via the email of her bakery. They had seen the post that she made, a picture of herself with a kiwi tart with the caption, ‘it’s none of your business.... unless?’ and had asked if they could have a meeting with her at their headquarters. Obviously, Y/N agreed to this meeting, thinking that they might want her to cater an event or something. But no, they wanted her to be his ‘girlfriend’.

They had explained to her that they had been searching for the perfect candidate who was not only a fan, but was also just a regular everyday girl. They said they liked her aesthetic and felt like she would suit Harry well. Her background in business marketing meant that she would be good at knowing what to post and her being a fan meant her love for him would be believable. The fans and media would eat this story up! It took Y/N a moment to comprehend what they were asking her to do, but they started bringing up numbers and Y/N couldn’t say no. This would get her and her sister out of debt and could pay for so much new equipment at the bakery. This sum of money could change her life. Plus, she’d get to fake date her idol? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up. So she signed the contract.

That’s what landed her here, waiting patiently at the door of Harry’s secret London home where his manager Jeff said to meet the two of them to discuss the plan from here on out. Her heart was beating extremely quickly, wanting to keep things cool. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, she wanted him to like her and trust her.

Harry hadn't started off jaded. Granted, most didn’t. They had the sparkle and excitement. But Harry had lost it. Years and years in the industry, from when he was a teenager to present, it had ruined it for him. That excitement he had previously had been watered down immensely. A lot, actually. But he was mostly tired of the things that came with the job— not music itself.

Harry loved music. Making it, writing it, performing it. He loved his fans. But he hated what came with if. The people who constantly wanted things from him. Not a moment of privacy when he was out and about— though that had gotten better as his fans grew up, honestly. The media blowing up and twisting every bit of his words to fit their own wants. The fact that anyone he was seen with was a potential love interest in the eyes of the media. How they scared off and ruined good things for him because of it. He was tired of that. Every person who came to him made him wary. What was the motive? What was the reasoning behind them coming to talk to him? Fan or someone wanting a photo just for their Instagram? He wasn’t sure.

Relationships had been hard and for now, he’d basically sworn off of them. After the bad ending with Camille, he had decided to take a long break. Until the label said he should probably have a PR move, one unlike his previous ones. One involving dating someone posing as a fan. A regular person, without his level of fame. Someone relatable to fans. Or that’s what Jeff has said to him. At this point, Harry was used to being tugged around with his dating life so he agreed. Did he want to? No. But he was under contracts and he wasn’t going to fight something so stupid. It would be a few dates, hanging out. Right? He didn’t even have to talk much to her.

He was far too aware they probably offered her a good amount of money. Most likely why she was even there. So when he let Jeff open the door, he was annoyed with himself.

She was pretty. Fuck off. That’s how he felt. A lackluster wave was given to her, a nod as well as she sat down across from him at his oak dining table. Cute. Pretty hair, soft cheeks. Petal pink lips. If this wasn’t a stunt he would probably think she was a lot cuter, though.

A wave.

Years worth of build up for this moment and all Y/N had gotten was a wave? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Y/N offered him a smile, a shy but genuine one before looking over at Jeff. Obviously she had known who Jeff was, how could she forget the iconic ‘help me Jeffrey!’ Quote. The hundreds of photos of them together. It was surreal, but her shock surprisingly helped her stay calm.

“Alright! Harry, Y/N. Y/N, Harry.” Jeff smiled at her, knowing Harry wasn’t happy about being here. “So have you been properly briefed about what’s required? It’s a lot more than we would usually ask of a project like this, a while longer.” He said. Harry looked at him in question. What?

“Yes, they gave me a brief outline at the meeting I went to but nothing too specific. They said you’d go over that here.” Y/N answered, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. “Oh?” She asked, knowing she had signed a contract for a year. It was a long time but she assumed everyone was in it for that long. Y/N really didn’t know how PR relationships worked, she just assumed things about them through what she had seen on the internet and what all the stans were saying. She never really believed that people did things like this, but clearly, they did.

Y/N looked over at Harry once again, taking any spare moment she could to really take him in. He was just sitting there looking so fucking perfect. An angel in the flesh. This was the man who had sparked her sexual awakening, who had taught her to be a badass bitch and to be kind to everyone she met. She knew she wasn’t his type and that this wouldn’t really end up like a fan fic, but she couldn’t wait to at least become his friend.

“Wait— how long?” His voice was deep and rather cold, but he wasn’t aware it was longer than usual. Granted— his own fault. Jeff said to look over the contract and he had just signed. It had been so many years of reading contracts he was tired of it.

“A year. There’s a clause to extend it if need be, or shorten after 8 months.” Jeff shot him a look. “But that’s only one of the differences. I know you’re tired H, but get it together.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N here is the perfect girl next door. We found her to be perfect to do this with you. But it’ll be different because it’ll be a confirmed relationship. All other stunts, they’d been left to interpretation and never spoken about them. Blacklisted questions in interviews, etc. but we’re going with the narrative of you both being quite comfortable talking about it. Y/N won’t have to admit much considering she has her own life and job outside of this, but you’ll be talking about it in interviews. About this lovely girl who made you rethink how you went about relationships.” It was odd. A whole storyline for their relationships.

“We know how to work this. You’ll both first be photographed together downtown. Harry holding your hand, Y/N. And then we will plant things in each of your social media posts to hint at it. Seemingly innocent but, a tattoo of his in the background. Wearing a shirt he has recently worn. His journal. All of those things.” Jeff explained the beginning of it. “From there, you’ll be more open. Post photos or do those Instagram stories your bakery is good at, Y/N. Have his voice in the background. Be photographed out and about. Simple things, grocery shopping. Y/N will come to your small gig, Harry. Hang around with your mum, and wear one of your rings on a necklace.” He would buy one and wear it for a bit before giving it to her so there was proof it was his. “When we get into it... we’re thinking cute Instagram posts from both of you. Open. Affectionate. A bit of an acting job. You’ll both be good at it though. I am confident you both can handle it.” He wasn’t sure how nonchalant Harry was seeming, though. Y/N seemed uneasy with how out of it Harry seemed to be and he didn’t blame her.

“That’s quite a lot more than I bargained for.” Harry spoke again, sighing. “I suppose if it’s necessary for the numbers. I don’t know why I can't just do a meet and greet or something but. Okay.” He muttered.

Harry’s voice didn’t sound like the Harry Y/N knew. It was rather rough and not in the way she had grown to like it. It made her look away from him quickly, not wanting to piss him off. Maybe he was just having a bad day? She couldn’t really blame him. She was sure having all these fake relationships probably sucked. The tasks seemed fairly easy. Y/N knew that the team would be there to remind them about things and well, if she got to hang around Harry all the time, it really couldn’t be that bad. She really wanted to get to know Harry and hoped that he wanted to do the same. It would be more fun that way.

“You know why. Y/N is perfect. The fans will love her. She’s gorgeous, but has the girl next door stuff about her. Plus, she’s very nice. You’ve been lovely, Y/N.” Jeff turned to her, attempting to comfort her.

Y/N really needed to stop giving Harry the benefit of the doubt. He just kept proving her wrong. The tension between Harry and Jeff showed that Harry really wasn’t on board and it made Y/N feel strange. She thought that Harry had agreed to this and knew all the conditions, she didn’t think this was something that was sprung on him that he didn’t really get to think about. She smiled shyly again at Jeff’s compliment, looking back at Harry to try and read him.

“I’m sure it’s weird having some stranger come around to be your girlfriend and all, but it’s just as new for me if that makes you feel better.” Y/N really wanted him to like her. Like really wanted him to like her.

Harry wasn’t sure what she was playing at. What she wanted. If it was more money or fame or whatever. He wasn’t sure exactly why she was doing this either besides for money. Whoever wanted to do this for fun would be absolutely crazy.

“Thanks.” Harry nodded stiffly. Half of him didn’t like treating her coldly, but the bigger part was terrified of getting hurt. If she was using him for more money. Going to ask him to introduce her to someone else. No one ever liked him for him. They liked the things that came. The attention and money, luxury that was thrown at him. It was never for him or his love or jokes or interests.

Sure, people pretended to care but he knew far better than that. People didn’t care. They used him as a step stool to get what they wanted. Means to an end. Just like his last relationship that had really hurt him.

Okay so he didn’t like her. Cool. Y/N couldn’t say it didn’t hurt because it definitely did, but she couldn’t sit here and cry about it. Y/N had come to this meeting and signed a year long contract and there was no getting out of it. So she sucked it up, looking back at Jeff who had explained what he wanted them to do.

“So what we’ll do is have you both take photos of things today. Harry, you take a photo of your new guitar and have the flowers in the background. Y/N, you’ll take photos of the flowers and have just the bottom of the guitar on the counter.” It must be shocking for someone who wasn’t in the industry to see how this was so calculated.

“Would you want us to post them at different times then?” Y/N questioned, assuming hers would be uploaded first. If she posted it before Harry people would be more likely to connect the dots that the two of them were together. Well, that’s what Y/N would think as a fan. Being a fan and having a fan’s perspective would really help her in these situations because well, she knew what they wanted to hear and what they would think based on what she posted. Y/N felt like she could fully manipulate the fans to think whatever. It was quite simple really.

Y/N’s main account proved that she was a normal girl who also happened to be a Harry stan. She followed Harry on all the socials, but he probably would wait to follow her until they were public. That would make more sense. They needed to build up the story.

See. Harry wasn’t aware that she was a fan fan. There were plenty of people who went to his shows and shit for Instagram photos and videos. He didn’t even know her socials though so he didn’t check. It was maybe a little shitty of him to have a preconceived notion about her when she hadn’t barely talked to him, but he knew so many people who wanted to be in her position. Wanted to ‘date’ a celebrity until they found out that they have to travel with them and have to deal with fans and other people wanting your significant other.

“I’m thinking not too far apart. Take the photos today but... hm. You post first. And then Harry will later. It’ll have people looking later on when they see the flowers. Fans are so insightful and research thoroughly.” Jeff was sure she knew that though. She’s had a fan account. “I have to go take this call— Harry, why don’t you tell Y/N about the album?” He excused himself then, going out and into the other room.

No, no, Jeff, don’t leave. Y/N sighed to herself, nervous as all hell to be in a room with Harry alone when he had made it clear that he didn’t really want anything to do with her. But maybe they could talk about his album like Jeff suggested? Y/N loved his music, she often played it at her bakery. She was excited for the new album to drop and had genuine questions about it.

Harry felt a bit on the spot but he just shrugged. “S’almost done. Don’t have a title yet. Choosing the singles soon I think.”

“That’s exciting.” Y/N smiled, “would you say it’s within the same vein as self titled or did you go in a different direction?” She asked not wanting to sound like an interviewer but this was a genuine question. God this was so uncomfortable for her, she wanted to run away and cry. She never thought that her idol would make her feel so uncomfortable in his presence. She was in his home and he clearly didn’t want her there, clearly didn’t want to have a fake girlfriend, and he was letting her know that pretty obviously whether he knew it or not.

The thing is, Harry knew he was making her uncomfortable but he didn’t really know how to stop it either. It wasn’t like he wanted to be fake. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be left alone with his music and his fans. Not a pretend fan posing as his girlfriend. That wasn’t ideal. No, he would much rather have real conversations with fans that weren’t paid to sit in his house and pretend to be interested in his music. He knew that Jeff wanted him to play nice though, so he answered the question vaguely. As always.

“Different. A lot of different influences I guess. A lot of different things I wanted to make. It’s fun to do it.” God, Harry was being bland. But his fears drowned out the guilt he felt. Yeah, maybe it was harsh. He knew that. But he also knew that he would regret it if he didn’t. Who knew what this chick would spill to the press later on? What she would want from him! What else she would ask Jeff for.

“Well that’s good. I’m glad to hear it was fun.” Y/N nodded at his answer, feeling discouraged because he really didn’t seem like he was going to warm up to her no matter what she did. Y/N didn’t want to ask anything too specific in fear that he’d think she was a crappy fan, and well, she didn’t know how else to get him to warm up to her. These tricks usually worked on grumpy customers at the bakery.

She wanted the earth to swallow her up. She was so embarrassed. She was just sat there, praying that she could leave soon so she could lock herself in her room and cry. The worst part was, no one, literally no one, could know about this relationship being fake. There could be no loose ends.

“Again, I’m sorry about all this. Can’t imagine being in your position...” Y/N showed genuine empathy for him, attempting to get him on her good side one more time. Y/N wouldn’t give up on being kind, after all, he was the one that taught her that. It was just strange that he was acting this way towards someone he was going to be working closely with. Maybe this was just how he treated people professionally. He wasn’t mean, but he was cold. Y/N was still a fan at heart though and despite how he treated her she still would give her life for him. She loved him, cared for him, and would genuinely support him. It made her wonder if his whole nice guy persona was even real.

The hell? Why was she apologizing? Harry thought. She was the one getting paid for it. If he wasn’t in this position she wouldn’t be getting paid well. He wasn’t sure why this Y/N girl was trying to be so nice to him. No way in hell she could possibly imagine his annoyance. Perhaps she was a nice person or something, usually. But he was pretty positive she wasn’t rich and definitely did it for the money. It made him wary of being close to anyone when they were in this situation. Any time he had made friends with past stunts, they’d faked being truly wanting to hang out with him. Once it ended, they weren’t interested in hanging out when people couldn’t see them. It had hurt when he realized it was a pattern.

Jeff came back in with a smile, but not oblivious to her sad face. Harry would get chewed out after, for sure. “Alright! I need you both to exchange numbers so you can communicate about meeting up. It’ll be pretty frequently.”

Y/N looked at Jeff with a small smile, nodding her head before pulling her phone out and handing it to Harry. She had changed her lock screens to something a bit more ordinary. After all, she didn’t want Harry thinking she was creepy or anything. Hanging out with Harry is something that she should be excited about, but suddenly the idea of it kind of scared her. Being alone and struggling to make conversation because she was just that intimidated by him. It was making her rethink all the years that she had spent fangirling over him. He didn’t know she was a fan, maybe that’s why he treated her the way he did? If he knew would he be fake and all over it? She didn’t want to know.

“My days off from the bakery are Mondays and Wednesdays. But I know you probably have a set schedule so just let me know and I’ll work around it.” Y/N offered, genuinely wanting to show both Harry and Jeff that she was more than willing to cooperate. She wasn’t sure how she would get herself out of this one.

Harry sighed as he put his number in. God, he hoped she didn’t sell it. He didn’t want a new number. Someone had sold his number to fans before and it had sucked. As much as he adored his fans? He didn’t want them calling him every second. He was hesitant in handing her his phone. It was something he didn’t trust many people with but she tenderly took it and typed her own number in. Didn’t even try to snoop which was good— but then again, he was looking at the phone in her hand.

Y/N was gentle with Harry’s phone in her hand, typing in all of her information into the contact so he didn’t have to ask. Something told her he would be annoyed having to asking her for her address if need be. So she just put everything in there, her birthday, her email, her phone number and the bakery number, as well as her address.

“Monday’s and Wednesday’s work with him. He’s recording Thursday Friday and Sunday to give the voice a rest. Has some writing sessions he will take you to.” Jeff was annoyed as hell at Harry’s lack of kindness. He’d have to give him his own brand of talking to, but wasn’t sure if it would do much good. He was quite a stubborn person. An Aquarius at heart.

“That’s good. Yeah, I don’t know if you’re a morning person or if you like getting your sleep so um.. yeah just text me.” Y/N spoke kindly, still trying her hardest to be as accommodating as possible. To Y/N it wasn’t about the money, sure the money helped, but it was about giving Harry fans someone they could genuinely look up to. Y/N was a normal girl. She had normal sizes, normal tasks, normal likes as a human. She was a kind person. The fans would quickly find her information, quickly find out that she is a fan and would quickly see that Harry was finally dating someone that represented them. They had wanted someone like that for years, but too bad it was all fake.

Harry understood the context of it. He was going to date someone ‘normal’. Not in the world of the famous. Which in some cases, Harry wouldn’t mind. But there would be tons of things Y/N wouldn’t understand. What to be quiet about. Who to talk to and who not to. Privacy. Things she wouldn’t just... get. He had been in this life for 10 years now. It was his normal. And Y/N would have to learn it all and keep her mouth shut.

“I am. I get up at 6.” He usually did. He could sleep in but he wasn’t the type of thing he did often. What she didn’t know was he had an awful time sleeping and needed to take stuff to help him. His mind never stopped, was always going. There was a lot Y/N didn’t know about him. He would do his best to make sure she didn’t find out.

It was hard for Y/N, continuing to be kind, but to keep herself from crying. She felt so out of place and so unwelcome, god she hoped that he would warm up to him. Maybe this was a terrible idea? Too bad she was in it for the long haul now.

“Jeff, I have a question.” Y/N spoke up shyly, “obviously people don’t know anything about this yet, so there isn’t a microscope over my life just yet. I want to make sure I take all the precautions I can to keep my privacy to an extent, but also don’t violate Harry’s.” She genuinely was worried about that. She didn’t want to say too much or do the wrong things, she also didn’t want people finding out where she lived. Where she worked, sure, well... she probably would have to stop working at the bakery if things got too hectic. Y/N looked at Harry once again, a soft and gentle expression on her face. She wondered what it was about her that was making him act this way because this wasn’t the Harry she knew, not at all. All she wanted to do now is go home as quickly as possible and cry. She really wanted to take her posters down, really wanted to hide everything but frankly, everyone would question why she suddenly took things down. Y/N had to continue to keep her cool.

Jeff’s face softened. they’d lucked out with this one. Harry was an idiot when it came to things like this, put his blinders on— he knew well enough. But Y/N would help his career. Hell, maybe she could be his friend and help him come out of the funk he had been in with trusting people.

Harry didn’t let it show on his face, but he was impressed with what she said. It didn’t change much, but he had it on the back of his mind. No one else had to think of these things before because they’d just known, but the fact that she had asked was nice. Time would only tell if it was genuine, though.

“That’s a good question— I was actually about to ask about your social media. You’re going to need to change passwords. Verify everything twice. Take any potential tracking information away like the whole location finding on your phone so your friends can find you. Any social media accounts not reported to us originally in our first meeting would need to be shown. I suggest doing a deep clean and moving things out of it, as much as you can. Not enough to make you look like you did it on purpose. But... think of what you’d look for.” Jeff knew Y/N was a fan so she would have a similar brain.

“Okay yeah, I’ll need some help with that.” Y/N blushed, looking down at her hands. She had reported all her socials to them, yes, all of them. All her fan accounts and her main accounts. She wasn’t sure how to turn off all the tracking things or what to take down. She wasn’t problematic in any sense, so it wasn’t like she had any content she needed to delete. But it would probably be things like taking locations off of photos and turning off her location on snap map and for any of her friends that had her on there. She had actually done the latter this morning.

“Also, I really don’t intend on telling anyone about this unless you give me the go ahead. So please, if there is anything you need me to do, let me know?” Y/N really was trying to think of everything here. She wanted to make sure this was seamless because she knew the fans would be like hawks over another fan being Harry’s girlfriend, if they found out it was PR they’d be crushed. Their whole image of Harry would be ruined. They needed to make this as real as possible. Y/N had so many suggestions, so many insights on what it was like to be a fan. She definitely wanted to speak up about anything that could potentially ruin this because well, this was Harry’s career and they couldn’t be caught doing this.

“Perfect! You’re going to do well with this, Y/N.” Jeff had been the one to find her so technically, this was his finding. He hoped that she could get Harry to realize how weird he was being. Because ultimately? He was a nice guy. He loved his fans, his friends and his family. Strangers scared him. He didn’t know who to trust and that made him act strangely. His team knew it. He was always polite to people he worked around but when it came to people invading his personal life, getting close? He said, no ma’am. “I’m happy that you’re aware of how it works a little. It makes it a bit easier. Harry here has had a few almost disasters with these types of things.” Jeff smirked at him, making Harry grumble and blush a little bit. Fuck. That wasn’t something he liked talking about too much. “Anyways... Y/N, we need you to be yourself. That’s why you were chosen, yeah? Just continue on. Be less active on that other twitter account of yours for the moment.” He had a whole plan for that. “Don’t stop completely but... I’ll send you ideas of what to tweet. Keep it vague but that you’re excited.”

Harry didn’t know about the fan account. He would have, if he had read any paperwork, but right now he didn’t have a clue.

They wanted her to be herself, which shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She just had to be aware that Harry was in her life now, consistently. He was her ‘boyfriend’ now. That’s something Y/N never thought she’d say. But here she was.

“Okay, can do.” Y/N nodded, already knowing not to tweet as much on the fan account because well, she wouldn’t be doing that if she was hanging out with Harry. It would be hard for her not to tell anyone but she knew she had to do it. This was her duty as a fan to the fans, to make them feel represented and loved. “And what’s the story? Like how we met?” Y/N asked, feeling like that was important to know as well. She mostly asked for Harry’s sake because he clearly didn’t read the contract or the emails that had been sent around on the topic. This was an important first meeting, she assumed Harry wouldn’t want to hang out with her today but they probably would sometimes next week.

“Well, we wanted to leave that up to you. I had the idea of you both frequenting the same coffee shop— and before you both roll your eyes, I know it’s a fan fiction trope and I know that. But it’s believable considering Y/N doesn’t have any true connection that would be explainable to the music or entertainment industry.” Jeff explained. “If you have better ideas, Y/N, please feel free to tell me. However— we are trying to show this as you both fell for one another quite quickly. You both are very fond of one another and are around each other quite a lot.” He knew that Harry would be hard to deal with so he was definitely going to be offering Y/N some sort of bonus. “I think after the photos, we will have you both photographed leaving a dinner together next week. You’ll go with both myself and my girlfriend so it won’t be just throwing you two into the water.” Plus, he didn’t want her to be alone with Harry like that out in public without experiencing it first with him there. Jeff felt slightly protective of her, too. Like a little sister. “Also, I know you already said he’s but being clear— you’re okay with hand holding and physical touches in public with him, yeah? And for photos?”

Y/N laughed at the idea, “I mean that does work.” She said shrugging to herself. “But do we have anything to back that up? Have we ever been to the same coffee shop at the same time where someone who works there can confirm?” Y/N was really thinking about every detail here. “Jeff you’ve been to my bakery before haven’t you? Could just run with the fact that we became acquainted and you introduced us?” She felt like that was far more believable and paps wouldn’t have gotten photos of Jeff anyway so the story was contained between Harry’s team and her bakery. Her coworkers wouldn’t know who Jeff is, it was really fool proof. Also, did he say dinner next week? Wow, that was fast but she would be ready. “Where is dinner going to be? Just want to think about what I should wear.” Y/N blushed, wanting to make sure she looked nice for their first encounter together. Something very her but very consistent with something Harry would like on a girl. Y/N had been following Harry for ages, she knew what kind of outfit to wear based on what kind of restaurant it was. A casual dinner outfit for Harry was quite dressed up, so she’d probably end up doing a bold trouser, heeled boot, and plain blouse combo.

“Actually— that’s a good idea. I didn’t think about the staff thing. This was definitely done at the last minute so I’m not on my A game right this moment. Wonderful— lets do that.”

Harry didn’t know anything about her, he realized. She worked in a bakery? He did when he was younger. He wasn’t sure if she knew that or not but it did make him a tiny bit more interested in her. Why would she do this? There had to be a real reason. He was positive.

“Actually— Harry, go in there a few times this week. Make it somewhere people know you go. It’ll be believable that you found a new place and love it. And some of her coworkers will catch on, so on and so forth. I can call a tip, perhaps tomorrow? I know it’s starting early but we are on a schedule.” Jeff noted.

Harry was going to go to write tomorrow, but that obviously wasn’t about to happen. “I guess so. I can make time.” He had a pretty free day otherwise but it still annoyed him. However he was hoping there were good treats. Harry was a good actor when it came down to it. He hoped she could tell— didn’t want to thrust her about with his actions. In public was acting. All of it.

“And yes, about the touches and stuff. As long as it’s something Harry would actually do in public, yeah.” Y/N explained, knowing Harry was relatively private when he was in relationships. He didn’t do much PDA and she’d be okay with anything he was okay with. “Just um, let me know what’s okay.” It was a bit nerve—wracking, having to do all of this and make sure everything was sorted. Y/N knew a lot about Harry so she was positive that it wouldn’t be a problem, she’d only learn more. It was Harry that had to do a bit of learning about her. He would find out most things about her fairly quickly, she was an open book.

“What type of baked good do you like?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious. “I’ll have some for you come around, pack you a little box.” She blushed, expressing something to him that she had always wanted to do. She knew he was a baker back in the day, maybe they’d bond over it?

Her coworkers would be shocked that Harry would be there considering Y/N was a massive fan and they knew that. But that’s when Y/N would tell them about it all. “You want me to tell my staff what exactly?” She wondered, “that we are kinda sorta seeing each other? Or that we’re just seeing how things go?”

“Uh— I like lemon things. Ginger cookies. Scones.... anything really.” Harry said quietly. It wasn’t said as coldly as the last couple words had been. Maybe it was because of baked goods? Regardless.... he was hoping that said bakery was good. He was obviously going to pay for them.

“He also loves red velvet cupcakes.” Jeff piped up. “But I think that it’s a lovely idea, being familiar with what he likes... you’ve been so smart.” She really was. It was almost scary. Jeff approves immensely. Even Harry had to admit it was surprising to see her full of good ideas. “I think you should say you’ve been seeing one another. Not sure about where it will go but you really like him. Trust me— Harry here will be able to make them believe he’s very into you. His ability has made it so we’ve never been caught doing this thing. Not like that Camila and Shawn couple. They’re having leaks all over.” He winced. Their poor PR.

Y/N smiled and nodded at him, already having in mind what she would have ready for him when he came. She had an incredible lemon bar recipe and some other bits. Of course red velvet cupcakes. “Red Velvet are my favorite too. And carrot cake.” She commented, blushing once again. It’s true, Harry had been very good at all the PR relationships. She’d soon find out which ones were and which weren’t. She was determined to be the most coveted of them all though, the one that stuck out and actually stuck around hopefully. But she was positive that she’d fall for Harry’s act, hell, she’d fallen for him a long long time ago. “My staff is really tight knit, my sister runs most things actually. I trust they’ll keep things on the down low if I ask them to.” Y/N nodded, knowing that nothing would slip past her team unless instructed. She had a good feeling about all of this, they seemed to have most things under control. Y/N would help tie up loose ends that fans might think of and as long as they followed her lead, it would work.

“If you feel as though your sister can truly hold a secret, you can tell her. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t have someone to lean on.” Jeff said. He trusted her enough. Harry looked at him suspiciously.

“Wait— hold on. What about an NDA?” Harry asked hurriedly. “We can't have any bit of this shit going out.” He was scared. So scared of someone finding out and thinking he was some damn fraud.

“Harry— it’s fine. I’m sure she had enough sense to judge that a sister would tell or not. It’s up to her, anyways. Just remind her of the immense legal action that could take place if someone were to talk.” Jeff shrugged, knowing that Y/N really did know. “But we’ll have a tip called in about a bakery he’s been rumored to go to— no way that they’ll know if it’s true— and they’ll probably take shots through the window. We can escalate later during the week to him picking you up from work to bring you home. Something like that before the dinner.” He thought out loud. “Thoughts? Y/N?” Harry has been quiet. He didn’t like these things so he didn’t say much. Just let them plan whatever and wing with it later on. He was kind of shut down internally.

“I’ll think about it. But I’m still apprehensive to tell anyone. I wouldn’t want this getting out regardless... I wouldn’t want fans to lose trust in Harry just because I decided I wanted to tell my sister.” Y/N explained, knowing she’d probably tell Katya if it got too intense, but for now, she wasn’t saying anything. “Seems fine. I think once a week or maybe twice a week is more than enough. Don’t want to over kill either. Essentially, if he’s in the area he can pop by.” Y/N explained, thinking that was the best way to go about it. “I know you said we are on a schedule but you don’t want it to look unnatural either.” She said and sighed as she looked over at Harry.

He really didn’t seem to like this and she understood but she hoped that he would loosen up even a little bit. She wasn’t a terrible person, all he had to do was ask. Y/N was pretty much an open book. “Is there anything else?” Y/N asked, eager to get things done and maybe chat to Harry a bit if he was willing before going home.

“I don’t think so. We’re going to try and take it as it comes so we don’t overwhelm you.” Jeff was the main talker and Harry was kind of just sitting and watching. Trying to read her. Either she was a very good hiding person, or she was good. Either way, he didn’t trust her. Lots of people had seemed sweet and generous and fun when he had first met them only to turn out to absolutely wreck his fragile heart. He knew he was fragile that way and he had given people the benefit of the doubt one too many times. He didn’t trust his own radar anymore. The more Harry looked, the prettier Y/N got— which was infuriating. It pissed him off internally because she had the type of lips every man wanted wrapped around their cock, and beautiful legs he had seen when she walked in. He never took women for granted, would never disrespect them, but his initial reaction was arousal and that made it even worse with his trust issues. Her eyes were soft and doll like but had a sharpness to them that he was far too aware of. She was smart. Incredibly so. And she was curvier than he usually dated— or was seen with, actually, because he had a few one nighters with girls that was far bigger than Y/N and he had loved it. He liked her body. It was a perfect mix, he thought. And then got annoyed about even thinking about it. Damn it.

Y/N nodded, “Alright, thank you very much. I’ll um... I’ll take the picture of those flowers and I’ll get out of your hair.” She chuckled apologetically, sensing that Harry really just wanted this to end and she would give that to him. He made her so nervous, now more so because she was scared of making him angry with her. Harry had always been someone she didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Harry was so nice to everyone that it really made her upset that for some reason he had singled her out and not liked her. It was disappointing. But I guess people were right when they say, never meet your idols. In many ways, Harry was Y/N’s ideal man. She liked how driven he was, how multi talented he was, how charming he was, how he was unapologetically himself. Plus he was scientifically proven to be one of the most attractive men on this planet next to ryan gosling. It was a shame that a lot of the things she had thought about Harry originally would slowly crumble as she got to know him better. It hurt, but she’d keep that hurt to herself. Just because the illusion was ruined for her didn’t mean it was ruined for everyone.

Harry felt bad, because she seemed to be in a hurry to leave. It was what he was supposed to want, so why did it make him so uncomfortable? He hadn’t wanted for her to be upset. Just... to keep her distance. She had these baby eyes and soft cheeks that looked sad and he wanted to give her a reassuring smile but he was trying to remind himself that there was potential danger here. Most likely she was a wannabe actress. Testing it out on him. Made sense.

“Okay.” He nodded, standing up. When he did so, he realized he was quite a lot taller than her. Usually, he had models who matched his height. But she was smaller. Cute. He hadn’t experienced that before. Knocking that thought out of his head, he took the photo of his new coke bottle green acoustic, letting the flowers show in the back before he rested it back up against the counter. Y/N took her turn with her picture, taking a bit more time than Harry. Probably a better result too, and he wished he had patience at the moment.

A ping of sadness spread over her, she thought maybe he’d pretend to try and get to know her a bit but nope. All hope was lost then and Y/N went to take a photo of the flowers in a way that would fit her personal Instagram aesthetic. She usually posted shit like this so it wouldn’t be too out there. Once she was happy with the photo she had slipped her phone back into her pocket, looking at Harry and Jeff with a small smile.

“Well, um, thanks for having me.” Y/N started off, pulling on her jacket. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked Harry with a small tinge of hope. He had said he would visit her bakery but she was still worried he wouldn’t show up. She felt so small. Being who she is, she went in for a hug anyway. Both figuratively and physically, Harry had intimidated her and she was weary about every move around him at the minute. Maybe she’d get used to it. “It was nice to meet you, Harry.” Y/N gave him a genuine smile, feeling even more shy now that she was so close to him.

This would be torture.

Harry was a bit startled, but relented and hugged back. It was a bit weak, but he gently patted her back. God damn it. Why was she acting so sweet and nice and innocent? He would almost rather her be truthful about her wants of money and fame. It would be a lot more tolerable.

“You as well.” He pulled back, face neutral. Thank god he had gotten his hard on down a decent amount. Never would he live this down. He didn’t just get hard for no reason. That girl had bamboozled him and was trying to trick him and wouldn’t let it happen. When she left, Harry continued to stare at her back before the door shut. And then he was promptly slapped upside the head by Jeff.

“Ow! What was that for?” He hissed, rubbing the spot he had been smacked. Jeff Gave him an incredulous look, shaking his head.

“You idiot. You’re going to scare away someone who will ultimately help your career and relationship with your friends.” Jeff scolded. “That girl is nothing but sweet. She’s doing this for you, and you know why. She’s a kind person and you better not make her run on us early. Do you want the press to get wind of it? She could talk, if you really treat her poorly. Looked like a damn kicked puppy when you wouldn’t talk to her.” He got his dad face on, crossing his arms.

“You’re going to have to suck it up. Regardless if you actually like her or not, you’ve got to be decent to her. She’s stuck with you for a year.” Harry was irritated with that. Stuck with him? Although... maybe he was accurate with that.

Y/N tried her best to keep her tears at bay, putting on some music that would keep her energy up until she was in the comfort of her own home. She had been as discreet as possible leaving Harry’s secret London home. To the public, he lived somewhere in Hampstead which was actually closer to where Y/N lived in Camden.

After about an hour on public transportation, Y/N had finally made it back to her cozy flat. Tears immediately began to form as she unlocked the door, sniffling as she took off her coat and threw it to the ground with an absent mind. She ran to her room, storming to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper. She needed to be prepared. How could someone she looked up to so much been such a dick to her? She could understand he didn’t trust strangers, but he truly made her feel like she wasn’t even worth basic human respect. Y/N was trying to be as kind as possible to him despite him being such an asshole to her and even still, he gave her a weak hug and response. As if she was a chore. It made her feel sick to her stomach. So she cried for a while, showered, got cozy in bed and went to sleep. She had early mornings at the bakery seeing as everything was freshly baked. So she was up at 3:30 every morning to make sure she was ready for their opening at 7.

----

‘Hello. I am coming in at 9:30. H.’

Harry looked it over. It wasn’t too friendly but wasn’t too rude, right? He was overthinking. Y/N had made him think last night. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her too badly, because while he did see her sad eyes he thought he was making it up in his head to try and feel bad for her. Jeff has confirmed it and made that ugly feeling in his stomach crawl into his throat. He sat and thought about how to make it so they were at a distance, but she wasn’t too hurt. Every part of the scared side of him said to continue his actions, though. He wasn’t being mean. Right? ‘Wrong. You dick.’ The other side of him told him. Conflict was something he saw all too much of in his life. He knew too well about the issues at hand. But he had always taken it so he wasn’t sure how not to prepare for it.

Pulling up to a quaint little bakery, Harry smiled to himself. It was cute. A punny name. He liked it. Somewhere he definitely could see himself going randomly if he had seen it. Parking his car across the street, he sat for a moment and gathered himself. Now to prepare for being cute to her.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t smile at the text. She had always imagined getting a text from Harry and here she was getting a text from Harry. It wasn’t anything special, but it was to her despite how sad he had made her yesterday. She had dressed herself in a baby blue sweater and overalls, putting her hair up into a messy yet contained bun. All that crying yesterday made her eyes fairly puffy so she made sure to do some fresh, no makeup makeup look. She wanted to look cute if he was coming.

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” Katya asked, seeing Y/N’s giddy mood. They were currently baking everything they’d prepped yesterday, putting out all the freshly baked breads, bagels, cinnamon rolls, and donuts.

“Dunno, just... happy I guess.” Y/N smiled, saying it in a way that would raise questions. Perfect, get her thinking. Her excitement was genuine. He was going to come and see her and be sweet to her, it was like a whole new interaction between the two. Best part was, she could just play out everything she imagined in her head. It was a perfect set up. Jeff was so smart with getting a fan to do this.

“Hm. We’ll see. That looks like a boy smile.” Her sister really had no clue. Everyone knew she was a big fan, and would be absolutely floored when he came in.

Harry sighed against his steering wheel, he put on his big boy pants and decided to get a move on. Today, he wore a loose white button up with a few of the buttons undone, black trousers and red boots with ‘sucker’ on the back of them. He had been sent the whole collection and did quite like it. But his pea coat was unbuttoned, car keys stuffed into the coat pocket after locking the door. The little bells chimed as he walked in, and he took a look around. It was very cute. Instagram worthy, some would say. It smelled really good too, which was a plus.

The earlier morning rush had passed, kids now at school and parents now at work. The rest of the day really consisted of prepping more goods and serving whoever came in. Y/N really liked working at the bakery, it was her safe space to be creative and feel good. She liked to spread the message of kindness she had learned from Harry into her store everyday.

There were a few people in the bakery when he came in, sitting drinking coffee and doing work. They hadn’t really noticed who it was, and even if they knew they didn’t seem to care too much. Y/N popped her head from out the back and smiled widely when she saw him, walking over to the register so she was closer to him.

“Good Morning, how can I help you?” She asked in a teasing tone, that giddy grin still on her face. Y/N was going to let him take the lead, letting him choose how this interaction would go but of course Y/N was going to turn up the flirt factor so that anyone surrounding them could tell there was something going on between the two of them. “You look nice.” She hummed.

“Hello, love.” Harry felt a weird gushy feeling in his stomach when she had smiled so widely at him. Fuck. Y/N looked so pretty. Hair perfectly messy, lashes long and eyes wide and glittering. Her lips had a bit of gloss or something along those lines and he wondered if it was flavored for a moment. “You do as well. Like the color.” He did, and that wasn’t even a lie. He loved the color and how it complimented her skin and hair. Made her eyes pop out. “I would really love a cup of coffee... and a hug.”

Though she was surprised, the look didn’t stay long on her face. Instead, he was met with a gushy smile and a crinkle of her nose, “can do, yeah.” Y/N hummed as she rounded the corner to come give him a proper hug. Closing her eyes as she snuggled into his chest for that brief moment.

God. Harry was fucking himself over with this, and he didn’t even know why he suggested that but his heart twinged when she looked surprised for a moment, but beamed like a ray of sun before rounding the corner. Her apron was taken off and he decided to take the initiative and hug her. It was a friendly hug, held for a bit too long. Her body was warm, warming him from the cold he had felt outside. Her cheek pressed against his chest which had been bare since he had forgone a few buttons, and his mouth felt dry. He hadn’t had a decent hug in months by anyone but his mother. Pulling back, he brushed a tendril of hair away that had escaped.

“I came to see if you’d be so kind and give me some pastries.” Harry spoke quietly, making the moment look private— even though he had heard the choked gasp and the whispering going on behind them— her coworkers. It was sweet really, the two of them clearly excited to see each other, but also not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they were like that. It was perfect acting.

Well, she wasn’t acting. Y/N looked up at him with enamored eyes, the smile never leaving her face as he even spoke quietly to her.

“Of course, how many are you thinking?” She asked just as quietly, biting her lip a little as she hesitated to move back behind the counter to get his coffee going. “Black coffee yeah? For here or to go?” Y/N confirmed, knowing that he didn’t take cream or sugar in his coffee from being a fan. She’d just say Jeff told her.

Her coworkers were bewildered, Katya’s eyes nearly popping out of her socket as she watched the interaction unfold. Y/N giggled at them, shaking her head as she went to get a box for Harry’s goods.

“What would you like? Anything you’d like, on the house.” Y/N told him, standing behind the massive glass cases full of baked goods. “Lemon bars, red velvet cupcakes, and anything else?”

“Absolutely not on the house, I’ll be paying. Nice try though, pet.” Pet was a good nickname for her. She was a responsibility— but a cute one. Even if it burned his ass to think about her like that. But right now? Y/N was plenty cute— and she acted very, very well. Harry almost believed this true excitement. Thankfully, he found that he fed off of that energy from her acting. “You already know? Impressive.” Harry looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, the coffee black. Lemon bars, the cupcakes. Hm. Throw a few random cookies in there too. I’ll be going to write for a little while.” That was good to do, right! Throw in a daily activity. He felt his mind was off when he was around her. It went a little crooked, was the best way to say it. He got distracted and honestly? It was kind of infuriating. He supposed it wasn’t her fault, unless she was secretly a siren and singing a silent song. Or had a spell attracting him to her, even though he was fighting it hardcore.

“Hey.” Y/N pouted when he refused her offer, “let me do something for you.” She said firmly because she meant it. A few baked goods and some coffee cost her nothing in the long run, but she wanted to do something nice for Harry because all the fancy dinners and experiences about to come were something she’d never be able to repay him for. Y/N packed everything up in the box, even adding a cute little note that said ‘tell me which was your favourite — Y/N ❤️ xx’. She put it into a paper bag and set it on the counter next to the cup of coffee. She was actually quite excited for him to try them, she wanted his opinion and frankly she knew they were damn good.

“Long day ahead of you then?” Y/N asked, referencing him writing. She was genuinely asking because she cared, wishing that he was comfortable enough with her that she could come and give him a cuddle when he got home. What was she thinking? This isn’t real, he’s acting. And she’s meant to be acting as well.

It did strike him off that she didn’t take the money. Or the offer of paying. Usually people say that when they want it anyways and just expect you to insist, but she really didn’t seem to care about it. Which... was suspicious. While the bakery was very cute, it definitely wasn’t high end. He could tell they needed some new chairs and definitely some updated paint but he thought it added to the charm. Maybe they truly couldn’t afford it? He was curious as to what the hell she spent the money she was going to get on.

It was true that the bakery was a little bit worn, but with the money she’d be getting from this contract halfway through? They’d be able to afford closing for however long they needed to renovate. Y/N has even wanted to buy the space upstairs as well and host small acoustic gigs for local musicians.

“Uh.. I mean, a little bit. I’ll be writing a bit and then going to a very boring meeting.” It was the truth. God, how was he going to be able to focus? Harry was fighting a battle internally with how it was with her, trying to read things and find warning signs but it was hard. She was scary. Not in an outright way— but the way that. If this was real! If he had just walked in and met her at the coffee shop and didn’t think this was acting? He’d give her his number. She had an amazing charm around her that he was positive she had to know about— though acted as though she didn’t. “I hate to cut it short, pet. But I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?” He took hold of her smaller hand and squeezed it, before stuffing a hundred pounds into the tip jar. He turned around before she could protest, only turning when he got to the door to shoot her a wink. And as soon as he was out the door, he heaved a heavy breath. Christ. Why?

“Aw well, text me if you get too bored.” Y/N gave him a cheeky smile, leaning on the counter a little bit so she was closer to him. “Have a good day, pet.” She teased right back, smirking as he started to walk off. He really didn’t have to put a hundred pound note in there, that was flexing a bit, but it was very nice. It would go straight towards the bakery as it normally did.

3..2..1…

“What the actual fuck was that?” Her sister came storming over with wide eyes. “Y/N— that was... he's all over your walls. He has been on them for years and now he’s callin’ you pet?” She was shrieking but for good reason. Harry bloody Styles came in and hugged and flirted with her sister, they seemed to know each other well enough. It was incredibly shocking and Y/N hadn’t said a damn word to anyone. She used to stay up to watch his tv show appearances— hell, Katya was 99% sure she still did. But now? “You guys have each other’s numbers.... Y/N, you can't be for real.” Her eyes were wide as she looked at her blushing sister. Anyone would be just as freaked out. Harry was not only a celebrity, but she had seen the times she spent hundreds on tickets and had photos of him as her lock screen— which had mysteriously disappeared.

“Yeah, yeah he is.” Y/N giggled, blushing deeply as her sister looked at her in awe. Her sister knew first hand how much Y/N loved Harry. She had watched how Harry single handedly saved her from the darkest of times, how genuinely happy he made her. Hell, she even went to a show with her once just to see what all the fuss was about. Y/N wrapped her arms around her sister in a hug, squeezing her tightly because she really appreciated how excited she was. Her poor sister was convinced it was real and Y/N couldn’t break it to her. Couldn’t tell her Harry was actually really cold to her and not anything like that.

Truth is, Y/N had a really shitty love life. All her ‘boyfriends’ weren’t really boyfriends and Harry was sort of the one thing that kept her going. She just dreamed about what she wanted, dreamed about how Harry would treat her better in hope that one day maybe, she’d meet someone like him.

“His manager, Jeff. He comes here a lot you know... and he um, he introduced the two of us.” Y/N explained, being her shy and coy self. It was 100% believable.

----

Harry went to the writing session and found himself writing about her eyes. Bright eyes and lush thighs and every bit of silky hair he wanted to wrap around his hand. He had very dirty thoughts about this girl and it translated in to paper.

Harry had to go home and jerk off. And it was embarrassingly quick. He thought about how her sweater had dipped down and he’d seen the swell of her breasts, imagining taking her back behind that counter and fucking her sweet cherry mouth and watching his cum drip from her lips down to her tits. Knowing that in his fantasy world, she’d be walking around with his cum on her— and that was quickly done.

The guilt he felt after though? It was annoying. He was so cold to her but wanted to fuck her raw. So in that guilt, he went up to the kitchen and tasted a lemon square— nearly fucking moaned. It was so good. He knew it was part of the whole thing to go there, but he wouldn’t be complaining because if he got those every time? He would be set.

‘Lemon square is good. Thanks. H.’

It was dry but also a compliment, so he didn’t feel so bad for using her face in his dirty mind.

Y/N was about half way done with her day when she got that text from Harry, smiling a bit because he actually decided to text her. Sure she left a note, but he didn’t have to text. That was a private thing that they did after all.

‘glad you liked them 🍋’

She wondered why on earth she felt so fucking happy. He had just popped in for a brief interaction but it made her whole day fly by. Before she knew it she was closing down the store, locking up to head home. “You going to see your man tonight?” Katya asked curiously and Y/N blushed.

“No, unfortunately. But we’re going for dinner next week with his manager and his wife.” Y/N told her, knowing stuff like that she could tell her. “Might hang out tomorrow though cause it’s my day off, but he’s a busy man so I’m not sure yet.” Even hearing herself speak about Harry like this was so strange, but she’d get used to it for sure.

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

[part 2]

A/N: Harry :( why he have to be like that?? better hold on tight for this one - n+d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry writing #harry styles smut #harry styles #jarofstyles

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xfandomwritingsx · 4 years ago

Text

His Girl – Steve Rogers – Part 2

-gif source-

Description: You’ve always been Bucky’s girl. But Bucky’s not here anymore…

Warnings/Labels: Angst. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. A bit of a Dom!Steve. A pinch of sexting. Masturbation. Smut. Minor choking kink. Unprotected Sex.

Approx. Word Count: 8,500

A/N: 10 months later here I am! Jesus, this wasn't supposed to take this long. Sorry guys!

Part One

---

You’ve retreated to your apartment for the week, finding comfort in your cozy little place as your last assignment ended. You light a few of your favorite scented candles, fill the bath with water that is probably a little too hot, load it with bubble bath, and pour yourself your favorite drink in the fanciest glass you have. It’s a much needed and overdue relaxation. The hot water does wonders for the tension in your shoulders and the atmosphere you set puts you at peace.

You’ve been soaking for nearly twenty minutes when your phone pings annoyingly on the floor next to you. You toy with the idea of just flipping it off, but you still haven’t been able to shake that habit drilled into you that forces you to, at the very least, check your phone in case it’s an emergency.

Emergency, it is not, but seeing Steve’s name pop up in the little text notification bubble makes you smile with excitement. Texting is still not his favorite form of communication, but he partakes with you and you can never leave him without a response. You swipe to read his message.

Chicago’s settled for now. It’s funny how much it feels like “old times” around here.

Steve left for Chicago a couple of days ago. With most the city population dissolved into ash, criminal activity skyrocketed and two groups had been going the direction of starting war with each other. It was extremely reminiscent of the days of mobsters and mafia running cities which is what you assume he’s referring to. You type out a quick, light-hearted reply.

Think Al Capone would have survived the snap?

You let your arm hang over the edge of the tub, keeping your phone in your hand in anticipation of his next text. You have your drink in your other hand and take a sip from it. When your phone vibrates, you put the glass down onto the little floating drink holder bobbing in your lap.

Who knows. How’s your night going?

You type a couple of replies, deleting them all as they all seem too wordy, too much. He didn’t need to know your dinner was underwhelming or that the cheap dryer hadn’t dried your pajamas all the way. As you try again, you silently thank the creator of the PopSocket for all but completely removing your fear of dropping your phone in the tub.

Could be better. Finally relaxing now.

You don’t even close out of the text window or put your phone to sleep. You simply watch as the ellipses appear on your screen almost instantly as he types back to you.

What are you doing?

You chew on your lower lip, debating if you really want to act on the idea that runs through your head. You take a larger gulp of your drink before throwing away your hesitation. You sweep your arm over the surface of the water to gather all of the remaining bubbles to your chest in order to cover your breasts for the picture you snap a moment later.

Your damp hair is tied up at the back of your head in a mess of a bun, cheeks and collar pink from the heat, and no trace of makeup on your skin. You’ve also been soaking long enough that the bubbles have turned mostly to a thin foam on the surface of the water, barely concealing your body beneath it. The candle flames give a dark, suggestive aura to the photo and you can’t help but be pleased with how it turned out as you hit send with a brief caption.

What about you?

His reply is slower this time, the lack of ellipses making you wonder if he didn’t appreciate the photo as you hoped. When your phone turns black, changing into rest mode due to lack of activity, your heart starts beating a little faster and you start to worry it was a mistake. You have never exchanged pictures before, let alone one of you stark naked in a bath. It was pretty bold and despite what he’s implied about his feelings for you, maybe he didn’t like it.

When your phone lights up again, it notifies you that Steve has sent you a picture in return. You’re not really sure what you had expected, but this is not it. Before you can even convince yourself it’s going to be something completely innocent and bland, you’re already opening the message.

Steve is laying down on what is obviously a bed in a fairly fancy hotel room. One of the “perks” of The Snap; fancy things aren’t expensive anymore. He’s leaning partially on the headboard, propped up on big, fluffy white pillows. He’s got the smallest little smirk on his lips, his eyes on the camera lens and not the screen. One arm is thrown behind his head lazily, the other clearly raising his phone up as high as he can. And due to that little detail, you’re able to see clearly that he is not wearing a shirt. It’s accompanied by a short message.

Missing home… Missing you.

You breathe deeply and sink a little further into the water. You’ve seen Steve shirtless on a number of occasions, even touched his super-soldier-given perfect skin patching him up. This is different though. This is quiet and personal, intimate. This is a picture he snapped just for you to see and the angle he took it at, the effort put into making sure his phone was that high, it wasn’t by accident that his chest is on display.

You’re stuck for words, nothing coming to your blank mind, completely enthralled by his photo. You stare so long that your screen goes black again and you have to unlock your phone once more.

Wish I could have come with you.

After hitting send, you keep staring at that picture while wondering, hoping even, that he’s just as entranced by yours as you are his. You run your wet hand along your neck, the water still not cool enough to quench your flaming skin. You trail it down to your breastbone, palm resting at the very top of your breast.

You should have. Only had rooms with one bed available though. Consolidation and such.

You let your hand slide down and cup around your breast in full, giving it a small lift and squeeze. You clench your thighs together, trying to ease the steadily building excitement between them and type your reply.

Well now I really feel like I’m missing out.

Is he in sweatpants, you wonder. Shorts? Underwear? Nothing? That building desire is clearly not going anywhere. You finish the last of your drink in a hurry.

Bed’s small. Might have ended up on top of each other.

Well, hell. The man is going to drive you insane. Or cause you to spontaneously combust. The water doesn’t feel quite as warm as it did a few minutes ago. Your squeeze your legs together again and shift, jostling the water a little as you sink to a more comfortable position, hand resting on your lower stomach, daring and itching to sink down.

Good thing I like you on top of me.

God, what was it about texting that made you so bold? You try not to think about how mortified you’ll be tomorrow if this ends disastrously. His reply is just a little slower and you wonder if he’s trying to find a graceful way to abandon the conversation. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s readjusting himself, removing his pants or simply pushing them down far enough to get his dick out.

Oh yeah? Anything else in particular you like?

He’s giving you an out, letting you lead how far this conversation is going to go. You’re too far gone to stop though. Your legs open practically on their own and your hand glides through the water to cup your sex. The pressure of your palm on your clit and the image of Steve sprawled out on a hotel bed causing a small moan. It takes you a moment to gather yourself enough to respond.

I like when you pin me down, hands over head, and grind into me.

Your middle finger teases your entrance, easily remembering how it feels to have his large hands wrapped around your wrists, his hips on yours. So many times you wanted to just wrap your legs around him, lock your ankles at the lowest part of his back and keep him there.

Want to know what I like?

Your body is on edge, heart pounding at your chest. You can only manage to type out a single word.

Yes.

Your eyes drift shut, letting your finger run up and down your lips through the water. Your mind is filled with images of Steve, so many you can barely keep them straight. You want so badly to see him, to know if he’s as worked up as you are. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the minute tick by, or that he’s typing back the whole time.

I like when you follow orders and when you try to be subtle when you stare. I like thinking about you on your knees. I like the way your whole body shuddered when I suggested you call me Daddy. I like that I can practically hear you moan my name when I pin you to a wall. I also like when you cook breakfast in those little blue shorts of yours. Think you could manage that for me the morning after? That’s assuming my babygirl can still move after a night with me.

Your mind is a melted mess as you read it. Your entire body feels like a tight coil with lust and your hips grind up into your palm as you slip your middle finger inside of you. You moan louder this time, images of the two of you bombarding your mind. Your thumb numbly types out a pleading text you pray isn’t pathetic in comparison.

Send me another picture. Please.

Waiting for his reply isn’t difficult. It comes quickly, but even if it didn’t, his previous text is enough to keep you running and satisfied for the whole night. Perhaps even longer.

Since you asked so nicely.

The words come through a few seconds before the picture. The room he’s in is dimly lit, but the photo itself is still clear enough for you to see what he’s showing you. He’d brought the camera up to his chest, taking a picture looking down his body. The thin, white hotel bedsheet is laid loosely on top of him, the edge of it lightly tickling his waist. The bulge tenting it up between his legs is obvious, but just in case it wasn’t, his hand is there; thumb pressing into the base of his cock, large hand at the juncture of his thigh, the rest of his fingers likely cradling his balls out of view.

You want so badly to peel that sheet away from him and see what’s underneath. You tap your thumb on the screen occasionally just to make sure your phone doesn’t turn black and take that image from your eyes. Your body is thrumming, your skin practically vibrating on you as your finger slides in and out of you, indulging in some of pleasure you’ve been trying to deny yourself for years.

Another text comes through from him.

Was that too far?

You realize now that you’ve failed to respond for a few minutes. He just sent you what you’re qualifying as a dick pic and he’d been met with silence. Instead of being worried you weren’t impressed by it, that old, gentlemanly Captain America peaks out and is worried he’d taken your little game too far. The four little words crack through the lust and give your heart the slightest pang. You type back quickly, eager to ease his concerns.

No! You’re good. I was just… admiring the view.

Good. I was worried maybe you had second thoughts.

The pleasure in you threatens to turn. When were you not having second thoughts about it all? But no! Not tonight. You refuse to let it sour everything. It’s been years. Years. You deserve some amount of pleasure, of release.

My only thoughts right now are about what’s under that sheet.

His response is quick.

Some things are better seen in person.

Your breath catches and your finger starts to move a little faster inside of you.

Is that an offer?

Absolutely.

You know he believes there’s a good chance this conversation will never see the light of day, that it will be some dirty little secret kept hidden away. You don’t want that though. The very idea of jumping into his arms and kissing him when you see him next has you squirming.

What are you going to do when I actually take you up on that offer?

You push the heel of your palm into your clit a little harder and grind your hips. You’ve moved your hand and phone outside the tub, no longer trusting yourself not to fumble it.

Maybe one day you’ll find out.

You moan, hoping with everything you have that Steve has his dick in his hand and is as much of a mess as you are.

Get your ass back home Cap.

You can almost hear his chuckle in your ear.

So needy babygirl.

You can feel your pleasure building, everything in you tense and wound up. You withdraw your finger so that you can make circles on your clit and try to bring yourself over the edge. Your thumb shakes as you type out a short response.

Need you.

Say the word and you have me.

He follows up almost instantly with another text.

In person though. Not now, not like this. Call me old school.

You ease the pressure off your clit enough for you to focus on typing on a coherent reply to him.

Then you might want to tell me goodnight or I’m going to take this too far.

You don’t actually want him to do it. You want to take it too far, to take that leap of faith and get a taste of what you’ve been craving, but you know you can’t right now. He doesn’t want some quick, technological affair that can be literally erased at any point and quite frankly, neither do you.

Goodnight, babygirl. Be home soon.

I can’t wait. Goodnight, Steve.

And with that, you drop your phone onto the bathroom tile and sink your hand into the water, fully succumbing to your own pleasure.

When the sunlight streams in the next morning, you’re expecting the guilt to come with it. It always does after a night thinking about Steve. It’s a crushing weight that sits right in your stomach and pulls down on your throat. It’s familiar by now, but no less unsettling.

You lie in bed, waiting for it to hit you, but the only thing you feel is a slight fear. You feel a tensing and a pressure, afraid that when you look at your phone, there will be a text from Steve that retracts everything. Sorry about last night. or We shouldn’t have said those things. Let’s forget it happened. Something like that.

The fear is an unwelcome intruder amongst your feelings. Self-hate and guilt you can handle, have handled for a long time, but fear is not something you want to deal with. So, you bite the bullet and roll over to snatch your phone off the night stand.

One unread text from Steve Rogers sent thirteen minutes ago.

You open your phone before you can convince yourself not to, before the fear sinks teeth into you and forces you to leave his message unread all day long.

Morning beautiful. Had a complication this morning and I am headed to a place with little cell service. I’ll also be home a little later than planned. Only a day or so I hope.

The fear lifts off of you and is replaced with a light, floaty feeling. While you’re disappointed that he won’t be coming back on time, the relief you have is much stronger. Maybe, just maybe this won’t end in disaster after all.

Steve ends up being home a week later than originally planned and you haven’t talked to him much during that time. When you did speak, it was professionally about his mission or another issue. Cell service around the county is much spottier than it was before The Snap which can make communication in certain areas more difficult.

You’re working out at The Haven when he returns. You’ve worked up a slight sweat and are pummeling a punching bag when he finds you. You don’t notice him at first since the doorway is behind you and he takes the moment to silently watch you.

“You shouldn’t let your form get sloppy,” he calls once you finish a sequence. The sound of his voice brings a smile to your face, but his words cause you to huff and roll your eyes before turning around.

“It’s just practice,” you chide, wiping your wrist over your brow. He’s leaning against the doorway casually, a duffel bag at his feet. He hadn’t even stopped at home first.

“Practice for the real thing. You lose it in practice, you’ll lose it in a fight.” You give him a sarcastic look to display your disbelief at his critique. It doesn’t faze him. “Fix your stance next time.”

“Yes, sir,” you mock as you begin to unwrap your hands and try to bite back your smile. It’s impossible though once his stoic mentor face breaks and his own smile appears on his lips. “How was your trip?” you ask, leaning down a bit to grab your water bottle. He sighs and considers his answer briefly.

“Long,” he says. “Long and annoying, but successful.” There’s a moment where your eyes connect with his and the air in the room gets heavy. “Glad to be home.” There’s a meaning beneath his words that reads loud and clear, but you force yourself to swallow it down. If you didn’t, you may just end up leaping into his arms right here in the gym.

“Glad to have you home, Cap.” You say it as jovially, as platonically as you can muster, which isn’t much. There’s still a little look in his eye, a deepness in the air, and you’ll be damned if you can’t break your gaze with him. You bring the bottle up and gulp down water, the tilt of the bottle forcing a disconnect in your eye contact.

“Nat has a conference call in twenty,” he says, voice slipping back into work mode. “Are you going?” You finish the rest of the water and breathe deeply.

“I probably should.” He reads the translation easily; you hadn’t intended on going.

“I’ve got to give a status report on my trip.” Translation; he has to go. “I’ll save you a seat.” You give him a short nod as he grabs his duffle bag and moves to exit. It’s not like you could ever say no to him anyways.

True to his word and unsurprising to you, Steve had in fact kept the seat next to him open. The only people in physically in the room are Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, and yourself so it could be simple coincidence that the chair is open, but you suspect it was more strategic than that. In your usual fashion, you’ve arrived just moments before the holographic conference call opens over the table, spilling a flickering blue light from overhead. Light particles float around like miniscule puzzle pieces before coming together to form the shapes of your friends, recreating them standing onto the large table.

You slip into your seat as Natasha greets everyone and Steve gives you a small smile that you return easily despite the way your heart is starting to hammer in your chest. It’s an odd feeling trying to be the same kind of friendly you’ve always been with him when you’ve both admitted attraction, when you’ve both exchanged racy photos. You scold yourself silently as your mind drifts back to the photo of him which you’d saved onto your phone. Now is not the time to let those thoughts wander freely.

Rocket calls your name and your attention snaps to the raccoon.

“We can’t see you. Scoot in next to Steve more.” There’s a humor in his voice that makes you fully believe he can see you just fine, but no one corrects him and they all wait for you. Natasha is biting the inside of her cheek and purposefully looking down at papers she is most certainly not reading. With a heavy breath, you scoot your chair closer to Steve’s side. “Little bit more,” Rocket teases and again, no one swoops in to say you’re in view yet. You bite your tongue and scoot ever closer, the armrests of the chairs nearly touching. “Just a little more.”

“If I move anymore, I’ll be in his damn lap,” you snap at him, annoyed by this play. He smiles and shrugs and is about to open his mouth when Natasha finally cuts in and starts the meeting. If that raccoon ever comes to Earth, you’re going to strangle him and ruin every betting pool he’s ever run.

Steve is nothing but professional as he gives his report. You hear the business in his voice, but fail to retain what he’s actually saying, all of your attention focused on the way his lips move and the way his tongue occasionally licks them. It’s not obvious, right? It’s common for people to watch someone’s mouth when they speak.

What might be more obvious is when your eyes finally drift from his mouth and travel down his neck. The muscle and tendons tighten just under the thin skin of his throat as he talks, especially when he’s annoyed with whatever he’s talking about. Your eyes keep slipping down. Down to the biceps left mostly uncovered by his short sleeve shirt. Down the veins in his forearms. Down to his hips and his thighs, to the seam of his jeans between his legs that you can only see because of your close proximity.

He’s stopped talking you realize. You’re not sure exactly when he did that, but you quickly snap your eyes back up to his face. You hope to seem casual about it and perhaps no one would have noticed your little daze you slipped into. The subtle smirk on Steve’s face makes it clear he’s caught you though.

You duck your chin and clear your throat as if that’s going to stop the embarrassed heat from spreading up your neck to your face. You refocus your attention on your holographic teammates, try to murder Rocket with your eyes, but you can feel Steve continuing to watch you. It’s nearly impossible to hear what the team is bickering about with the heat in your face spreading up to your ears and your mind entirely unable to keep a straight train of thought.

You cast your glance his way, knowing you won’t be able to concentrate until you get him to stop staring. The smirk remains on his lips and his eyes lock with yours, full of amusement and intrigue and something a little darker, a little heavier behind his irises. A nervous and unconscious lick of your lips guides his eyes down and his mouth parts slightly.

Then he’s turning his head to look at your teammates and speak to them as though he’s been fully involved in whatever conversation they’ve been having. The man could multitask when he wanted to. You’ll give him that.

“If they’re having trouble with their crops,” he says, all too cheerfully. “I know someone who can help.” He reaches over the very short distance between you and him to pat your thigh. “Our resident gardener here can probably lend a few tips.” It takes every ounce of you not to choke on your tongue and to respond in an acceptable fashion.

“Yeah,” you say with minimal stumbling and another clearing of your throat. “Give them my contact info if they don’t have it.” You’re impressed with how steady you manage to make it sound and just hope they hadn’t been talking about someone you knew very well because if they were, your response would sound silly. Thankfully, there’s no odd looks or questions and the conversation continues on without you. Which is very good. Because your heart is starting to catch in your ribcage as you notice that Steve hasn’t removed his hand from your thigh.

He’s not doing anything, just resting his hand there, fingers close to your knee, thumb grazing the outside of your leg. His hand is large and you can feel the warmth of his palm sink through the fabric of your leggings. You should have changed after your workout. Jeans wouldn’t have allowed him to feel so close to your skin.

He’s not looking at you anymore, his eyes following the conversation professionally and staying a silent participant in the meeting. You try to do the same, but your eyes never seem to focus on anyone, instead staring off into blank space. If anyone notices, they don’t say anything and even if they had, you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t hear them through the blood rushing in your ears.

Steve moves his hand and years of stealth training falls out the window as you flinch at the movement. Not only that, but you flinch towards the motion, going so far as to reach your hand out to his and while that gesture could be construed as something negative, your body had zero intentions of pushing him away, wanting rather to pull him closer. Thankfully, you manage to stop yourself from actually getting to him.

His hand turns and he brushes his knuckles along the outside of your thigh, slowly gliding up and then back down. The shiver that shoots up your spine doesn’t quench the heat still steadily building up from your core. His touch is gentle and tentative, waiting of any sign of possible rejection from you. None comes of course. You’re so far past rejecting him. In fact, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t let him feel you up right here mid-conference.

And just like that, you’re imagining his knuckles sliding all the way up your thigh to the juncture of your hip. He’d flatten his palm against the very top of your thigh again and twist his hand down so his fingers can gently tease you through your leggings.

Biting your lip, you push those thoughts from your mind. His knuckles are still slowly stroking your thigh. You’ve stopped trying to focus on the meeting and sink a little more fully into your chair. Taking a deep breath, you take his hand in yours, taking a little bit of pride in the way he suddenly stills in surprise. It lasts for only a moment before his fingers wrap around yours and you’re left holding each other’s hands on your thigh.

“Anyone else have anything else they want to bring up?” Natasha’s voice breaks through to you and pulls Steve’s attention.

“I think we’re all good,” he says confidently, pretty much ending any conversation from continuing. There’s a gentle squeeze on your hand and it’s so soft that your breath gets caught in your chest. The way he slips from making dirty smirks to delicate touch amazes you.

Before you know it, the holograms have disintegrated and Natasha is all but escorting Rhodey out of the room, leaving you alone with Steve, still holding your hand. He leans back into his chair, fully relaxing and smiles at you.

“I still owe you ice cream,” he says, giving your hand another small squeeze.

“That… is true.” The awkwardness of your reply makes you both let out breathy laughs. You’d never been awkward before and in recognizing it, it breaks some of the strange tension in your body. This is still Steve. Nerves and excitement were bound to happen, but awkwardness just feels silly. “You offering to make it up to me?” That sounded better.

“I don’t have any plans tonight.” He says it as an offer and instantly your mind starts going over your apartment. Is your laundry done? How clean is it? Do you have food in the fridge? Beer? When did you shave your legs last? He can see the questions rolling around in your head, watches the wheels turn behind your eyes. “I’m actually pretty free all week,” he amends, giving you an out.

“Tonight would be great.” You think maybe you say it too quickly, but he just smiles at you warmly. He stands, taking your hand up with him for a moment. Then he bends and brings your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles softly.

“I’ll see you tonight.” There’s a flutter in your stomach and you hold your breath for longer than you realize, only letting it out after your hand has fallen from his and he’s sending you a wink over his shoulder before he walks out of the door.

You spend the rest of your day cleaning your apartment. It’s not a disaster and it’s not like Steve hasn’t seen it a mess before, but tonight is different. You can feel it in everything from the way your hands shake to how you push the cheap beer to the back of the fridge. You also pull a dress from the back of your closet and hold it against yourself for far too long before deciding that would just be too much. You don’t have to try so hard, not with Steve.

You’ve managed to calm your nerves enough that by the time he knocks on the door, your hands aren’t shaking. When you swing the door open, he holds up a plastic grocery bag with at least five pints of ice cream inside and flashes you a smile. It’s such a genuine, unapologetically bright smile that it makes you feel like you had been missing it somehow. The corners of your mouth pull back in a reflective smile that threatens to make your cheeks hurt.

“Think this will be enough?” he jokes, motioning to the bag.

“I don’t know,” you tease back, tilting your head to examine it. “I mean, I’m clearly going to eat all of that myself so what are you going to eat?” You can tell by the way he hesitates and bites the inside of his cheek that he’s pushing down a dirty response. “Come on in,” you say, stepping aside and saving him from the internal debate of voicing his thoughts.

You had been concerned all day about how the evening would go. Were you supposed to just jump right into his arms when he walked in? Did he want to talk about this first? Would anything even actually happen tonight? More than anything, you expected awkwardness; small laughs and bites of your lip and both of you trying not to make eye contact.

And yet... that awkwardness never comes. As soon as Steve is in your door, things feel fairly normal between you two. If anything, there’s just an added energy to the air, a weight to your flirtations.

As you both unload the bag onto your kitchen table, Steve acts as though he’s forgotten your favorite flavor of ice cream. He does it every year and tonight, he has it behind his back. You can’t see it, but the way his arm is twisted behind him and how he's slowly putting himself closer to the kitchen wall, you can tell that’s where it is when you notice it’s not on the table and the bag is empty.

“You know... It was on the top shelf and I meant to get an employee to help me, but by the time I got finished, I completely forgot.” He spins the ridiculous story terribly, unable to stop the amused smile that breaks out on his face. You advance on him, nodding along and pursing your face. “Real sorry about that.” He’s got his back as close to the wall as he can with the pint of ice cream behind him and it only takes a moment for you to get close.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Then what’s behind your back?”

“Oh that?” he feigns innocently. “Nothing you’d be interested in, I’m sure.”

You hum again and find yourself nearly pressed against his front, mere inches between your chests. Slowly, you reach around him with one hand. His body larger and arms longer than you, force you to lean in to reach. Pressing against him, you almost feel his breath hitch in his chest. Your eyes flicker away from his and you can feel the chill of the ice cream as your fingers get close.

You don’t see his eyes darken and when he grabs your wrist, shifting the pint to one hand and using the other to pull yours away, it startles you. It gives him enough leverage to spin you around and push you to the wall, lifting your hand above your head and pinning your wrist there. You gasp softly and look up at him with parted lips. Steve smiles down at you and leans in stopping just short of pressing himself into you.

And then in a moment, he’s gone, leaving you with your hand still over your head while your mind catches up. He puts the pint down with the rest and goes to get spoons from your drawer. Your body tingling and craving more, you can tell tonight will be interesting.

It became clear pretty quickly that there would be no jumping right into each other’s arms and there would be no talking about it. Instead, you shot each other charged looks and flirtatious innuendos and got physically into each other’s space as much as possible. It left you wanting more, wishing desperately, without a shadow of guilt, that Steve would just throw you up against any surface he could find. And then you realized he wasn’t going to. Even this hardened, dirty New Steve was a gentleman and he was very clearly waiting for you to make the first move.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table when you finally crack. The table is small and round. The chairs aren’t directly across from each other, but rather next to each other and you’ve each turned them to face one another, the table more on your sides than in front of you now. It makes it easy for Steve to lean forward towards you.

“You’re a mess,” he says, reaching to swipe his thumb along the corner of your mouth and scoop away some of the melted ice cream on your face. You react before you can even think about it.

You turn your face and capture his thumb between your lips. You both pause, the gesture unexpected. The weight of his thumb resting on your tongue spurs something inside of you and as you watch Steve’s eyes glaze over, turning from surprise to lust, you run your tongue over him and suck lightly. Steve leans his body in and his fingers cradle your jaw, encouraging you.

He watches you closely, coming to the edge of his seat and tilting your jaw upwards just a little bit. It’s a firm gesture, one that shows you that even though he’s letting you lead, he’s still in charge and damn if that doesn’t make you suck a little harder on his thumb to please him. You squeeze your knees together as he pushes his thumb further into your mouth. The sweetness of the ice cream is well gone, replaced by the slight salt of his skin and you only wish there was more to take from him.

He drags his thumb back out, letting it drag your lower lip down as you release it. Your breath is heavy and you can feel a wetness between your legs already starting. You want to glance down between Steve’s legs, to see if he’s got a similar problem, but he holds your eyes so firmly you have no choice but to focus on his face.

“That was a good girl,” he praises. He makes you want to just drop onto your knees right there, but he’s coming forward instead. Pushing off his chair and slipping that hand back along your jaw to your neck, he pulls you up with him until you’re standing in front of him. Your hands come to his waist, just to have something to steady yourself with. He grabs the base of your skull and tilts your head up to look at him. “You have to say it,” he tells you, voice a lot softer than his eyes. His other hand brushes through your hair. “You have to tell me you want it.” You swallow thickly before whispering back to him.

“I want you, Steve.”

His mouth crashes down to yours. There’s no softness or hesitancy. The kiss is rough, rushed, and hot. Steve pulls you flush against him, one hand still holding the back of your neck and the other running down your back. Now having your permission, he takes what he wants. He opens your mouth under his and pushes his tongue inside. There’s no fight for dominance. You’re entirely compliant and willing under him. He turns you sharply, pulling his mouth from yours for a moment and bending you back so that he can sweep the table clean. Pints of ice cream, spoons, your mail, everything clatters to the floor.

“A mess for you to bend over and clear later,” he tells you hoarsely. Any thought of being irritated at the melted ice cream on your floor vanishes. He moves his hands to your waist, but doesn’t lift you up like you expect. Instead, his fingers dip into the waistband of both your pants and underwear. “We’ve moved slowly for too long,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” you breathe out. No sooner than he heard the word did he drop away from you, down to his knees, and drag your clothes down to your ankles. You let out a low moan, your weight shifting back and leaning into your table. “Steve...”

He wastes no time. Asks no more questions. He slips off your shoes quickly and once he’s rid you of your pants entirely, he grabs behind one of your knees and hikes your leg up and open, giving him full access to your hot, wet pussy. He doesn’t even give you the chance to beg him. He comes forward and licks only a single stripe up your lips before delving his tongue deeper.

Your body tries to gasp and moan at the same time and instead a strangled sound barely rises from your throat. Your body tenses and you throw one hand into his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more. He places your leg over his shoulder and tilts his chin up to take your clit between his lips and suck. Somewhere in the back recesses of your mind, you wonder where in the world Captain America learned to eat pussy like this, but then his tongue is working again and your mind blanks.

“Fuck,” you whisper harshly, followed by a moan. The hand not tangled in his hair grips the edge of the table, trying to keep your balance. He gives another hard suck on your clit and pulls away just slightly.

“You taste so good, babygirl.” He leans forward and licks at you one last time. “But I’m an impatient man.” He carefully removes your leg from your shoulder, a hand on your hip to make sure you get both feet on the ground and balanced before he stands back up. He starts unbuckling his belt and your dry mouth waters. You push off the table, start to sink to your knees when he stops you, hand on your chin, and keeps you standing. “So eager,” he coos, still using his other hand to undo his pants. “I like that.” He brings your mouth to his and kisses you deeply, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. “But if you put that pretty mouth anywhere near my dick, I’m going to cum,” he admits harshly. The brashness in his voice sends electricity down your spine. The very idea of Steve’s cock in your mouth, cumming down your throat with his hands in your hair makes you quiver. You reach out, fingertips tickling at the open waistband of his pants.

“Please?” you ask, as sweet as your voice will manage. You swallow and steel yourself to be brave. You’re already naked from the waist down. Steve’s face is glistening with your juices. Now isn’t the time to be shy. “Please, daddy?” The hand at your jaw slips down around your neck ever so gently as he chuckles.

“Don’t tempt me,” he warns, unable to resist pressing another kiss to your mouth. “I'll use that pretty throat another day,” he promises, giving just a whisper of a squeeze around the column of your neck before removing his hand and continuing to free himself from his pants. “Turn around,” he tells you. “Bend over the table.” You listen to his commands without question.

Before, you’d always thought Steve would be vanilla; straight up missionary in bed with the lights off kind of a guy. After The Snap, after he hardened up and caught your attention, after he admitted to his very own Daddy kink, you knew he had a little spice in him, but you still hadn’t expected this. You get lost in his dominance. Turn into a wet, writing mess at his touch. God, you wish you hadn’t waited so long for this.

“Last chance to run, babygirl,” he says, bringing you back from your thoughts. You wish you could see his cock, could feel it, but the excitement of not knowing as he rubbed the budging tip against your wet slip, made you crave it all the more. You look back over your shoulder at him and wait for his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve... Fuck me.” It’s less of a plea and more of a demand of your own. He smirks down at you and presses one hand into your lower back, pushing your belly to the table. When he slides in, you drop your face down and moan. He goes slow, his entire length slowly pushing inside of you, stretching you, filling you. “Fuck,” you moan into the table. Steve represses a groan as he pulls out just a little and then pushes back in, fitting his entire cock in you.

There’s only a brief moment of stillness where you both revel in the feeling. Then Steve is moving, slowly pulling out then pushing forward. His pace increases, his thrusts get harder. Soon, you’re a panting, moaning mess on your kitchen table as Steve glides one hand up your back and tangles in your hair.

“You feel so good,” he groans out, voice barely above a whisper as though it’s hard for him to speak at all. “Touch yourself,” he says. “Touch yourself for me.” You lift off the table just enough to sneak your hand beneath you and play with your clit. You can feel his cock thrusting so close to your hand and you can’t help but reach just a little further and let your fingers touch it. Steve shudders and his thrusts stutter for just a moment before he gets it together. “Such a good girl,” he praises.

“Wanted this for so long,” you mumble, cheek pressed to the table and eyes closed, grinding your palm into your clit while you try to circle your fingers around his thick cock.

“Ever since Tony’s last Christmas party,” he admits. “That fucking blue dress.” He groans, recalling how you looked. “Wanted to bend you over the table right there in the middle of room.” He slows his thrusts, getting too close to his end with your fingers teasing him and your tight pussy wrapped around him. It gives you enough clarity in your head to think back. Christmas party?

“That was...” you breathe out loud. Before The Snap. Steve leans himself over your back, shallowing his thrusts and pulling the hair from your neck so he can kiss and lick at your skin.

“Yeah,” he groans, bringing his lips up to your ear. “Not like I could tell anyone I wanted to fuck my best friend’s girl.” Your breath hitches and your hand stills for a moment, but the low, long moan that escapes you involuntarily only encourages him.

He’d wanted you for that long? Years. While Bucky was still alive. While you hadn’t even given Steve a second look. How many nights did he spend locked away in his room thinking about you? Had he touched himself wishing it was you? How hard did he get imagining being inside of you just like he is right now?

“Steve,” you moan, reaching back with your other hand to feel for his hip, to hold onto him. Suddenly, you crave to give him everything. He’d waited so many years for you. You want to give him everything he wanted. You circle your fingers around him again. “I want you to cum in me.” His motions stop and he breathes heavily near your ear.

“Are you sure?” he asks, old fashioned concern in his voice. You hadn’t exactly discussed birth control or expectations or wants, but the way his cock twitches inside of you says everything. You take your hand off his hip and push up on the table enough to twist your head to kiss him.

“Please, daddy,” you try the line again. His hand snakes around to your front, cradling the very bottom of your neck by your collarbone and pulls you up, arching your back and taking some of his weight off of you. “Fill me up,” you beg.

“That what you want?” The concern in his voice is replaced with confidence as he starts moving again. “You want me to cum inside of you?” You barely manage to nod as he starts thrusting harder. You dig your palm into your clit, chasing your own release as much as his. “That’s right, babygirl.” You’re moaning hard now as he fucks you and you can feel his dick swell against your walls. “Oh, fuck,” his hips sputter again and with one more grind of your palm, you feel your own orgasm wash over you.

“Fill me,” you moan through the waves, clenching tight around his dick. “Make me yours.” Steve’s hand tightens around your neck briefly as he cums, pulling your body against him as he buries himself as deep as he can and spills inside of you. A mess of moans and sharp gasps, shuddering bodies and slickness, you both start to come down from your high, hands falling away from each other and breath shaky.

Steve recovers first, kissing gently at your neck before helping to lower you to the table. Your muscles feel wobbly and skin hot, sweaty. You’re spent and used and sticky and utterly satisfied. When Steve slowly pulls out of you, you feel fluid drip down your thighs and you clench down as if you can keep him inside of you.

“I can...” He pauses, still catching his breath. “Help you with the mess,” he says, motioning to the floor. You start to straighten yourself out, fighting your own body as your vision goes a little fuzzy, your blood still not back up to your head where it should be. You let out an airy laugh at his sudden concern to be gentlemanly again.

“Should probably clean ourselves first,” you joke lightly. He laughs and dips his head.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You worry he’s going to get awkward now, that the spark will vanish as quick as it lit the fire. Then he smiles when he looks at you and pulls you in for a kiss softer than any other he’d given you. It’s slow and gentle, melting any worry away from you. “Ladies first.”

After you’ve both washed yourselves up and made quick work of the melted ice cream, you move to the couch. You sit across from each other, each of sitting back against an armrest, feet and legs intertwined in the middle. Steve is staring at you softly and it causes a blush to rise up on your neck.

“So...” you sigh. “The Christmas party?” He bites his lower lip and grimaces a little bit.

“Yeah. I didn’t actually intend on ever telling you that,” he admits sheepishly and for a moment you see the Old Steve show up. It’s endearing and cute and makes you smile all the more.

“I honestly had no clue,” you tell him through a small laugh.

“I got pretty good at hiding the blushing after a while,” he says. “And you were happy. I wasn’t going to mess that up for either of you.” The tone humbles and you crawl over to seat yourself between his legs, back to his chest, and wrap his arms around yourself.

“So, tell me,” you say coyly. “Did I live up to the years of dirty fantasies?” He chuckles and puts his face into your neck.

“Better than I could have ever imagined,” he mumbles into your skin. “And what about you?” he asks, tightening his grip around you and settling you into his arms.

“Never even dreamed the good ol’ Captain America had such an intense side,” you tell him, humming and dropping your head to his shoulder contently.

“I took it easy on you,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your pulse.

You giggle and push back on his chest with your back as a playful shove. He chuckles again and eases up, settling into just holding onto you and enjoying the moment.

The happiness you feel is long overdue. It feels good. It finally feels right. You turn and give Steve a slow, lazy kiss and smile at him, unable to stop yourself. Your thoughts float back to your final words before his orgasm. Make me yours. It’s what set him off; the idea of you being fully and completely his.

What he didn’t realize is that you’d been his girl for a long while now. This just made it official.

~~~

A/N #2: So... keeping in mind it took me ten fucking months to write a part two... what would you all think about a sequel that is a "choose your own ending" in which you get to be conflicted over and ultimately choose if you stay with Steve or get back with Bucky after The Blip? Anyone interested?

Tumblr has been a bitch getting my work out to people so I ask that you like, comment, and reblog. Of course, if you’re really feeling generous, buy me a coffee! https://ko-fi.com/writerashley

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years ago

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Chasing Springtime

Summary: Kei Tsukishima, now in college, reacquaints himself with a childhood friend. They explore a museum together where they reminisce about their time in junior high. Old feelings that he has long shoved aside resurface.

Notes: Kaori Miyahara is an original character, but readers are free to put themselves into her shoes! This is my first fic and I love museums. There will be more chapters to come and let me know if you have any feedback.

Read it in (Ao3)

Spring (February) 2018 || Sendai Modern and Contemporary Art Museum || Sendai City || 3:00 PM

“I haven’t been to many contemporary art museums before,” Kei Tsukishima admitted as he followed Kaori Miyahara into one of the temporary exhibit galleries.

Although Tsukki hoped to work in a museum after he graduated college, he mostly envisioned a historical or science museum. He hadn’t considered any art museums because he wasn’t too familiar with them.

Growing up in the suburbs, there was not a big emphasis on the arts. Tsukki later regretted not paying more attention to the subject because it would have made the Introduction to Modern and Contemporary Arts class he was taking far less daunting. The class itself was interesting and eye opening, but he had felt like he lacked the actual experience with such art to fully appreciate the course. Towards the end of last year’s winter term, he had a conversation with his classmate Kaori visiting more museums to have a better understanding at how his courses will be useful for his planned career.

On one of the last few weeks of the winter term, he entered the classroom to find Kaori with a bunch of museum brochures spread out on her desk. He plopped on his desk next to hers and took out his notebook in preparation for their class.

“What’s with all the brochures?” he asked. Kaori was also in her first year in university. He hadn’t been classmates with her for years, but even then her desk remained messy before class. Some things never change.

Kaori turned her body towards him, sitting on the side of her chair and waved some of the brochures at him. The professor had not yet arrived, everyone was milling around talking about the upcoming spring break.

“How many of these have you actually been to?” she asked.

“I’ve been to those two and that one,” he pointed to one of the brochures on her desk. He took out his headphones and began placing his notes and pens on his desk.

“I’m sure I’ve been to more when I was younger but I haven’t been in some of these in so long I’m not sure what their interiors look like anymore.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you know that there were this many museums in the area?’ she asked, stacking the brochures on her desk.

“I guess not,” he shrugged, preparing to slip his headphones back on.

“I’m taking a class on Museum Management next semester and I don’t even know what most of the museums in the area look like. I’m not updated on their latest collections or their educational programs, I can already feel myself struggling at the subject.” she sighed. He could see a cloud of gloom start to gather on her head.

Tsukki honestly felt it was a little early to be panicking for a subject that started next term. He tried to reassure her, saying that many of her classmates would be on the same boat.

“There are so many I haven’t been to. I’ve been so focused on gymnastics when I lived here. I really should go to more museums.”she mumbled with her hands cupping her face, “I mean I’ve been to more museums when I lived in Tokyo because I was injured when I lived there. it’s great and all, but I’m not really taking my internship there.”

“Same,” he sighed, putting his hands behind his head, “Not about the Tokyo museums, but about visiting more museums. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re competing on both a team and as an individual gymnast. Of course that’s time consuming.”

Most gymnasts only competed on either team or individual. Kaori was technically recruited to compete on the team, but sometimes she competed on her individual because she had some difficult skills in her arsenal from her elite days.

“I actually wish we were required to go to museums every two weeks or so that we’ll be more updated about their latest collections, ne?” she mulled over with hands clasped together staring into the blackboard.

“Kaori, I’m sure most of your classmates wouldn’t have gone to that many museums either. I mean you’ll probably go to more throughout college right? Why would you ask for extra work in class? You seem to be doing pretty well.

Beside, we’re reading up on a lot of the things inside the museum. Isn’t that enough?” he said. Tsukki waved his notes. He reached out to take a handful of brochures from her desk and looked through them.

Kaori shook her head.

“Reading about history and art is very different from seeing it in front of your eyes. I feel like I understand the subject better when I know and see what they’re talk about. Visiting museums is important even if it’s not required by class, Tsukki.”

“I mean you could still do it on your own right?” he asked, with one brow up.

Kaori pouted and gave him the side eye, “You’re placing a lot of faith in my self- initiative. I mean, would you go on your own will? Regularly?”

“If I had someone to keep me accountable I guess,” he shrugged, handing the brochures back to her. Maybe she did have a point about required attendance.

Tsukki convinced her to form a museum club for two where they planned to go to museums on every other Sunday afternoon. Their first trip was to the 3M Science Museum, which catered more to Tsukki’s interest and the city museum the session after. Today it was an art museum, which was more up Kaori’s alley.

“Should we head to the temporary or permanent galleries first…” he asked, browsing through the map on the brochure. There was a temporary exhibit on Southeast Asian art, a children’s biennale of sorts and of course the permanent collections.

“We’re a little pressed. We can always visit the permanent collections another time, so the temporary exhibit might be best.” said Kaori, mentally calculating the time they should spend on the temporary collection to be able to quickly go through the permanent collection.

“My mom’s from Southeast Asia and I lived there for a few years, so I’m always curious what their art has to say especially in exhibits abroad,” she added. They presented their tickets at the counter and the staff directed them towards the Southeast Asia exhibit.

“I thought you said your mom was Chinese?” he asked, a little bit surprised. Tsukki didn’t know much about Kaori’s mother from the times he has seen her. He just knew she was Chinese because Kaori almost always perfected the kanji sections of their exam when they were in Junior High.

“Yeah, but she grew up in Southeast Asia because her parents migrated there.” she answered.

A lot of the paintings that came from the exhibit were Social-Realists, which reflected the realities and struggles of the Third World countries. The texts explained that although abstraction was a widespread movement in the region, artists feel a responsibility towards amplifying the voices of the masses.

“Cool! A movie.” she exclaimed, kicking off her boots as she hopped onto the mats. Kaori promptly sank into a chair.

Tsukki read through the exhibit caption before he followed suit. Kaori had kind of just dumped her shoes at the edge of the mat. He straightened them up and placed them besides his at a corner.

“It says the Thai artist wanted to film protests for workers rights in a rural area in Thailand, then something about it being a larger commentary on capitalism. A lot of the works here are so politically charged.” he commented, dragging a bean bag closer to her, “Does any of this match up with your experience when you lived there?”

“Not really, but you have to remember that I was really young and that my mom’s family were well-off. Majority of the people in the region are not as affluent. That and I’ve never lived in Thailand.” she sighed, “I heard the food there is really spicy.”

“Isn’t poverty a universal experience though?” he said, sitting back onto his bean bag. “I mean poverty exists here in Japan too. Why is Southeast Asian poverty so special that you would base an entire region’s works around it?”

Kaori’s eyes widened at his words. She looked at him with her eyebrow raised and her mouth ajar. Tsukki jerked back and waved his hands side to side in apology - a break from his usual demeanor.

“Ah…sorry, that’s not what I meant. What I wanted to say was ahh...their poverty seems to be branded with their Southeast Asian-ness. It’s like regular poverty mixed with...the stuff from pre-colonial Southeast Asian history class. It’s like they’re really emphasizing how Southeast Asian they are through their poverty. ” he rubbed the back of his neck as he explained, “I’m not sure I explained it that well.”

“There’s a duo from the Philippines that told me that when they do that kind of thing, they are more likely to get funding from Japan. I met them at a Yokohama show when I was in Tokyo. They regularly get grants from Japan Foundation so it must be a formula that works.” she said matter-of-factly.

“Isn’t that a little disconcerting? That they have to show themselves as poor to get funding for their art?” he asked, shaking his head, “Shouldn’t there be a better criteria for funding? Like merit or something.”

Kaori sat back and looked at him in the eye, “All this almost feels like a show of how different and advanced Japan is. Since we don’t experience this kind of poverty here, it makes people feel better about their conditions you know.” She let herself slump at her seat as she talked, “The message is this: we don’t need these movements to be widespread because these problems supposedly don’t exist.”

Tsukki was surprised at the sharpness of her words. He had never thought about art that way. I mean he knew that art could be used as propaganda, but the subtlety of nuances of a Southeast Asian contemporary art exhibit was astonishing if Kaori was indeed right.

“Ahh I’m not sure how acceptable it is to say out loud. The Japanese can be prissy about discussions on politics. The culture here is rather compliant. People would rather obey than speak up.” she said, fiddling with her jacket as she stared at the film, “ And…I think I’ve made you uncomfortable. Just so you know, I’m not accusing you of anything. Compliance is a structure. ”

He shook his head, “…more than anything I think what you said has given me something to think about. I don’t feel targeted, don’t worry.”

Her vocabulary had become so sharp and radical. Kaori had the tendency to be critical about politics from an early age or “edgy” as some of the schoolmates would describe her, but even this caught him a little off guard.

“Besides, just because this is all propaganda doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy its other merits,” he said standing up and preparing to leave.

Another couple entering the matted space turned to look at Tsukki. He looked slightly embarrassed.

“That’s right my leftist friend,” she said, winking at him, laughing inside at his discomfort. Tsukki nudged her side as she put her shoes back on.

“God, Kaori! You can be so cheeky sometimes.” he gritted his teeth, muttering at her, helping her up.

“Apologies, comrade.” she teased, walking on her tiptoes towards the next installation.

In the middle of the exhibit was a video installation that filled an entire wall. Mats covered the floor and bean bag chairs were spread all around encouraging visitors to sit and watch the film. A few visitors looking to rest were seated in the area. It looked like a casual film-viewing experience. After sitting in the area for a few minutes, they quickly moved onto to other works.

Tsukki’s favorite installation was probably one from Singapore. There wasn’t much text available about it, except that it made use of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s works such as Andata and Ubi that it was previously exhibited in the National Singapore Gallery.

The installation was fenced like a loose, dark maze. It was pitch black except for the patches of light emanating from tablet sized screens showing vignettes of apartment living rooms at night. The living rooms were shown from different angles all illuminated by TV screens as music by Sakamato, a renowned film music composer played in the background. Each tablet played a different piece.

“I like this one,” he said approvingly, “It’s unlike anything we’ve read in class.It’s more than paintings on walls. It’s a whole room of art!”

“It’s a great way to portray isolation in the cities.” she nodded.

Tsukki had barely pinpointed what he liked about the exhibit. Kaori had already summed up what it was about. The closest work they’ve discussed at class in relation to the installation was probably Rothko, an American abstractionist who painted huge canvases of color in hopes of moving people through the sheer size and emotion emanating from the painting.

“Reminds me of Edward Hopper,” she said, bending down a bit, to look at one of the screens.

Tsukki, who was peering at one the screens placed so low he had to crouch to be able to look, sat up straight. Hopper…that name seemed familiar. He probably took it up in his modern art class last semester. Maybe an American artist.

“American modernist who portrayed isolation of the city living. He had some works portraying how empty cities were during World War 2.” she said, as if reading her thoughts. “The professor barely mentioned it. I became a huge fan of his work when I was younger.”

Tsukki breathed a sigh of relief. Today was a Sunday, but he felt like he was being tested in school. Both of them took their time viewing each tablet, relishing in the details of each screen. They had stayed long enough that the music began to change to atmospheric noises and other atmospheric music.

Kaori had decided she was done before Tsukki was, so she sauntered over his side about a meter away, as not to pressure him to finish up. He sensed she was done and turned to her.

“Do you like this installation?” he asked. Her shape barely carved itself in the dark, but he could hear her breathing softly and the rustling of her jacket gave way where she stood while patiently waiting for him to finish.

“I do. The use of music makes me think about how different this installation would be if the music choices were switched. Andata is looming and melancholic right? It sounds like a silent scream. It heightens the alienation implied by the empty living rooms. If I changed it into something else, the feel would be totally different.” she whispered so quickly that he had to replay what she said in his head.

Tsukki could sense Kaori was brewing with ideas. She sounded excited, and a little distracted by her own thoughts as if a million thoughts were racing in her head.

“What song would you put in place to change the mood?” he asked.

Kaori brought out her phone. She looked around to see if the light would distract other viewers. Thankfully there was no one else in the installation. She tapped his headphones around his neck indicating that she wanted to borrow his chord. He drew out the chord from his phone in his pocket and handed it to her. His fingers touched the center of her palm.

Illuminated by the light of her phone, Kaori instructed him to look at the nearest screen. He put his headphones on. She played Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes which was a song from the fifties sung by a barbershop quartet. The song transformed the living into a scene of possible domestic bliss. The modern living room juxtaposed with a vintage song created the semblance of residents that liked a fun throwback.

She wiggled her finger and pressed another song, playing “Careless Whisper by George Michael". Tsukki smirked, suppressing his laughter. This was a sharp contrast to Sakamoto and Chordettes’ pieces indeed. He took out his headphones.

“But what would you play to describe your own living room?” he asked.

Kaori thought for a moment and searched through her phone, her face barely lit.

“Ahh” she exclaimed, gesturing for him to put his headphones back. The piece she played combined ambient noises in a park such as the croaking of frogs and chirping of birds and layered with a piano composition that mimicked the sensation of light rains and wind.

“Your living room in Karasuno?” he guessed. Considering he lived next door, the sounds they heard in their backyard were pretty similar.

Kaori nodded, “Sounds like your living room too when you open the windows.”

Kaori and Tsukki were neighbors during Junior High. Although Kaori’s schedule was always tight (even during their breaks) because she wanted to compete at the elite level of gymnastics, they spent many whatever time they had free in each other’s backyard, tossing a volleyball around or watching shows on Tsukki’s computer.

Sometime in their second year, Tsukki became embarrassed about being seen around Kaori in school because their classmates would tease them together. At a time when first crushes and romances were novel, Tsukki found the whole thing an irritable debacle. Although he easily stood up to bullies, the teasing still got to him. He didn’t want people to think Kaori was his girlfriend. Tsukki’s distancing did not sit well with Kaori. She understood his concern but felt that it wasn’t an excuse to stop being friends.

One afternoon, when Kaori’s parents weren’t home. She thought it was the perfect opportunity to hang out with him because there was no one around. The sound of a volleyball being tossed up in the air indicated that Tsukki was out playing in his backyard. It was a relatively peaceful day. The sun was out, the birds were chirping, frogs were croaking in the distance. Tsukki’s footsteps lightly scratched on the dirt beneath his feet.

She climbed the brick wall between them and propped herself up on her forearms.

“Tsukki! Tsukki! Hey!!!” she said, struggling to keep herself on the wall. Tsukki turned to the direction of the wall. He was jolted by the sound of her voice, stumbling back on his own feet.

“How did you climb the wall? What are you doing??” He hissed, scrambling to stand back up. Kaori was like a monkey sometimes.

“Do you wanna watch a musical? Let’s watch a musical!” she smiled, waving at him.

“No.” he sternly pouted, folding his arms and staring at her. He was determined to spend less time with her, the memory of school teasing still fresh on his mind.

“You just don’t wanna hang out with me, because I’m a girl right? If I was a boy, you’d totally hang out with me like Yamaguchi!” she yelled, “You’re not even busy-”

Kaori lost her grip on the wall and slipped down the wall. Tsukki gasped. He heard a thud into the dirt. In a shot of adrenaline, he scrambled up his side of the wall to check if she was alright.

“Kaori! Are you okay?” he asked, holding himself up on the wall. His feet were slipping. He urged himself to stay up.

Kaori sat on her butt. She rolled backwards and quickly stood on her feet.

“I’m fine. Thanks. Didn’t think you’d be concerned,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me “since you don’t want to be friends anymore looks like it.”

“I just don’t want people teasing that you’re my girlfriend because you’re not.” he said, his brows furrowed.

“Why can’t you just tell that? Do you really have to go around avoiding me sometimes? If you don’t want to be friends, I’ll just go find new friends!!!” she said out loud, crossing her arms. Kaori made friends easily, Tsukki had no doubt that she could easily find someone else to bother.

“Everyone nearby is kind of in college. Who are you going to be friends with?” he said, cocking his head.

“I’ll bike to the next corner!” she called out, raising her voice at Tsukki who was struggling to stay hanging on the wall.

Tsukki couldn’t hold on anymore and slipped back down to the dirt of his backyard. He tried to climb back up. He couldn’t. Although he was tall, he was relatively skinny for his height. He didn’t have a lot of strength or athleticism.

“Ok, fine let’s watch a musical. Just don’t be so noisy. You can come over. Bring your own headphones.” he sighed, talking to her from his side of the wall.

When he didn’t hear a reply, he called her name, “Kaori?” Had she gone into her house in deliberate measure to ignore him?

Kaori managed to climb on the wall with her arms folded in front of her.

“Yes? Did you try climbing over again? I heard some scuffles on the wall.” she grinned with a glint in her eye. Tsukki could just feel that she enjoyed watching him struggle.

“Just come,” he scowled, rolling his eyes.

“Ok!” she smiled, dropping back down into her side.

The two spent the next hour and a half in the Tsukishima family living room watching a live recording of “Singing in the Rain” off a computer. They sat squeezed together on the couch with the computer placed on each of their laps. Kaori tapped her fingers to the beat of the songs. Tsukki lightly hummed to the few melodies he was familiar with. Both fully absorbed in the story set at the end of the silent film era.

After they watched the musical, Tsukki got Kaori to toss the volleyball for him in his backyard.

“You should do a routine to ‘Singing in the Rain’! It would look cool with your clubs or hoop apparatus.” he said excitedly. He promised to get Yamaguchi to watch her competition if she did the said routine.

“I think it would be quite good with the hoops too! Hopefully my coach will let me do it next season. Almost everyone does Pop or Classical music in rhythmic gymnastics, it can get really boring.” she sighed, changing her toss to an underhand receive. She hit the incoming ball and sent it up high.

“Nice receive! You’re really improving.” he said, watching where the ball was falling. He promptly catches it with an overhand toss.

“Thanks, it’s from all this tossing that we’re doing.” she said, her eyes glued to the ball.

While they toss the ball back and forth, Tsukki begins whistling the main melody of Singing in the Rain.

“How do you do that? I’ve always wanted to whistle! ” she asked, trying to whistle but to no avail. Tsukki shrugs his shoulders. He tries to teach her how to shape her lips. Kaori tries a couple of times and sighs in defeat. His whistling blends in with the sound of chirping birds and they continue to play until dinnertime.

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

“Who wrote this piece? It’s great.” he said, moving his headphones back down to his neck gesturing to ask for her phone.

“Belle Chen, she’s a contemporary classical musician. You should download her music” she said, showing him her profile. “What would you play to describe your house?”

“Sukiyaki is something my mom would play.” he thought. His mother had a penchant for 60’s pop songs that she would blast while she cleaned and cooked.

The two exited the installation into a series of dimly lit installations. They found themselves out on a hallway with colorful glass with a long net of wind-chimes on the ceiling.

“Pity that they didn’t put this outdoors. The wind would create more variations with the sound. Here it’s just being regularly blasted by the air conditioning.” she commented.

As Tsukki’s eyes adjusted to the light, he rebutted, “Maybe they placed the chimes here not for the source of wind, but for the light source. If this installation was outdoors, if this whole hallways was outdoors…the transition from a series of dimly lit areas into the sun would be quite jarring. The artificial light with the gentle rustling of the chimes would be a gentle reminder to the senses about the transition of spaces.”

Kaori still thought the chimes were best placed outside, reminiscent of the sound of chimes and bells during a temple visit but Tsukki did make a good argument for its current placement. They sat on the benches laid out on the hallway, listening to the chimes.

“What about here? What music will you play here?” he asked.

Kaori didn’t even blink. She extended her hand for his chord and plugged him in then played Sudden Rush of Memories by the Shanghai Restoration Project. Electronic synth music filled syncopations at the start that mellowed as it went on. Piano mixed with mimicked shuttling of a passing. It was colorful and evocative of a transcendental past.

It reminded Tsukki of the rustling of the wind, trees and sunlight peeking through the branches of “The Spot”. His first adventure at “The Spot” when he was pedalling home after an afternoon spent at his volleyball youth group when he was 12 turning 13 on his first year in Junior High. He opted not to compete in his Junior High varsity team so his brother suggested that he sometimes practice with the adults from the town association to sharpen his skills in between his regular youth group. Practice had run later than usual and the sky was getting dark fast. He felt relieved that he didn’t have school the next day, so even if he had morning practice, he would have time to rest tonight.

On the last slope of the hill before he reached the street of his home, he heard a frantic pedalling from behind that threatened to derail his peaceful downward descent. He swiftly looked back to find Kaori Miyahara wide-eyed and struggling to control her bike at the frenzied speed she was going.

In a split second decision, Tsukki hit the brakes on his bike and swerved into the nearest wall he could find to prevent colliding with Kaori. He lightly hit himself on the wall, relatively unscathed. Kaori hastily pulled the brakes as soon as she made it down hill. She pressed so hard that she almost flew off her bike.

Tsukki pedalled down and told her to watch where she was going as she picked herself up onto her bike.

“Can you watch where you’re going next time? That was reckless and dangerous!” he told her off. He re-adjusted his glasses and put himself back onto his bike.

Kaori seemed shaken up and as she looked up to apologise to him her eyes were at the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry!” she said, bowing her head.

Her shoulders started shaking as she slowly lifted her head. Tsukki’s eyes widened. He was tall, even for someone who was 12, so even if Kaori was over 5 feet tall, she looked terribly small to him, especially when she cowered as she cried and pitiable. He held back his impulse to call her lame.

“It’s alright. Hey, look it’s not a big deal.” he nodded, dusting himself returning to his usual nonchalant tone. Kaori would not stop crying. He sighed and got off his bike.

“I said it’s not a big deal. Why are you still crying?” he said, scratching the back of his head in genuine confusion. He had never really made someone cry outside of a volleyball game before.

In between sobs, Kaori explained that she had an early day off from gymnastics today and she had planned to find a spot that overlooked Sendai City to see the sunset. Her friend had suggested a spot and gave her directions, but she was lost for over an hour. With her curfew in mind, she started panicking while trying to make her way home finally coming out into a familiar street just about 10 minutes ago.

“This has been a terrible afternoon!” she hissed in frustration, “I even brought my analogue camera and everything. and now I feel like I’m about to get in trouble for coming home late.”

Tsukki resisted the urge not to laugh. Kaori was crying and fuming at the same time, it was like she couldn’t choose between which emotion to feel first.

“Where is this place?” he said, trying to sound serious. After picking up Kaori’s bike off the road, he walked beside his own bike. “Enough biking for today, let’s walk home.”

Kaori described a spot right off the main road. She said it was somewhere uphill near a small park of sorts where one could see the view of Sendai from a mildly sloping patch of grass. Tsukki kind of knew the general area that Kaori described but he hadn’t been there himself.

“Why don’t you just ask your friend to go with you?” he suggested.

“Well, Yuhana-chan lives in the opposite direction of that spot. It’s very far from her house, she will need her parents to drive her there if she really wants to go.” Kaori thought aloud.

Tsukki offered to draw a map that she could use to get to the said spot for tomorrow after gymnastics.

“Should I pack lunch and just eat there after gymnastics?” she pondered.

“The spot seems nearer from home than your gym. Besides it might be too hot there if you go during lunch. Might as well just go first before you head out in the afternoon.

Besides, there is no way that I’m doing that map tonight, so you’ll have to come back for it after lunch.” he said, raising his nose at her.

Kaori, who was absorbed in her own thoughts about the next day’s adventures, was unfazed by Tsukki’s expression. If the spot seemed warm, she definitely needed to pack snacks and something to drink.

“Sure, thanks Tsukki!” she said heading to her house while waving at him, “See you tomorrow.”

Tsukki rolled his eyes at her. She seemed to have forgotten her day’s ordeals already. Kaori rolled her bike into her house and Tsukki rolled his bike into the side of their house. While he took off his shoes, his brother peered out of the dining room to greet him.

“Okairi, Kei.” he smiled warmly. Unlike Kei, Akiteru was warm, friendly and cheerful. He was affectionate and supportive of his younger brother, conscious that his brother looked up to him. Like Kei, Akiteru was a volleyball player and an ace in Junior High. Tsukki idolized him both in and out of the court.

“Kei, you’re later than usual. Did practice run late to today?” asked Akiteru.

“Practice was alright. Miyahara-san got lost and panicked. She almost crashed into me on her way down the hill because she was rushing home. She was crying for a bit and I didn’t know what to do so I waited for her to stop crying.”

“Oh, is she ok?” Akiteru’s face was marked with concern. He hadn’t expected something so serious to have happened.

“Yeah, it’s like she forgot all about it when she saw her home.” he snorted.

The boys’ mother called them for dinner and the two quickly washed up before heading for the table. After dinner, Kei insisted that his brother helped him practice his passes and receives in their backyard. As Akiteru was tossing the ball and instructing him to bend his knees some more, he asked more about Kei’s day.

“Kao-chan is a free-spirited ne?” he said, passing him the ball through an underhand toss.

“She’s so dramatic. She cries over nothing.” Kei sniffed, receiving his brother’s toss with perfect timing.

“Hmmm…it wasn’t because you were being mean to her or anything right?” Akiteru raised his brow, looking at Tsukki straight in the eye. His younger brother could be cold to kids his age. He felt that Tsukki didn’t have many friends not because he wasn’t likable or inherently a bad person, it was because he didn’t try to be nicer.

Kei hesitated and looked to the side.

“No!…” he exclaimed.

Akiteru raised both of his brows at his little brother.

“…no? Maybe?” he muttered crossing his arms grumpily, “I told her to be more careful that’s all.”

Akiteru laughed and hit him on his side, “Kei, you are a terrible liar!”

Kei cursed quietly. His brother knew him too well.

After lunch the next day, Tsukki knocked at Kaori’s door with the map at hand. She answered the door and peered closely at his map.

“I won’t get lost if I follow exactly this map, right? This is not a prank.” she said, examining the roads he had labelled onto the paper.

“Why would I make a wrong map? That’s too much work.” he said, sounding exasperated that Kaori had doubted him. He was waiting for her to deem the map usable; they stood on her front porch.

“Are you super sure that this is right?” she said, rubbing her chin with her fingers while continuing to inspect the map then peered at him.

“I’ve never actually been there.” he confessed sheepishly.

“I’ll just go with you. I kind of know where it is but I don’t know where the exact place is.” he added, “When I get bored I’ll just bike back.” He was curious what this spot looked like. His brother was in practice anyways so he had nothing better to do.

“Sounds fair,” she said, accepting his offer with her hands on her hips.

Tsukki went back home to grab his book, his phone and his bike. The two met just outside their houses and biked off with Tsukki in the lead. The path to the spot was long winding and a little off the main road. It was overwhelmingly uphill that Tsukki for a while wondered if they should’ve just walked.

After a few wrong turns, they finally found the spot. Just as Kaori’s friend described, there was a patch of grass and a glorious view of the city from a vantage point with plenty of trees. The summer breeze blew by gently. The sight took their breath away.

“Wow….” said Kaori under her breath. She parked her bike on the ground and took her things from the basket. Kaori outstretched her arms and smiled. The wind tousled her hair and jacket.

Tsukki settled himself under a tree and put on his headphones. He opened his book and folded his legs onto himself. He swiftly lost himself in his reading.

Kaori followed suit and sat near him. She pulled a bento box of sesame cookies and a thermos accompanied by two cups from her bag as well as her watercolor set, sketchpad and camera. Occasional gusts of wind would block her eyes with her hair, but she did not seem to mind. Kaori was busy being content.

When Kaori remembered the food she had set out, she tapped Tsukki on the shoulder and pointed towards the cookies. He took a cookie, thanked her and went back to the book. She poured herself some tea before standing up to take a photo of the view.

The two hardly talked while they immersed themselves in their separate worlds for the afternoon. Kaori sat painting away while Tsukki read with his headphones on. Kaori had packed her own music, but she decided that she liked the sounds of the wind rustling tree branches better.

As Kaori flipped through another page in her sketchpad, she looked up to see that Tsukki had fallen asleep with his hand on an opened book over his chest. She took another cookie and laid on her back. The light penetrating through the leaves of the trees filled her view. She held the cookie with her teeth and took a photo of the sky with her camera.

The click from her camera woke Tsukki from his light sleep. He blinked and turned towards her. Kaori took another photo of the sky for safe keeping - her film camera wasn’t always reliable.

“I like the light from here.” she sighed softly, “It’s like it’s leaking through the sky.”

“Isn’t there a word for that? Komorebi? The light that filters through the trees?” he yawned, picking up his book back up.

“Komorebi?” she whispered to herself. She liked it how it sounded and repeated it to herself a few more times. She stuck out her arms to see the shadows of the tree play on herself.

Tsukki went back to his book. She sat back up to continue to paint. They spent the afternoon on the grass, peaceful and unhurried.When the sunset became apparent, Tsukki began packing his things, preparing to leave.

“It’s time to go,” he said, “It’s getting late.”

Kaori had begun packing her things too. Her empty thermos was stowed beside the cups in her bag. She was carefully putting her brushes away then turned to him.

“Tsukki, but the sunset is just getting good. This is the best part! Can’t we stay a little longer?” she said, unable to look away from the magnificent gradients of the sky.

“I’m going to go ahead, you can stay.” he frowned, walking towards his bike.

“But I’m not sure I remember how to go home. Can’t we stay a little longer….please???” she pleaded, clasping her hands together.

“10 more minutes!” he sighed, sitting back down beside her.

Kaori brought out her camera and snapped a photo of the sunset oohing and ahhing its colors.

“Tsukki, you should have a photo with this view.” she insisted, shuffling him towards the front of the camera.

“Eh? No!” he said, standing his ground as she gently but firmly shoved him away from the tree.

“Come on, how else will you commemorate the discovery of this spot?” she said, poking his side, “Smile ok? Film is expensive. I can only take a few pictures, not like a digital camera.”

Tsukki begrudgingly humored her and smiled in front of the camera. Afterwards, Kaori asked him to take her photo too.

When the photos were taken and the camera was packed away, they headed back down the hill towards their homes. Kaori tried not to yell as her bike plunged down the steep hill. Tsukki biked behind her, afraid to bike in front her after yesterday’s mishap. He gritted his teeth and his bike accelerated into a speed that almost flattened his glasses against his face.

They biked quietly side by side after the hill. The ride was generally silent until Kaori spoke up.

“Thanks for today, Tsukki. That spot is the best place around here. You know I was starting to think this place was boring!” she beamed, “though I was thinking maybe next time we should just walk if it wasn’t so far…”

“We?! You’re planning to drag me here again?” he exclaimed, patting his hair back into place as he saw their street approaching. The sky was holding out its last light, turning into a light shade of purple.

“I mean you don’t have to come back, but I will keep going there and you can come if you like. It’s your spot now too!” she said, turning towards him.

Tsukki never had a spot to consider his before. He had his room, but that wasn’t really the same.

From then on, they knew that patch of grass as “The Spot”. Kaori would return to it. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Tsukki through the rest of her time in Miyagi. When she moved away, it was one of the places she missed the most.

“Kind of reminds me of The Spot…” he murmured, a little nervous as he spoke. Ever since he met Kaori in class, they haven’t really spoken about their past.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been there.” she wondered.

“Yeah, it has been, for us both but more for you I guess.” he said, turning towards her.

“Did you still go there after I transferred out?” she asked, turning to face him. Her eyes were wide and curious. He looked away.

He nodded, “Once in a while. The piece reminds me of our first afternoon there. It was a little windy, we watched the view. You painted and I read.”

Kaori looked the other way, “We’ve been there so many times, I don’t really remember the first time. It feels like all my memories there have blended together some days.” She sounded quiet and a little embarrassed that she couldn’t remember more.

“At the end of the afternoon, you took a photo. I took one of you too. We watched a bit of the sunset, but we had to go back and you had already asked for ten minutes.” he said, staring down pretending to look at the piece’s cover art.

Kaori kept silent, her hands on her lap. Leaving Miyagi was such a painful memory for her. She tried to leave her memories behind when she landed in Tokyo.

“Why choose to come back to Sendai? You seem suited towards Tokyo.” he asked, genuinely curious. He stared at her, puzzled that she willingly came back to a place that she admitted had brought her so much pain. Kaori was not one for rural and suburban living too. She was a city girl at heart. Tokyo sounded perfect.

“Two words. Scholarship offer. The university offered me a full-ride plus allowance. I didn’t have my National Team funding so it would be expensive to continue doing gymnastics on my own.” she admitted.

Kaori checked the time. They had a little more than an hour before the museum closed.

“Let’s breeze through the permanent collection,” she suggested, changing the topic.

——————————————————

Once Kaori’s feet hit the tatami of her apartment, she hurriedly went through her boxes of photos which she brought with her from her time in Miyagi prefecture and later Tokyo. She found a box labelled “Junior High”. After a few minutes of searching, she found a pile of photos labelled "Others" which she used to refer to any event that didn’t have to do with her family, school and gymnastics life.

Her fingers find two copies of the same photo of Tsukki with their first sunset at The Spot. One of the copies had writings on the back.

She had written “Thanks for bringing me here, Tsukki. We should go back!” in her script, signed with her name and the date. She must have meant to give this to him, but totally forgot.

The photo untangled their many memories in The Spot and brought back a rush of memories specific to their first afternoon: the light from the trees, the cookies and Tsukki falling asleep beside her with his book. It had been almost six years and Tsukki still remembered it all as clear as day.

Kaori picked up her phone to text him. “You were right, I did take a photo. I found it. Will bring it to you when we see each other at uni. Find me in the library tomorrow?”

In the next hour, Kaori sat on her floor and flipped through her photos from that spring. She played “Sudden Rush of Memories” by The Shanghai Restoration Project as she carefully inspected each photo to see if she remembered when they were taken and with whom. At each syncopation and rest in the music, she felt her heart stop as she reminisced on her past that she had buried when she moved to Tokyo. The nostalgia of her time in junior High mixed with memory of her injuries and her parents’ separation brought a wave of inexplicable emotions.

The next day Kaori was in the library trying to cram some study time between her last class and her training when Tsukki pulled out a chair across her and brought out his books.

“How did you find me?” she jolted up, visibly surprised.

“You sat at this spot the last time I was in the library, thought I’d find you here again.” he said in hushed tones, “and didn’t you tell me to find you in the library before your training?”

Kaori ignored his question and slipped the photo to him. Tsukki’s expression asked whether she was lending or giving it to him. She flipped the photo over to show him the writing.

“I had two copies made because I wanted to make sure you got your own. It’s yours now.” she explained quietly.

Tsukki carefully slipped the photo into one of his books and began studying. He had some time before his training began. They sat absorbed in their separate worlds, catching up with their school work and passing the hours of their afternoon allowed by their schedules with their books.

When Tsukki got home after his training, his brother had already laid out dinner on the table. He had made cabbage salad, and pork cutlet curry bowls on top of the usual miso soup and rice. Akiteru greeted him brightly and shuffled dinner from the kitchen counter to their dining table.

“Let’s eat!” he said, gesturing for his younger brother to come sit. Tsukki put away his things and brought out one of his books from his bag.

Tsukki nods. He quickly puts his sweaty clothes away. His usual bag was getting smelly, he aired out his books while on his desk. He brought out one book to read during dinner.

Akiteru noticed the photo slipped into the book. He pulled it out to look at it. He flipped it around surprised to see the handwritten note at the back.

‘Who took this photo?” he casually flips the photo surprised to find the writing at the back. He smiles a bit.

“I didn’t know you kept this after all these years.”

“I didn’t. I met Kaori the other day. She gave me this.”

Akiteru raised his brows, eyes widening as he inspected the photo. He hadn’t heard about her since she left. When she moved, he assumed it was permanent. What brought her back?

“She’s in Miyagi again?” he commented with a neutral tone.

“Sports scholarship offer from the university,” said Tsukki.

“We were in the same class last semester and I ran into her the other day. That’s all.” explained Tsukki, sipping through his miso soup. His tone indicated that was the end of the topic.

Akiteru nodded and backed away from the topic. His younger brother was not ready to talk about it. He put the photo down and began digging through his rice.

Kaori’s relationship with Kei was unique in many aspects. For one, he calls her by her first name despite his persistent habit of addressing his few close friends strictly by their last names. Kei had always been private about the time he spent with Kaori. Even when the two were close, Kei kept his stories and comments about Kaori to a minimum.

After chores and homework were said and done, Tsukki laid down on his bed. He took the photo back out and played “Sudden Rush of Memories” with his headphones on. The piece took him back to many an afternoon, lying flat on his back as the spring breeze gently blew by. He could hear Kaori’s camera clicking beside him. Closing his eyes as if he was back on “The Spot” for the first time, he placed his hand on his chest and dozed off into the night.

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

Read the rest of the chapters:

|| Chap. 2 (AO3) || Chap. 3

#tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines

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hoedameron · 3 years ago

Photo

but before i go looking in the tags, let’s talk about my latest gifsets!

what a worker bee i was both yesterday and today with prodigal son AND loki <3 never have i created so many gifs in a short amount of time it’s a damn miracle that my photoshop didn’t straight up cough up blood and keel over. alas, us bitches are stronger than that! if this post gets flagged because of the scenes i included....that would just mean that i made the right decision to exclude those scenes ajsdksajkldsa

malcolm stabbing martin

when the episode finally downloaded, i took a peek at the ending before it aired to see how it all ends (just in case it doesn’t get renewed </3). GOSH, was i just in a TIZZY when i saw this happen and i couldn’t tell my dad what i saw because we were straight up watching the show as it aired. anyways, keeping my secret knowledge, i got to work on making this gifset. i missed a huge chunk of the episode bc it took me over TWO hours to make the six gif set. i was really torn on the “artistic” approach aka which scene to gif and which to leave out. because i saw the ending before anything else, i couldn’t play it out loud and i didn’t have my headphones to listen so i was like FREE FORMING THE SUBTITLES. plus the captions weren’t synced up so it was really hard to decipher what was being said :(

i really thought i would be able to create the set before 9 but i was running into unforeseen issues such as the subtitle problem, which on top of that, like i said earlier, my photoshop is c/racked and janky so....you catch my drift. i was actually going to gif the bisexual moment in the cafe which i think would’ve been MUCH easier but i jumped the gun and wanted to make the gifs of the shocking ending. funny part about that is the shocking part wasn’t even included in my set (malcolm driving the knife into martin) because i felt like the scene was too short...anyways, let’s talk about the positives:

i really do like the coloring of this one. i used a psd that i’ve used before and luckily it’s meant for outdoor scenes with greenery so the gif really popped. sharpening, buddy ole pal, love you sm. the caption was kinda last minute but i hoped to save it with the gradient. cropping was a bitch because for some reason, it takes forever when you’ve made multiple gifs beforehand (cache innit) pero we pulled through! i actually started not saving the psd files to try and save time which is very unusual for me pero i was getting frustrated with photoshop so i was like y’know what....so i just gave up entirely and stopped saving. i do save when i’m taking my time but jeez, it’s a bad habit. i like saving the psd file because i never know if there is a mistake i missed in post and when i go to publish it, it’s blatant and it needs to be fixed. please, save your psd files idc if it takes up space u can just delete them later. IT HELPS !! TRUST ME!!

first & “last” appearance

i actually premade gifs for this gifset! unfortunately, i didn’t realize that three of the five gifs were the wrong size (pictured above) because i flipped the ratio. instead of 268 x 250, i made them 250 x 268. i don’t know HOW i managed to fuck that up but luckily i saved the psd files (wink, wink) so the coloring was still intact. i think i had to restart photoshop or it was getting too late so i picked it back up in the morning. sucks that i had to remake the entire gif from scratch but we will take some wins xx

coloring is the same with the previous gifset (listen....it’s a good coloring) and i actually did have an alternative coloring that was very warm pero i didn’t end up using it. almost melted the two with the “last” appearance of gil but ultimately didn’t go through with it. also i was thinking of using baby malcolm as the first appearance because technically, that IS his first appearance in the show but i was like...just use adult malcolm lol. also i know that scene of dani isn’t the “first” but the first scene she has goes really quick and she is planked by gil so there isn’t much of a solo (even though this scene isn’t much of a solo either pero it’s better than the former). the lighting is weird in this episode and my coloring tried their best :/ i know gifmakers make each gif a diff coloring pero i’m lazy okay and looking to be time effiencent. another slight tangent is that i actually queued the post for the morning but since i woke up to a storm, i was like, i’m here so i’ll publish it myself.

other than that...i didn’t run into any other problem. i was actually hesitant to make the caption that because i wasn’t sure how to really describe the team. i have poor memory so if there was ever an official name, i do not remember it. i did a quick google search pero it turned up nothing. i stuck with “dream team” because, well, that’s what they are. plus i didn’t want to tarnish the gifset with any mentions of p/olice (i was thinking about putting sumn along the lines of ‘the nypd team’) so DREAM TEAM IT IS because it’s true! you cannot have the show without these five! also, i should’ve used quotations on “last” because there is a bunch of talk about a renewal pero...just in case... sorry y’all :/

odinson brothers parallels

this was made in the spur of the moment. i saw that the teaser trailer with shirtless loki dropped in hd, i came A-RUNNING! it was posted like 47 minutes after the fact and i was like...somebody probably already made a gifset of the scene so i was like...gosh, to make the gifset or not all the while i was trying to download the video. trying because again, this was in the middle of a storm so my wifi was acting up and wasn’t at its strongest (whatever that may be). so i was getting frustrated because neither cc nor 4kdownloader was downloading this small one minute clip. that’s when i knew i was gonna be too late to make the loki gifset so i was like whatever ig...

then i had an idea.

i love parallels so luckily it hit me that this paralleled with thor and how his hair got chopped off. so, i knew i had ragnarok downloaded and got to work <3 wasn’t sure what dimensions to use so i went with 268 x 268 to make perfect squares. because the loki scene was short, i could only make three so i was like..okay, i can work with this. three for loki, three for thor, they’re brothers and they share! i wasn’t planning to add subtitles but i had written them down for the plain gifset so i was like alright, we’re going all in. i didn’t take that long to make since again, they’re small gifs and i did have a coloring in mind that i always use for ragnarok (it’s my fave for non-marvel edits as well). there was a slight adjustment to the final loki gif because i realized the gif had that dark fade into the scene which i didn’t know if it was an artistic choice for the show itself or was added for the trailer only (it happens when companies cut a bunch of scenes together and it’s not at all how it actually plays out). i didn’t want to take any chances so i cut those parts out. i know the gifs are short on the loki side pero...that’s just how it is in show business.

thank you so much for listening and hearing me out! i like discussing my work and i try to have pride in them even if the numbers don’t reflect what i hope they would. either way, still learning, still growing, still thinking about buying p.s. like deadass this shit is RIDICULOUS -_- imagine opening up ps and like...it opens up in less than two minutes...shivers

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her-storybooks · 4 years ago

Photo

The Powers of Three (7/?)

SUMMARY :The Team catches wind of a case where men are being murdered with their limbs being cut off, and left with a mysterious mark on their chest! Dean has a night of passion that has dark consequences and Sam finally gets to the bottom of Y/N’s inability to sleep.

AUTHOR NOTES: Hello, my lovely little readers! I hope you liked this chapter! If you want more from this chapter, head over to my Patreon where I have added some extra scenes! The scenes show some more adorable fluffy moments between Y/N and Sam getting closer - emotionally and possibly physically? https://www.patreon.com/herstorybooks

WORDS: 8,866

TAGS:

sam winchester x reader - Freeform

season 7

canon and au i guess

Leviathans

Angst

secret pining

Protective

Slow Burn

Season 7 Episode 13: The Slice Girls

They rented a car this time. Since Dean still didn’t have Baby, and Y/N was done risking the interior of Betty, this was the next best thing. It also meant Sam could also do some of the longer driving if Y/N and Dean got too tired. Y/N was folded up in the back seat, shoes off and fluffy socks present. The drive was long and late at night, so she might as well make herself comfortable. Her headphones were plugged in, blocking the sound of the car and road outside. As her favorite calming song pulsed into her ears, she looked up and out of the window. There were no stars, only pitch blackness. Which was a shame but not a surprise. She counted all the street-lamps as they blipped in and out of sight. Their warm orange glow reflecting patterns on the window and Y/N’s face.

Sam would keep glancing in his rear-view mirror, to catch small sweet glimpses of Y/N. She looked just like she did in the photograph Bobby had taken of her as a teenager. His caption fitting both scenarios. Y/N didn’t take an awful lot of time to breathe. To stop and take a moment. Jumping from one case to another, refusing to sleep, and always reading. Seeing her relax her shoulder blades and just be still, it was worth a photograph in itself. Sam would never admit it out loud, but he loved the way her eyes sparkled and gently changed color as the streetlamp’s light bounced off of her face. It was far too distracting, especially whilst he was driving. Sam took a brief check on his brother, still propped up against the window, mouth open and snoring loudly. Sam laughed to himself as one of his own snores woke Dean up. He jumped from his subconscious and back into reality. Stretching his back and grunting awake, Sam gave him an amused smile.

“Morning!” He kidded, it was actually 10 at night, the early morning not too far off. The sound of Sam’s voice also triggered Y/N out of her little cocoon of quietness, taking out an earbud and watching Dean awaken. He went straight to the flask in his coat pocket, shaking it to check its contents, then taking large sips from it. “Is that Bobby’s?” Sam asked in a slight shock.

“He’s been carrying it around since the Cabin.” Y/N piped up from the back, receiving a quick side glance from Dean.

“Mine sprung a leek.” He explained, the sharpness of whatever liquid he just took in, burning his throat.

“You know, most people would carry, I dunno… a photo as a memento.” Sam jabbed, glancing over at his big brother.

“Shut up man! I’m honoring the guy!” Dean waved the flask in front of his face. “alright? This is grief therapy, like Y/N and her stupid amount of reading or you and your wild goose chase.”

“Stupid?”

“Wild goose chase?” Both Sam and Y/N asked with an offence. Dean rubbed his eyes, oh god he’d angered them both. “four guys dead in the space of a week. Hands and feet both cut off!” Sam repeated the headlines of their current case, expecting Dean to be a bit more invested.

“Psycho guy with a hand and foot fetish run amuck!” Dean offered his half-arsed attempt at an explanation. Y/N rolled her eyes in the usual fashion.

“Come on, Dean. Four grown men thrown through walls! Even you have to find that odd.” Y/N instigated. Dean just pulled his ‘i don’t care’ expression and shrugged.

“Did you even read the article?” Sam asked exasperated.

“Of course he didn’t.” Y/N complained, picking up the newspaper and slamming it onto Dean’s chest. “he was napping.”

“Well, what else has he got going on?” Sam asked, annoyance still dripping in his voice. “Dick Roman’s a dead-end, for now, you might as well…”

“Stay busy.”

“Stay busy.” Dean and Y/N both finished Sam’s sentence for him in unison, having heard that expression at least 20 times this last week.

“Exactly,” Sam moaned at the mocking from his fellow hunters.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #supernatural fanfiction

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un-deux-zero-quatre · 5 years ago

Photo

“come be my teacher”

→ pairing: kim seokjin x (f) reader → genre: fluff, crack, if you squint it’s slow-burn → part i: 2,208 words → author note: inspired by a cute TA and my miserable effort in a korean language course while studying abroad. unlike y/n’s bold self. i never actually made efforts to get to know boys on campus, but then again i was never blessed to attend school with worldwide handsome jin. this is my first fic so hopefully you enjoy it, let me know what you think :)

(gif found on sbs website)

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You dabbed at the sweat droplets that formed on your forehead as the elevator to the sixth floor dinged to signal its arrival (fucking finally, you thought to yourself). You stepped out alongside a few other students heading towards room 605 for intro to Korean. A student sitting on the floor with his back against the windowed wall caught your peripheral. You glanced in the most casual manner you could pull off, but he was too busy looking down at his phone and you were forced to keep walking in the throng of students in the busy hallway. He looked cute, but honestly, half the campus was attractive boys that never gave you the light of day. Plus, having hiked half a mountain and power walked a large portion of your campus, the only thing on your mind was finding a seat to sink into, getting your heavy backpack off your sore shoulder, and downing the ice cold water in your HydroFlask. Not another cute boy who would ignore you. You made a beeline for a desk near the middle of the room, next to the giant windows. After not so carefully dumping your backpack on the desk table, you reached over to pull the window open, wondering why the hell you thought that wearing a long sleeve hoodie over black leggings during spring in Seoul seemed liked a good idea when you got dressed this morning. “I think my last brain cell stopped functioning the minute it started getting warmer,” you say to your deskman and friend, who is immersed in her music but gives you a sympathetic smile. Being that it was just the first week back to school, the classroom was still half empty. Most students would likely pile in gradually after managing to find the correct classroom… Yonsei was not exactly a small campus. Even local students found it difficult at times to navigate the famous campus.

You took this as an opportunity to lazily get going on the notes projected on the board. It was mostly stuff you’d get on the syllabus anyway, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a digital copy; you did have a knack for misplacing important documents when you needed them the most and you did not want to have to suffer anymore than you anticipated from a course titled ‘Survival Korean.’ Despite having lived in the capital city for a couple months, your Korean had barely progressed from being able to order coffee and read instagram captions. Err, 70% of some instagram captions. So here you were at 8:45 am on this warm and cloudy day, sitting next to your practically fluent friend, mentally playing off your anxiety about being forced to brokenly speak in front of people who probably were only taking the class for an easy A. Before you knew it the professor was calling for attention to commence the class. You barely listened but maintained eye contact and nodding confidently to assert dominance. At least thats what you thought your half-assed efforts were doing for you. “Throughout the following weeks you’ll be working closely with a group of hand selected TA’s who will help you on your weekly tasks. They have worked hard to prepare engaging activities for all of you so please look forward to their lessons.” He signaled at a few older students scattered across the wall opposite to your seat, who flashed friendly smiles or lifted their hands up to identify themselves. You scanned and your eyes fell on one boy with wispy bangs and a soft pout on his lips.

Your one brain cell, as lame as it was at times, immediately recognized him as the boy who was sitting outside the classroom before class started. Getting a better chance at seeing his features you realized he was lowkey more handsome than other boys you’d seen on campus. Everyone knew Yonsei was notorious for attractive and bougie students but you did not expect to have a TA that looked like an Oscar nominated actor. You wondered if he was as kind as his eyes presented, or if he was a case of reverse-bitch face. You were brought back to consciousness when he turned and your eyes connected. You remained expressionless when his plump lips curved upward slightly. You felt your chest clench of embarrassment and quickly shifted your eyes at other students, focusing on each one for a few seconds to play off the fact that you were obviously drooling for this stranger. Why did you feel yourself burning up? It’s not like you have never seen a pretty boy. You weren’t the type to get so worked up over that. You cringed at yourself for feeling so affected that you didn’t even notice the professor had finished talking and students were shuffling to put their stuff away.

You felt your friend poke your arm, “Dude, let’s go.” You looked up at her and slammed your MacBook shut. “Oh— yeah sure! Do you have class right now?” She looked at her phone and groaned, “Ugh, I still have a whole hour before it starts. Let’s go chill somewhere.” Swinging your backpack over your shoulder you followed her out the classroom’s back exit, lowering your gaze to fiddle with your AirPod case just in case another opportunity for you to make an ass of yourself presented itself. You snapped the case open, swinging your hair around to plop the earphone in, missing handsome boy who was standing by the podium by the front door, watching you with curiosity, a tiny smile once again on his lips.

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“I seriously cannot believe we never realized they sell kaya toast here! Why do we always play ourselves?!” your friend sighed as you trudged up the massive concrete steps to Daewoo Annex Hall. “Maybe it’s because we always insist on going off campus to our fave cafe, we just can’t help being so loyal.” The main floor was buzzing with the loud chatter of students mingling in between classes, many of them ordering or waiting for their ritualistic iced Americanos to be served. You joined the short line to order, glancing at the menu above the case of baked goods. Your mind foggily drifted back to handsome boy from earlier. You wondered if he found you weird for staring so intently. By no means did you have a resting bitch face, but your natural expression doesn’t exactly scream approachability.

Though it had only been a few seconds of staring, you recall how sparkly his eyes had been. His wispy hair framed them perfectly, and alongside his dark eyelashes it was no surprise you were so immediately entranced… You caught yourself; who can even manage to look that attractive so early in the day?! Since when did good looks even mean that much to you? He was probably an asshole anyway, using the TA position only to exert power over undergrads who couldn’t afford do much but beg for mercy during office hours and rant online about shitty policies.

You felt your nose scrunching up into a frown when a loud laugh brought you back to the present moment. Looking down from the menu to the register you noticed a wavy haired, uniform clad barista throwing his head back at what seemed to be the funniest joke in the world. He flashed a boxy smile at whoever was leaned over the bar waiting for their coffee all while his hands expertly handled the register, tucking away won bills and passing a receipt to the customer who just finished ordering.

“Wow, I guess all the cute boys decided to torture us today,” your friend whispered, raising her eyebrow at you. You couldn’t even try to argue with her, this boy definitely contributed to evidence that only attractive students attended Yonsei… kind of like how handsome boy did as well… As if the universe had heard your mind ruminating, and decided it was time to intervene, the person leaned over the counter turned to look in your direction, and you had to bite your tongue to not gasp when those sparkly brown eyes connected with yours.

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You know those cheesy rom-coms where the protagonist finally meets her true love (or whatever) for the first time and the world magically melts away so that it’s only the two of them? Or how in Bollywood movies when the heroine locks eyes with the bad boy love interest and boom, cue sensual but still cute song with perfectly timed choreography? You loved that shit but never for one second believed it applied to the real world.

So why, God why, did you feel like time had stopped the second his eyes met yours and nothing else, especially not your midday politics class, mattered? “Hey! You’re one our teachers for survival Korean, right?” Your friend’s voice cut through your bizarre cinematic moment. She had stepped forward to order while she greeted none other than mister handsome boy. Although it had felt like an eternity, only a few seconds had transpired so the odds of you looking like a blithering idiot to others was very slim. “Yeah, you have a good eye, there’s about 10 of us there,” he smiled at your friend. “Are you both in the class? My name’s Seokjin, I’ll be teaching the lesson in a couple weeks.” You friend shot a quick smile at him and turned to the barista to order. You glanced quickly at her, the barista whose name tag read Taehyung, and then back at handsome b— err, Jin.

Since both your friend and Taehyung were busy in a transaction, you had no choice but to keep the conversation alive. “Uhh yeah, we are… my name is ____,” your eyes finally settled on his. He straightened up from the coffee bar, starching his arms up and brushing the back of his head.

Fuck, he was tall.

“Are you gonna order coffee, too? Speaking of, where’s mine? Ya! Tae!” He motioned over at the register and you remembered the sole reason for you climbing a steep hill 10 minutes away from your next classroom. You mumbled a soft oh, thanks and faced back to the register to order. It looks like Taehyung had abandoned his spot to make Jin’s drink, so a kind-eyed but sleepy girl took your order instead.

Stuffing your loose change back in your cardholder you made your way over to the main lobby where your friend stood with Jin and two other boys. “Ugh, I think I’ve had enough of feeling awkward for today,” you thought as you slowed down your steps. Always a queen with perfect timing, as you arrived you heard Tae scream out Jin’s name and order and Jin waved goodbye. “See you next week! Don’t forget to pick up a good notebook!”

“What,” you deadpanned as your friend turned on her heel to stare at you with an expression you only saw when stumbling across an aesthetic new cafe.“What are the odds of us getting such a hot TA for the easiest class ever?! And he’s not a complete jerk, wow.” HA, your lips pursed out as your inner monologue from an hour ago quickly flashed in your find. “I mean, maybe now he’s nice before he actually gets to teach us, what if he completely switches up? Also excuse me, but easiest class ever if you already speak Korean only! I’m not ready to take L’s in front of everyone,” your hands ran through your hair as you plopped down on a couch. “It’ll be fine, maybe Jin can be your motivation.” If the eyes emoji were based on anything, no doubt it was your friends iconic expression. As you opened your mouth to protest she dove away back to the coffee bar for your drinks.

Blowing air out gently from your pursed lips you dwelled on what’s to come. Okay… maybe if you kept an open mind the class (and this very specific TA) wouldn’t be so awful. You did choose to come abroad to a country where didn’t speak the language in hopes of eventually becoming fluent, after all. What good would negativity do? And anyway, it’s not like Jin would be teaching the entire course, so he probably wouldn’t even be able to clock how awkward he made you act (not that you understood either, its not the first time you see a cute boy.) As your friend came back holding two iced caramel macchiatos you resolved to just be as gentle on yourself as possible this semester. You had faced high stress and lost enough sleep last semester over things that were not worth it in the long run, and the thought of handling things the same way again felt draining. Even if it meant looking like a dumbass in front of the class asking wtf anything meant after reading a wall of text, you were going to put in effort in doing well to avoid issues later on and nothing was going to distract you. Not even soft, perfectly messy hair or pretty brown eyes or pillowy lips that curled around words so perfectly you had to restrain yourself from daydreaming.

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years ago

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Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 1 Chapter 8

• So…umm…I LOVE this chapter! More in hindsight than when I was actually playing it because back then it just sounded like a jealous woman trying to sabotage the MC and failing. But now having played through this chapter and even written a fic about it…I have to say there’s a lot going on in this one.

• I’ve often found the 8th chapter in the series pretty interesting. This was the first chapter in the series to feature diamond scenes from all three of the original LIs in a single chapter. This would happen again in Book 2, but by Book 2 the imbalance was a lot more tangible. I will speak more about this later…but suffice to say that back when we had just two books in the series, I would call the 8th chapter The Magical Number Eight.

• A common misconception that seems to stem from this chapter (and others, often by Kiara-haters) is that Kiara “agrees to be our friend” this chapter, and then jumps ship to Madeleine in Book 2. That’s bullshit. Kiara never mentions the word friend. She says ally. And she delivers.

• THIS is also where you get the first little inkling that Maxwell could be romanced, though we would only know for sure by the middle of Book 2. This chapter is also where you also get the first of many Drake’s plot related scenes. Which meant that sometimes, even if a fan did not like him, they would end up buying his scenes anyway for some crumb of information on their LI. Drake was already getting popular, but dropping hints of plot into his scenes gave him an added edge and often encouraged fans of other LIs who didn’t like him, to buy his scenes.

• Anyway, since the buildup took an entire chapter, the book pushes us straight into the dressing room for this one!

• Title: A Waltz to Remember.

Alternative Title: Lizzy Turns This QT into a Kiara Gush-fest And Does Not Regret It (Even If It Gave Her Hand-Cramps).

I love how over the course of three books, this particular dance form of Cordonia has gained the importance it has. And it’s lovely how - even though we’re not meant to like Olivia at this point - our first glimpse of Cordonian culture through this dance, is in her estate.

• Hana’s silver dress makes its debut here! Honestly, I kinda would’ve liked this one a LOT better as a gown than as the bodycon it eventually became. That pleated bodice really needed a long, flowy skirt to work. I’m always going to be a little sore they made it a short bodycon instead 😑

• Okay I love both our options for the ball, okay. They’re both big, and glamorous, and make a real statement. Which is necessary, because the plan is to show Olivia up at her own home.

Winter Goddess is gorgeous - it has that vintage Hollywood feel to me, and the caption for it sounds pretty romantic (“will capture the winter moonlight”). Snowflake Sweetheart is very on-point for the whole snow/ice theme Lythikos itself has going on. I’m very fond of the crystals and the illusion sleeves on the second one….but I have to say that silk-satin one with the fur stole is the winner for me 😅

Me Back Then (on one of my million replays): If I really have to take a diamond option, I’m taking the second one. I’m cheap.

Me Now: Still cheap. I’m not spending 25 whole diamonds on another gown when there’s already a cute one free in my closet.

• Maxwell is trying hard to channel Bertrand 2.0, and is badgered enough by 1.0 over the phone to almost succeed.

• One of the formal phrases he uses is “a diamond of the first water”, a phrase you’d see very commonly in the Regency era…which kind of solidifies my belief that Regency England was one of their world building inspirations even back then.

• We don’t fully understand the kind of power the hostess can wield in her homeplace, until this sequence. On principle, Olivia is not exactly answerable to anyone, not even the royals visiting her in Lythikos - she can decide on seat arrangements, she can give instructions to the staff on who gets the best portions of the meals and who gets the worst, she can monopolize on the Prince’s time with her if she wants. And she takes full advantage of that.

• However, her being the hostess doesn’t always leave her completely free to do what she wants, without consequences. Lythikos is not just a turning point for us - it’s one for her as well. And not exactly in a good way.

• Here’s what Olivia does to sabotage us at the ball:

- seats us away from our sponsor, and away from the head table. In fact this is something she does to all the suitors - Maxwell tells us that not a single one has a place at the head table.

- seats us way back, next to a commoner who is also constantly given the same treatment - which Hana points out is meant to be viewed in the court as an insult. To an MC who is still learning the ways of the nobility, this move is pretty much a miss…but it does give us a very clear idea of how hypocritical the nobility and royalty can be. Hana is not immune to the prejudice either (seen as she does not censor the statement when she says it in front of Drake, a commoner), but she eventually grows to fiercely guard him and defend him from those kind of attitudes later on… and you can see a lot of that growth in TRH’s Walker Ranch chapters.

- has her servers give us ice-cold lobster bisque on purpose, thirty minutes after serving has begun. With no lobster in it. Remember, we’re in a wintry region where you require piping hot, creamy, fattening foods to stay warm. This isn’t just ruining a meal: Olivia is sending a clear message about how unwelcome they are, by giving them cold food devoid of the main protein, in the freezing cold of Lythikos.

- given the timing of her kiss on Liam during the waltz, she probably did that to send a message to us as well. It happens shortly after our dance with him, and from her reaction (angry, immediately establishing claim on him) to Liam’s dance with the MC, we can tell she’s more affected than she’d like to admit, and that’s what informs her actions during her second dance with him.

• Me Back Then: There is a nice option and a rude option. It’s Drake, but he’s Liam’s bff and I want to be nice.

(+ romance point)

Me Back Then:

Me Now: Romance points in Lythikos fall from Drake the way pee falls from someone with weak kegels. One tiny laugh and pssssshhhh.

• From the rude option you find out that Drake plays chess and often wins in his matches with Liam, so that’s a nice touch.

• The MC can acquire the fresh bisque for herself and her friends if she dramatically faints in front of a server. I quite like this (optional) moment because it shows her thinking on her feet and quickly ensuring she gets her way. The other options are pretty hilarious too, though, the obnoxious “do you know who I am” option comes with a Game of Thrones reference 😂

•

Me Back Then: …someone should leave Drake hungry at a party till the wee hours of the morning with access to only whiskey bottles. Whiskey for entrèe, whiskey for main, maybe we’ll be kind and give him brandy for dessert. Let’s see how far his love for whiskey goes then 😈

Me Now: Holy shit, Me Back Then, you just predicted the best scene in Book 3 🤣.

• One of my favourite TRR Tumblr posts ever, was the one where someone took a screenshot of Drake saying “I’m not one to complain about food” from this chapter, and placed a gif of Nicholas Fraser’s “Why You Always Lying” lyrics just beneath it 😄 If that isn’t the truth idk what is.

• Most of the chapter after this will focus on the Cordonian Waltz, Olivia’s little stunt and getting allies, so the buildup to Drake’s scene will happen now (and Hana’s just before we meet Drake). Hana will be dancing with Tariq, and then other partners in the meantime, so no opportunities to dance with her there.

I loved this dialogue option when I first saw it, but now that I know how much in love with dancing Maxwell is, this scene is ten times more fun! 😃

• On first playthrough…this didn’t seem like that big a problem. Maxwell was fun, and seemed to genuinely like us, and was berated a great deal by Bertrand - so it was easier then to perhaps forgive his gaffes and want to comfort him instead. But when you approach his character as someone who brought a complete foreigner to his country and then didn’t make much of an effort to educate her with what little time they both had…I wind up finding his character a lot less endearing. I’m honestly more irritated by his carelessness. There was a lot he could have done even if he forgot or didn’t know what to do. He could have asked around! Hana was right in front of him! He could have found out what to prepare for if he didn’t know or if Bertrand didn’t handhold him (which Bertrand himself isn’t exactly doing a good job of in the first place). The other LIs shouldn’t have to constantly step in and do his job as sponsor and guide!

• It’s only when we’re dancing that Maxwell realizes he’s not taught us the dance. Of course, if you bought Hana’s waltz scene, she whispers her advice just before you dance with him, and you give her credit for teaching you. If not, you go into it knowing very little (but because the options are easy to choose from, so you can still manage). Maxwell does explain its uniqueness in terms of the flirting potential and the fact that it’s a courtship dance…but the true beauty of that description only comes with Hana.

• Istg, if Hana weren’t around to repeatedly save our ungrateful asses…

• So THIS is the first opportunity you get to ‘romance’ Maxwell. He looks sad and tells you that you should only be here for the Prince, but it’s also that vague kind of sadness that you can interpret differently and write detailed fanfics about! I think a huge part of Maxwell’s appeal (besides the overall sparkling personality, and the fact that he was so different from both Liam and Drake) was the “will-he-won’t-he” nature of the LI question itself.

• We now move on to Liam, who is fighting a losing battle with his desire to favour the MC exclusively, but wants her to know that she is special to him. Notably he does say this in the “courtship” part of the dance.

• How do you know that the Cordonian Waltz was a strategic choice? Because Olivia chose to dance with Liam twice! And because she’s the hostess, it’s harder for Liam to refuse.

I remember being pretty uncomfortable with this scene the first time I saw it, I still am, and often I wonder if I’m the only one who feels that way. Whenever I see this scene being referenced, it’s often referenced in the most flippant ways. And it baffles me.

• Honestly, Olivia was clearly overstepping her boundaries here and didn’t even bother to ask Liam before doing it (Liam himself mentions he was “caught by surprise” and calls it an “unexpected advance”). Was Olivia doing it out of complex, understandable reasons? Like jealousy or frustration or showing the MC up? Well, sure I guess. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that her doing so was nonconsensual and downright wrong.

The funny thing is often this incident is either downplayed or erased completely, especially in contexts where people try to argue that Olivia “deserves better” than Liam, or sympathize with her for loving a man who “does not care about her”.

Does Olivia deserve to be loved back by a person she loves? Absolutely.

Is Liam a lesser person for not loving her back? No, and he shouldn’t have to be penalized or judged by a fandom for not doing so.

Is the fact that most people who uphold this “penalizing/blaming Liam for not returning Olivia’s feelings” argument, also tend to forget/downplay this particular incident…particularly disturbing? Well, yeah, definitely.

• Even the narrative fails with regard to this, actually. It is written in a comical style, with a couple of out-there dialogue options (like screaming loud enough of break poor Maxwell’s eardrums) and the MC is given a chance to lash out at Liam for not reacting fast enough or throwing Olivia off of him. And guess what his reaction is. Sad, contrite, trying to explain his position. It’s almost like it’s okay for him to feel guilty about something that was done TO him, that he was never asked permission for.

Olivia does suffer consequences, but more for her “power play” than for anything else. Her move isn’t viewed as negative for what it may do to Liam, it is negative because it is seen as a direct “fuck you” she is delivering to her competitors. The scene itself is written for laughs…which I’m surprised more people don’t find even a little uncomfortable.

• The reactions from the other suitors is pretty on point for their character types at this point. Madeleine is smug and condescending, confident that she will never be “unrefined or insecure” enough for such “ostentatious displays” (says the woman who will bully her entire court, run around Italy roaring drunk and name a drink after herself in Book 2). Penelope doesn’t exactly have a personality at this point, she merely comments that the kiss was a bold play. It is Kiara who points out the power dynamics involved and views it as the last straw in her waning support for Olivia.

Remember - the ladies of the court weren’t treated half as badly as we were, but they were probably more aware (than us) that they were being denied a seat at the head table, and had to put up with Olivia monopolizing Prince Liam’s time. While Kiara’s suspicions that Olivia is “mad with power” here probably aren’t too far off the mark (even though her feelings of jealousy and confusion may be involved, we can’t deny that there is a clear sense of “I’m the hostess here, I can do what I want”), it’s not just an assumption that simply stems out of nowhere.

• Maxwell sees and opportunity to gain allies, and encourages us to capitalize on it. The wrong options are pretty interesting: if you mention “slapping the smirk off Olivia’s face”, Maxwell tells you that the political equivalent would be to “attack her alliances”. If you suggest making out with Liam in public, Maxwell exclaims that doing so would lead to people gunning after you. Which is telling, because in Book 1 PDA is mostly shown as being frowned upon in Cordonian society in general. So Olivia’s very public kiss isn’t just brazen and bold to the courtly ladies, but also viewed as inappropriate and a jab at their own lack of power in this situation.

• I love that Maxwell gets the opportunity to encourage us to play politics. Love it. He is the first one to notice the change in Kiara’s attitude towards Olivia, and he recognizes that the time is ripe for us to captialize on it. While Bertrand, or Bertrand-and-Maxwell, are the ones who tell us the importance of gaining support from the press and the royals, getting the court to support us is wholly Maxwell’s idea. This added another layer to the way he was built in the story, and I’m not happy that we didn’t see a lot of that perceptiveness and skill around court later on. By Books 2 and 3, he was mostly relegated to the funny guy, the court jester. Book 1 Maxwell may make a lot of mistakes but you bet he’d be too smart to toss brushettas in the face of dignitaries at the UN. It was like his own writers forgot Maxwell was capable of more.

• OKAY SO THE KIARA SECTION IS A FAVOURITE OF MINE OKAY. And it only wound up being a favourite when I realized there were changes in her dialogue between my Esther playthrough and my Persephone one. I mean if I weren’t already a fan of her…this definitely would have converted me.

Before I get into the actual gushing…I’ll just summarize what the MC has to do to gain her approval:

- Language: Kiara is known for her proficiency with languages - it is the skill that defines her in court (to the point that you barely notice her other qualities). Her home language is French, and if you know how to respond to comment ça va she is cheerful and more willing to hear you out (if you choose the fromage answer she’ll a bit surprised but not too hostile, and if you say voulez-vous coucher avec moi, well…of course she’ll be pissed off because you just accidentally asked her to sleep with you). In any case, to gain her approval you need to respond in French.

In fact even Kiara’s goodbyes vary based on whether she becomes your ally or not. If she’s your ally, she says à bientôt before leaving (which is “see you soon”). If she’s not convinced by your arguments, she says adieu, which has more of a sense of finality to it and is often said when you don’t expect to meet again (in fact I’m surprised they had her say it) and is different from au revior (which means “until we see each other again”).

- Olivia’s Actions: Kiara reiterates to you what she’d just told the others - Olivia is on a power trip, and while Kiki is well aware that she’s not a top contender in this competition, she is not going to stand for being treated like she is lesser than the ones who do have power. Interestingly, in both Chapter 7 of Book 2 and this chapter, Kiara’s first visible signs of discontent/frustration come when both Olivia/Madeleine go on massive power trips (“she even named a drink after herself. Quelle narcissique”, Kiara says about Madeleine in the next book).

I feel like Kiara’s frustration may have already been there with Olivia’s treatment of the ladies of the court at the start of the Ball (but perhaps she may have been brushed it aside as a strategy you could expect from a noblewoman in her own estate) but it is Olivia kissing Liam and trying to establish a claim on him that is seen as the tipping point for her.

However, she’s also pretty pragmatic and is lowkey impressed with Olivia if you state that she went too far. She is irritated by the message Olivia is sending, but acknowledges that not many would have dared to do that in her place. A more neutral response works well with Kiara’s train of thought, because to her the important thing is seeing what works in the long run, and the MC has to convince her that she is a good alternative.

- Alliance: Kiara already anticipates this, since she is the one who straight-out asks this question. At this point Kiara is not exactly aiming to be Queen - she knows she is up against more powerful people, people who have more access to the royal family (perhaps her dad Hakim would have had a similar amount of access if Constantine wasn’t such a dick). She is not going to waste her time wishing for what she won’t get, when she can easily network instead. The answer that works best with her is the one where the MC speaks of Olivia’s friendship as being a one-way street where she always gets her way, which is ironic considering how the MC behaves in a likely worse manner towards Kiara in Book 3.

• One of my favourite Kiara lines is from the wrong option (“I’m nicer than Olivia”) for the Alliance segment: “Nice? Nothing about being here is nice. If I wanted nice I’d buy a teacup pig. 😡”

• Back in Books 6’s QT, I mentioned Queen Regina and Duke Bertrand as being the two people in the first book who watch out and keep track on our progress. Bertrand does it because he is our sponsor, Regina does it because after all we are one of the candidates for her stepson’s hand in marriage, and we’re the one he eventually shows the most interest in. But there is one other person who seems to be taking notice of our good performance as well:

On my fail run, where Persy doesn’t gain approval either from the press, or from the royals, those last two lines simply do not appear. She asks us about whether we’re looking for an alliance, and we immediately answer her. She will still join hands with you if you convince her (I did a test run where Persy said all the right things) but those words will not feature anywhere. Because the dialogue is coded such that it will only appear if you’ve done well in your previous two tasks.

That is fascinating to me, because Kiara is the only lady of the court who is written as noticing these things at such an early stage in the competition (the Lythikos Ball is only the third event in the social season, and the maximum approvals come from the Derby, which was the event just preceding it). She is the only person, besides Bertrand and Regina, who keeps track of our progress (even if that is only uptil this point, because if you win her support here, it stays that way until the Coronation). Even Madeleine, who has been part of a social season before and is viewed as having a lot of experience in the court, compared to the other ladies, spends most of her time simply underestimating the MC. It isn’t until Applewood and Ramsford that Madeleine even begins to think there might be more to this person.

Kiara, on the other hand, is observant. She is competitive but she knows when other people have the upper hand, and she will honestly acknowledge that you have an edge if you have proven yourself to the press and the Queen. For someone who would be seen as just a lady of the court….that level of foresight, observation skills and pragmatism is pretty phenomenal to me.

• I’ve said this many times and I will say it again: Kiara has always been upfront about what she’s bringing to the table in an alliance. She isn’t your friend and she won’t pretend to be your friend either. She mentions she will put in a good word and support you in becoming Queen, and she keeps her promise.

She keeps her distance from you otherwise, so you can’t dub her a ‘friend’ even then, but she will do her work as an ally. She doesn’t get involved in smearing your name while supporting you to your face. At the end of the day, she is a woman in the court trying to thrive and carve a space of her own, but she won’t dirty her hands to do that - and I don’t think she gets enough recognition for that.

• Alright I’ll stop gushing about Kiki otherwise this QT will never end 😂

• We now meet Liam, who tells us about the hot tub in his room, and invites us there. The intent is clearly romantic (the MC specifies as such, smiling, and Liam winks at you before he leaves).

• This chapter also marks the second time you see Penelope with Liam, after which you will only see her directly interact with him at his Coronation. Funny how Kiara doesn’t get even one opportunity in the narrative to talk to him.

• It’s the end of our big night in Lythikos, and we’ve got three invitations to spend time with an LI! Liam’s setting up candles near the hot tub, Hana is playing exquisite melodies on the piano, and Drake is drinking whiskey in Olivia’s wine cellar. Maxwell is…doing Maxwell things that we are not privy to yet. Or taking a nap.

• I won’t be going too much into detail esp for Liam and Hana’s scenes - because I have essays written on both! Both will be under the “Liam: Diamond Scenes” and “Hana: Diamond Scenes” sections of my essay masterlist if anyone is interested 😃 They will be titled “Hot Tub at Lythikos” and “Piano at the Parlour”, respectively. (another recommended read is “Exploring Hana in Her Context” where I talk about this scene, and her characterization. It’s a little further down on the masterlist).

•

(Screenshots for Drake from the HIMEME YouTube channel)

Liam: This is undoubtedly meant to be a romantic scene, and is hinted as much in the lead-up to it while still giving the MC the space to not go (since she says “I won’t make any promises”). He puts candles around the tub, and the tub itself is situated in an area where you can get a wonderful view of the mountains.

This scene is divided into two parts: the first where Liam gets to sincerely tell the MC he trusts her (optionally) and where they lightly flirt, and the second where he admits to feeling conflicted between giving in to his feelings and being fair to the other women. At this point he knows his feelings for the MC are stronger, implicitly trusts her (“I thoroughly believe that if you thought I was a pompous ass, you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me. I trust you, MC. Anything you say”), doesn’t want to call it love just yet but is well on his way to doing so. He tells us about his brother Leo, hinting at the events of the RoE series and explaining that seeing how love affected him made Liam think more about it. It’s not one of Liam’s absolute best scenes…but it is a sweet one where Liam tentatively explores his growing love for her - in some ways leading to his “almost-declaration” of love at the Forgotten Falls. In each scene of Liam’s, he takes a step further, and another, and another, to admitting his love for her and growing less guilty about his desire to be with her. He is still torn between his duty and his desire at this point, but you can already see him slowly inching towards the prospect of keeping what he wants first, for once.

Hana: This, in my mind, is Hana’s most powerful scene. As many adjectives as I can use to describe her in this scene would be inadequate, because it’s that good, that layered, that rich with nuance and detail. But I do think I can sum a bit of it up with a quote from a Book 3 Liam scene that instantly took me back to this one:

“Hana’s a tough one. She’s clearly had the kind of lessons I’m giving you now, and then some. Her posture is almost always polite and attentive…but when she feels strongly about something, you can sense her real feelings even before she speaks up. Her eyes grow darker and more serious.”

Compare the scenes from last chapter where she speaks about ice-skating, or even waltzing, to this one. In both those scenes, her expression is mostly neutral (or joyful when she is imparting her knowledge), speaking of it in a way that makes you understand that her heart isn’t truly in doing those things. But in this one, she is lost in her music when she plays it, she is feeling its melody in her bones, she speaks of guarding her most precious skill fiercely against her parents’ control because it’s the one thing she wants for herself. She is fierce and passionate and absolutely beautiful in the way she expresses her love for music.

In an essay I did on exploring Hana’s character in her larger context, I spoke at length about how this scene is important because it highlights that her struggle for her own autonomy began at a very young age - she recognized her art as sacred to her and had the foresight to understand that parading it around the way her parents wanted her to, would make her love it less. This scene is amazing because Young Hana is described as pushing back in the only way she knew how, so she could keep what was hers, on her terms.

The other thing this scene explores is her childhood loneliness and lack of friends, and how music helped her in those difficult times too. At this point we now know how deep that loneliness was, and how damaging to her, but back then this scene gave a wonderful insight to Childhood Hana.

So for her to trust us with her art - with the art she fought to keep her own…that’s a tremendous leap in that relationship - whether the MC is a friend or a potential lover. Romantically, she is at the point where she is slowly…slowly getting comfortable with the MC’s touch, allowing it to linger before she pulls away from her. She’s a bit like a butterfly who doesn’t know yet if she’s ready to leave her cocoon.

Drake: The picture presented to us of Drake here is the diamond-in-the-rough, the underdog, the one who views court and palace differently from everyone around him. He is there to remind us that this is not the charmed place we think it is, that even friends can stick knives in our backs. He speaks of the forced politeness of the nobility, the fact that he’s here only to protect Liam, that the MC is an innocent woman who doesn’t know what she is getting into and needs protection as well.

This scene comes with what was regarded as an important plot point at the time: who almost sold pictures of Liam’s bachelor party to the press? Drake and Bastien managed to get hold of them and prevent them from being published, knowing that having those printed before the social season would cast Liam in a more negative light, and make things harder for him. At this point, Drake is sure that someone he knows and possibly considers a friend is involved (close enough, but not quite there yet), but can’t yet figure out who (because, yknow, Olivia was the brains between the two, she cracked that mystery in under five minutes or something).

If you don’t buy this scene, you only get to know about the pictures in Book 2 Chapter 4. A lot of Drake’s scenes involve important plot points - some of which we won’t even hear the same way - or at all - if we don’t buy the scene (eg. the flashback scenes about Hana’s return and the Italian restaurant scene about Liam’s assassination). I recall buying quite a few of his scenes in the latter half of Book 1 and most of Book 2 just to find out stuff about other LIs.

The scene is pretty sweet - it highlights his now-famous whiskey obsession, has Drake openly show his protectiveness towards her minus the jaded sarcastic veneer, and has him warn her about the nature of this court. It has a line that I quite liked when I first saw the scene, but that fandom has pretty much ruined for me - “the moments in between”. Where he speaks of how the nobility are so busy schmoozing and being superficial that they miss the really important parts. It’s a beautiful thought, but the fact is I’m still paying like 17 diamonds to get it, which makes it a…pretty expensive moment.

But overall…it’s a nice scene. The look and feel of it is different from the other two, and so is the purpose.

• The focus of all these three scenes is clearly trust.

Liam completely trusts her opinion of him and confesses openly his desire to let go of all that is holding him back, even though he is still confused and conflicted about his own feelings.

Hana trusts her so much, that she will share piano pieces that she lovingly composed to the MC, even though she never performs for people. It is a measure of how much Hana values the MC that she will share such a secret part of herself with her.

Drake, who once came this close to calling the MC a crown chaser, now views the same woman as an innocent who doesn’t know what she is getting into. He will later tell her that that aspect of her journey reminds him of Savannah. He trusts the MC enough to give her important information about something he still views as a possible plot targeted at Liam, and tells her their moments mean something to him.

Chapter 8 of the second book took this theme forward for the initial three LIs, by showing us trust in other forms. Liam’s firm belief in his father’s dedication to his nation (which will crumble soon). Drake’s being convinced by the MC to stay on and hear out his sister, to give her a chance to explain what really happened to her, and his emotional reunion with her. Hana’s scene…was more about gaining someone’s trust - particularly Penelope’s. (it is also one of the worst scenes the series has ever given an LI, whoever wrote that one can fall on a cactus).

We are approaching a midpoint in the story, so at this point the narrative is progressing each of these relationships towards the point where they trust this woman, view her as a valuable person in their lives, and inch ever-so-slightly towards that eventual realization that they are in love with her.

•

Another point in the Tariq shoe tally!! I wonder if this ‘ghost’ deals with 'future misdeeds’ as well…

• We spend a few more days in Lythikos before we move back to the Capitol for the Royal Regatta, and both Esther and Persy are like “YOU HAD A FEW DAYS TO ASK IF I KNEW WHAT A FUCKING REGATTA WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MAXWELL”.

• So…a lot happens this chapter. The MC begins to rope in (or not) her first allies in the court, she has a strong foothold by now and is beginning to get noticed as more than just a random contender who wouldn’t last, she gains the trust of the people she is growing close to.

But most of all…Lythikos is where Olivia begins to lose the hold she once had on the court, and this is never more apparent than if you are losing supporters rather than gaining them (if you are more popular, it won’t be that apparent, since you will move far ahead of the competition). There will be times when the press may not pay attention to her, there will be ladies who club the MC and Olivia both together as “not a proper fit for becoming a queen”. She is still very much a frontrunner, she may win the Regatta if you fail all the steps to the boat race, but after this it will be harder for her to gain support whether or not the MC succeeds.

Shortly after this point, Olivia also doesn’t antagonize the MC as blatantly as she did in Lythikos, save for a snide remark to the MC (with a life jacket of all things) if you choose to go to her yacht in the next chapter. She will eventually begin to thaw towards you in Applewood.

• Constantine and Regina are conspicuous by their absence this chapter, and Constantine announces that he is stepping down the next. Which probably means he found out sometime between the Masque and this event that he was ill (since we don’t see him at the Derby). I’m headcanoning that they visited Leo around this time (optionally with the RoE MC, since the housewarming party in Newlyweds seems to happen sometime around the social season (it could be earlier or later too…but humour me 😂)

• So…Regatta in Chapter 9! Lots of sun, fun and (Persephone-willing) PLENTY of mess.

• Before I sign of, here is Persy’s Share of Mess this chapter (except for the bloodcurdling scream she gives when Olivia kisses Liam, I forgot to screenshot that 🙈 How on earth did Maxwell’s poor ears survive??):