#that I thought life would be bearable after college but not having an end point or achievable goal fucked me

[pigaletta]

.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you’re harry’s assistant and harry needs to open his eyes.

a/n: ASSISANT!YN has finally arrived! this took me three weeks and a half to write, so please enjoy and kindly rb with feedback! i’ve had this concept in mind for SO long, and i’m proud of it! this is also inspired by my love for the barcelona pic, pictured on the left, that I think about on the daily along with some thoughts in a dressing room! also picture on the right at the final show is an aspect in the story as well!

also big thank you to my bestie @stylesloveclub for screaming and hyping this up for me while I rave about it, ily!

enjoy a long slowburn of 26.3k words of a friends to lovers fic that’s filled with angst and some smut! genuinely be ready for the angst hehe

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALKING ABOUT WANT YOU HERE! i’d love to know your thoughts and feedback!

pls rb to share! <3

16 December 2017

The smell of fresh flowers brought allergies to your senses as you shuffled and continuously rubbed your nose with a tissue. 

You were at the flower shop with two bouquets in your hands as you debated which bundle to get. You were given specific instructions to find a bouquet that’s full and big with the color white being the dominant color of the bouquet, and your options were a white orchid bunch, which weren’t your personal favorite, but it was one of the white bouquets, and your other option was a white lilac bouquet with a couple of white roses and baby’s breath around the large lilacs. 

“Do you need help choosing a bouquet?” The lady that was named Vicky asked. She had an expression of curiosity as she was probably wondering if you were going to buy anything since you’ve been standing in the corner for quite some time as you tried choosing which bouquet to get. 

“Oh, no. Thank you,” you replied back with a smile, and she nodded her head, walking away to help another customer, but you knew she was going to be back to ask you again in the next ten minutes if you don’t make your mind up right now. 

After another three minutes of deciding, you opted for the white lilac bouquet, and headed to the cashier. You gave the employee your number for rewards since you were at the flower shop quite a lot that you’ve managed to rack up some points in order to get a free bouquet. Once you paid and were on your way, your phone rang in your purse. Struggling to reach for it as you were holding the big bouquet and a few shopping bags, you moved to the side to set your paper bags down on the ground, and quickly grabbed your phone so it won’t go to voicemail. 

“Hey,” you answered cheerfully, knowing exactly who it was. 

“Hi there. Where are you?” The voice from the other end asked. 

“I just left the flower shop—should be there soon.” 

“Okay, perfect. Thank you for everything.” 

“Harry, you don’t need to thank me every single time,” you chuckled. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job.” 

“I know, I know. It’s just…I’m grateful for what you do,” he said thankfully. 

“I know, and I’m grateful for having this job and working for you. So, thank you also.” 

“Look who’s saying thank you now,” he joked, and you laughed. “But I’ll see you soon. Walk back safely, please,” he said, bidding you goodbye. 

“Always do. See you,” you hung up the phone, picking up the shopping bags, and walking towards Harry’s place. 

You’ve been Harry’s assistant for quite some time now; exactly two years. You started working for him when you were both twenty one, and he had just gone separate ways from the band. Harry was in the midst of writing his very first album and planning his first world tour as a solo artist in smaller theatre venues, and desperately needed an assistant to do some basic errands and remind him of his scheduling. Luckily as Glenne’s friend, you were in need of a job. You were fresh out of college as you had your bachelor’s in public relations, and being friends with someone who’s boyfriend is in the industry has its perks. 

Glenne had immediately recommended you once Jeff mentioned that Harry was looking for an assistant, and since Jeff had met you a handful of times, he told Glenne to call you in for an interview, but somewhat knowing that he was going to hire you already since Harry desperately needed one and you were a friend. 

When you walked into the interview, you were greeted by Jeff and Harry. That was your first time meeting Harry, and you were quite shocked that he was a real person. Of course you were a fan of him, and you were still surprised whenever Glenne talked about him, but when you saw him for the first time, you immediately thought that he was more gorgeous in reality. 

“So nice to meet you,” Harry said, shaking your ring filled hand. The coolness of his metal rings met your shaky hands, and sparks had immediately shocked your body. 

“Great to meet you too. I love your shirt,” you complimented. He was wearing a bright blue button down shirt with a cherry blossom print on it with a white t-shirt underneath along with some black skinny jeans and brown boots. 

“Thank you. Your trousers are very nice,” he said back, looking down at your pants. You were wearing burnt orange corduroy pants with a white semi turtleneck blouse with a pussybow tie on it, along with some black booties. “Actually, I love your whole outfit,” he added, and you chuckled, trying to hide your blush. 

Never in a million years would you have thought you would meet Harry, let alone Harry complimenting your entire outfit. You’re really living the dream. 

The interview went extremely well and only lasted about thirty minutes. The first ten minutes were some generic interview questions because they still had to keep it professional, but the last twenty minutes consisted of asking about your interests and simply getting to know you because you would spend most of your time with Harry. 

At the end of the interview, it was quite obvious Jeff and Harry knew they wanted to hire you. They loved your personality and how you made jokes, especially how you laughed at Harry’s jokes, which he thought was a very important aspect of being his assistant. 

Jeff exited the room, telling you he would be right back, but really he went into his office to grab some paperwork for you to sign. That left you and Harry in the conference room alone as you made conversation with him about university. You also told him that you were a fan of his, which you thought was a mistake to tell him because you’re sure he doesn’t want a crazy fan to be his assistant and practically have access to his personal life, but he said gratefully said thank you, and asking if you had a favorite song off new released album. Your favorites off his album were ‘Only Angel’ and ‘From the Dining Table.’ 

“Good picks,” he teased. 

“I would hope they’re good picks. It is your album,” you teased back, making him laugh, and he thought that it was a great choice making you his assistant. 

Once Jeff was back, he opened a folder, taking out various paperwork before Harry broke the news and told you that he’d love for you to be his assistant. You hadn’t expected to be hired on the spot, or be hired in general, but there you were, reading over the contracts and signing your name at the bottom of the last page along with the date. Jeff and Harry both shook your hands, telling you that they were excited for you to be along with the ride, and you told them that you were excited as well. 

You had thanked Glenne a million times for getting you an interview, and till this day, you always made sure to thank her because one mention of your name had gotten you an opportunity and a well paying job that you actually really loved. 

Harry also made the job bearable; not truly treating you as only an assistant, but rather a friend who helps a lot. Throughout the years of knowing each other, you and Harry had grown quite close. With always being around him, it was like hanging out with him, and you were thankful for that because you were sure no other job would feel like this. Harry also doesn’t give you difficult tasks either. He just has you go on coffee runs or run to the store to grab him something, but the most work you’ve had to do for him was to call several people on his guest list for a party he was hosting last year or write out his whole schedule for the entirety of the year. But nothing strenuous that would leave you frustrated with him. 

He would also make sure everything that he assigns you to do is okay for you to do, and you really appreciated that, but you would do anything for that man. 

You stood in front of Harry’s door, setting your bags down onto the floor before you reached into your purse to grab your keys where a spare key to Harry’s place hung on the metal ring. Before your hand could even find them, the door swung open revealing Harry smiling at you, looking impeccably sharp in his suit, which caused your heart to flutter. 

“Ah, thought I heard you. Here, let me help you,” he grabbed the shopping bags from the ground and the flowers from your hands, leaving you empty handed as you followed behind him into his home. “Thank you for getting these. I’ve just been so busy lately,” he thanked once again as he did on the phone. 

“Yeah, I know. Afterall, I am your assistant,” you teased, and he laughed as he studied the bouquet. 

“This is a lovely bouquet. Good pick,” he said, and your mind immediately goes back to when he said that to you for the first time at your interview. He said it quite often as you ultimately always make the decisions when he asks you to go out and grab something for him. 

“I thought so too. Also,” you opened one of the shopping bags, taking out the garment bag before unzipping the entire thing, “I got the exact dress you asked for, and get this: it was the last one in her size. Lucky man, you are, Harry Styles,” you handed him the Yves Saint Laurent black dress so he could get a better look at it, and he held it up, smiling. 

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much, angel,” he said, and you slightly blushed from the pet name that you would never get used to. 

Harry started calling you ‘angel’ when you were two months into working for him. With all the work you do for him, the pet name had slipped out, but it stuck once he kept calling you that. You loved it--a lot, and you hoped that one day, he wouldn’t forget to call you that because you would miss the simple name coming out of his mouth very much. Plus, it was fitting because your favorite song of his is ‘Only Angel.’

“Are you excited for tonight?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I am. It’s been a while since I’ve properly taken her out on a date, so I’m stoked for it. Pretty sure she is too.” Harry had a busy schedule. With being involved in interviews and promo for his upcoming tour, he was a busy man, which you knew of course. But it had affected his personal life greatly. 

“Well, I’m happy if you are. I hope she loves the dress,” you said painfully. 

“She will. She’s been talking about it for a while now. I just hope she didn’t go buying it without telling me because that would be really awkward once I tell her to go change into this,” he chuckled softly, and you joined him, agreeing. Harry quickly checked the time on his phone as it read 6:30 p.m, and he carefully placed the dress back into the garment bag and zipped it up. He grabbed the bouquet of flowers and his wallet on the counter. “I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don’t leave now. Lock up for me if you decide not to stay, yeah?” You nodded, walking him to the door as if it were your house. “Oh!” He turned back around because he had forgotten something, and you were holding up his keys already, and he chuckled. “Thanks again. You’re a lifesaver. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he leaned in to give you a brief kiss to your cheek, which he has done often, and you waved at him. 

“Have fun tonight! Call me if you need anything,” you called out from his front door and he waved the flowers as a sign of goodbye before getting into his car. You watched him reverse out of his driveway and drive off to his girlfriend’s house. 

With a sigh, you closed the door, looking around at what needs to be done. Harry’s place was relatively clean. He just had some things laying around on random surfaces, and you think that was probably because he was in a hurry, so he just placed them on the nearest surface. If Harry were here, he would probably tell you that cleaning up his own mess was so unnecessary and that he doesn’t expect you to, but you know that he’s grateful you’re doing it anyways. 

You were silent as you tidied up his house, putting things back in his closet, and washing the bowl of yogurt and fruit he eats in the morning. It was an unnerving silence, and you just wanted to make any kind of noise just to fill the quietness that was slowly eating you away. You grabbed one of his shirts off the ground that slipped off the hanger, and you brought it up to your nose. His scent filling your senses as you closed your eyes, taking his smell in. You inhaled enough to practically take away his entire scent that was left on his shirt to fill the satisfaction in your body as you pretended he was close. 

As you did that, you uncontrollably sobbed into the material, letting out a heartbroken cry as you covered your face with his shirt. You slowly sank down to the floor, completely sitting down on the cold tiles. The sudden outbreak of your cries weren’t new; they had made their appearance when he left for dates or after he was done talking about someone he liked. When you would go out to the store and grab things he wants gifted. When he would call you angel while he was with the devil who was keeping you two apart. 

Once you calmed down a bit, you thought about how hugging his shirt was the closest you would get to him as you wished you were the lucky person he would be greeting them with his presence and a pretty batch of flowers, but he doesn’t even know your favorite flower.

It was the next day, and you woke up in the comfort of your own bed. 

You had taken an Uber home around ten p.m the night prior as you figured Harry was still on his date and perhaps wouldn’t be coming home till later. So, after watching a movie on his couch and having dinner, you turned off all of the lights and locked up as you headed to your place for what you hope is a relaxing night. 

A weird feeling had taken over you as you got ready for bed and it felt strange. You knew you weren’t yourself, and you hated that. The outburst of your crying was long forgotten as you climbed into bed and slept the day away. 

Once you had woken up from your deep slumber, your charged phone was ringing with your text tone. Groaning, you stretched your body from the tenseness from your sleep before you reached for your phone, unplugging the charger. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a bit as the brightness of your phone was straining to your vision. When your sight had cleared up, you were greeted with various messages from Jeff, asking if you had heard from Harry or if you’ve seen him. Going to Harry’s message, you hadn’t received anything, so you texted Jeff back and told him that he hadn’t contacted you and the last time you saw him was last night. Jeff immediately texted back, asking you if you could kindly go to his place and check if he was there, and you instantly said yes, a bit worried as Jeff seemed to be worried as well. 

You got out of bed for the day, not wanting to leave, but knowing you had responsibilities, you got ready for the day, doing your normal hygienic routine.

 It was Sunday, and usually on Sundays, you didn’t have much work to do since it was Harry’s day off as well. That is, if it’s not on tour, he gets a nice little day to himself. So, you chose a comfy outfit—one where you wouldn’t sweat so much as you walked to Harry’s house in the summer heat. You opted for a big t-shirt and pairing it with black biker shorts, and some sneakers. With one last look in the mirror, you were out the door and headed to Harry’s house. 

The day was beautiful as the sun was out and the sky was blue. Rarely any clouds to overcast the sun, and there was a slight breeze in the air, making the walk more bearable so you wouldn’t sweat all that much. 

Once you got to Harry’s house, fortunately, it wasn’t that far of a walk from where you live, you unlocked the door and walked in. 

“Harry?” You called out, looking around the living area. His shoes that he normally wears out are by the couch, so he should be somewhere. He might still be asleep, you think. You walk up the stairs to his room, knocking lightly before entering. And what you saw was something you wanted to erase from your memory forever. “Oh, fuck! Sorry!” You immediately slammed the door as you stood still outside of his room, in disbelief of what you just saw. 

You had just witnessed Brooke giving Harry head. They were both obviously naked, and her actions were on full display too because the bed faced the door and Brooke was on the side of Harry rather than in front of him as she had his dick down her throat, and of course, Harry had his head back, simply enjoying it because what guy wouldn’t. 

You heard shuffling through the door, and that took you out of your spaced out mind; quickly walked down the stairs and to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water, feeling yourself get flustered from how bare Harry was in front of you. 

“God, does she ever learn how to fucking knock?” You heard Brooke faintly say as they both walked down the stairs, most likely thinking you didn’t hear, but you definitely did as her voice echoed throughout the whole fucking house. “Hey, girl,” she smiled once they both made it to the kitchen, and it was the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. No wonder she’s a good actress, you think. 

“Hi,” you said back, sipping your glass of water as you avoided eye contact with Harry. 

“Hi. What are you doing here? Do I have to be somewhere today?” He greeted, but immediately asked questions as if you were invading his privacy and day off. You looked at him very briefly, but remained your sight on his marble counter. 

“Uh, no. Jeff told me to come here and check on you; said that he hadn’t heard from you, so he was worried,” you explained, glancing up and Harry nodded. 

“Oh, okay. The last time I talked to him was before I left, but I hadn’t checked my phone since. Was it anything urgent?” You shook your head, realizing Jeff never really explained why he needed Harry, but you brushed it off. 

“He bought me this lovely bouquet of flowers and a pretty dress for dinner!” Yeah, I know. I was the one who got them, you thought. “Then he took me out on a boat ride, and we came back here-”

“Spare me the details? I already know all of this. I am his assistant afterall,” you said in a not so friendly tone, interrupting her and not wanting to know the details of what happens in his bedroom that entails Brooke. Usually, you weren’t so harsh to anyone, but you had a reason to be a bit stern with Brooke because she bites back. Unfortunately for her, you bite back even harder. 

Harry and Brooke have been dating for what seems like forever, but it’s really only been about six months. You tried being nice to her--you really tried, giving her your patience, but every time you see her, she would act cold towards you. Of course not in front of Harry because he thinks she’s an absolute saint, but she was the complete opposite of that. She was the devil and you were the angel. But of course, Harry doesn’t see that. 

Brooke gives you a harsh look, rolling her eyes a bit as Harry grabbed a glass of water for both of them. She turns to him, giving him a big smile before reaching up to kiss his lips, knowing exactly what she was doing in front of you. She then took a sip of her water, hugging Harry before she said, “I gotta go. Have a meeting at ten. I’ll call you?” Harry nodded, walking her to the front door, giving her one last kiss before she was off and Harry shut the door. You scoffed to yourself as you watched them, rolling your eyes in a way to attempt to hide your pain. 

Harry walked back to the kitchen, leaning on the counter, matching your stance. 

“I’m sorry you had to walk in on us-”

“Harry, it’s fine. I should’ve waited before I knocked,” you tried to get rid of the thought of seeing Brooke’s mouth on Harry. That was the first time you’ve walked in on him like that--fully bare on the bed while in action. Brooke was probably his first serious girlfriend in years, but he’s had some one night stands here and there, which he called you in the morning to pick him up. It wasn’t your preferred task to do because of the pain you would always feel when you would see him walk out of the house he just slept in, but then again, he is your boss. 

It was a bit quiet between you two, and Harry thinks that it’s because you practically saw his dick on full display. Partially it was for that reason, but it was also the way Brooke would treat you almost every time she sees you. Harry thinks back to when Brooke was in the house, and he could practically feel the anger from you when she was there. 

“You know, you could be a little nicer to her,” he stated, recalling what you said to Brooke and how you said it. 

“Well, she could be nicer to me in general,” you raised your brows, waiting for what he has to say about that. 

“She is nice to you. She always talks about wanting to invite you places, but she comes back sad because you’re always so quick to turn her down.”

“Brooke has never invited me anywhere. In fact, she’s never said a word to me unless you were there,” Except for that time a couple of months ago when you two had a little chat that ended up with you in tears at the end of the night. You laughed as you were in disbelief that she would actually lie to Harry that she actually wanted to be friends with you. 

“What? No. She’s always talking about wanting to get to know you more, but you just shut her down,” Harry’s brows furrowed, and you laughed even more. “W-What’s so funny?”

“Harry, you would know if she would have talked to me because I would’ve told you, but your girlfriend has never mentioned anything other than…” you trailed off as you stopped laughing, not wanting to overstep or overshare some of things that Brooke has really said to you. 

“Other than what?” He noticed that you cut yourself off. 

“Maybe ask her if you wanna know. I gotta get going,” you said, brushing it off as if it didn’t matter to you as you avoided his suspicious eyes while you headed for the door. “Make sure to call Jeff too. Oh, uh,” you turned around to find him following you to the front door, “Did you need me to do anything for you while I’m here?” You asked, still knowing that he was your boss. 

“Oh, hmm, no. Don’t think so. Enjoy your day,” he said, and you got off of his doorstep.

“Bye, H-,” you were interrupted by the sound of his door closing. You raised your brows in confusion as Harry never really interrupted you, especially not like that. He would usually wait for you to get in your car and pull out of the driveway, but he didn’t even wait for you whatsoever. 

You tried not to make it a big deal because you figured he was frustrated and probably a bit pissed that you weren’t so nice to Brooke, but how could you cover up her lie like that especially if she was so mean to you? You grew some thick skin when you first started working for Harry, and that meant that you learned how to stand up for yourself no matter who is talking to you, not even Harry’s girlfriend. 

You groaned; on the topic of Harry’s girlfriend: how could he possibly think she’s a nice person? She put up such an act in front of him, and whenever he’s not around, that act is the complete opposite. 

When will he realize what’s right in front of him? That’s been right in front of him for years now. You were tired of meeting his new love interests and picking him up from other people’s houses when he could be at yours without worrying about going anywhere or leaving because the morning would be spent cuddling and making breakfast together. Oh, how you envied the people he got to hold onto tight and freely kiss as you wished for those lips to land on you as he called you angel. 

The thought was driving you insane because you wouldn’t dare tell him whatsoever. Afterall, he was your boss and it would be awkward if he didn’t feel the same way. But you think he would never see you in that way, so you keep your mouth shut and hold your heart close as you just go with the flow despite the pain you feel. 

20 December 2017

Harry was laying on his back breathless as Brooke collapsed right next to him, deeply sighing as she tried catching her breath. 

“How does it get better every single time?” She giggled as she was in a post orgasmic state. She shifted so she was laying into Harry’s side, cuddling him as he wrapped his arm around her. He smiled, kissing the top of her head. Brooke’s hand roamed his chest as it was her way of showing that she would like to go for another round. 

She started kissing his chest and his neck, and Harry wasn’t opposed to the idea, but the sound of his phone vibrating on his bedside table had killed the mood. 

“Don’t answer it, please. Want you again,” she sat up slightly and buried her head more into his neck as she kissed and sucked his skin. He was so close to listening to her, trying to block out the sound of his phone, but as it kept vibrating, he realized he couldn’t ignore it. 

“M’sorry,” he sat up causing Brooke to pull away as she groaned, laying on her side of the bed. Harry picked up his phone and Brooke had a little peek at who was texting him. He had changed your contact name from your name to your nickname ever since he started calling you ‘angel,’ and it’s been the same ever since. He loved it; it added a little flare and he would always smile when he sees your contact name pop up on his phone. 

“Does she always have to make an appearance at the worst times? Or in general?” She asked, but the last part was definitely muttered under her breath as Harry was too focused on reading your texts. Harry had sent out a text  a few hours after you left on Sunday, saying that he was sorry for being rude and practically slamming the door on you. You had texted back saying that it was okay, and that you were sorry for being rude to him too. There were no rude remarks towards him, but your tone had said otherwise, and you knew that you could’ve handled that conversation better. 

My Angel: Hi, H. I was wondering if you wanted to do some suit fittings before you leave to go back home or after? Let me know so I can tell Lambert and Harris. 

“Sorry. She’s just wondering if I’m available to do some suit fittings for the upcoming tour,” he said to Brooke before texting you back. 

H: Preferably after the holidays. We’ll do it right at the beginning of January. 

“Isn’t she your assistant? Why doesn’t she just schedule it already?” She asked cluelessly. 

It wasn’t like Brooke was stupid. No, she was smart. But there were some things that didn't click for her, which makes Harry and anyone have to explain things twice. She would usually have her assistant do everything for her without confirmation, and Brooke would just go with it.

“Well, I still have to approve of it, love. Can’t just book me without me knowing,” he chuckled slightly. 

My Angel: Okay, perfect. I scheduled the fitting for January 4th. That’s okay right? I know you’ll be back before New Years, so I just wanna make sure. 

He always loved how you were so cautious about everything. Sure, he wanted you to let loose sometimes and not take everything so seriously, but you two were a perfect team because you need to keep him in check sometimes, but you did let loose and have fun off the clock. 

H: Yeah, should be good. Thank you, angel. xx

My Angel: That’s what I’m here for! You don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow before you leave. Do you wanna get some coffee before your flight? Say at 8?

He smiled down at your text. Brooke noticed, which made her furrow her eyebrows in confusion, so she started rubbing his back and his stomach as she tried getting a look at his text messages. Once she saw a bit of it, she climbed on Harry’s lap. 

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow before you leave? I’m gonna miss you,” she pouted slightly, and Harry had only glanced up at her very briefly before looking back down at his phone as he was in the middle of responding to your question. 

H: Sure! That’d be great. The usual spot?

My Angel: Yes, the usual :) see you then, H! 

He grinned before locking his phone and placing it back on the bedside table. He looked up at Brooke who was impatiently waiting for him to give her attention as she had her arms crossed. 

“Well?” 

“Oh, sorry I’m actually getting coffee with Y/N,” he frowned slightly, somewhat feeling bad rejecting her offer. 

“You don’t wanna see me before you leave?” She asked in an annoyed tone, getting off his lap to sit beside him on the bed. 

“W-What?” He said in disbelief. “You’ve been sleeping over since Saturday. That’s why we planned for you to stay here until I leave right?” He stated obviously. They clearly talked about her sleeping over after their date on Saturday until he leaves to go back home for the holidays. So, he’s wondering if she’s missed something or she’s just acting like this to get a rise out of him. 

“You think four days is enough? You’re gonna be gone for two weeks until I have to see you again, and you would rather spend your time-” 

“Four days is a really long time! And I’m seeing you for New Years. I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Harry got off the bed and pulled on his boxers. 

“I’m just saying…she’s already your assistant. Why do you have to spend so much time with her?” Brooke asked as she got under the covers as she watched Harry pull on his sweatpants. 

“She’s also my best friend. Where is all of this coming from? Are you jealous or what?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and Harry furrowed his brows. 

“Please. Like I could ever be jealous of her. All I’m saying is that I just want to spend all the time I can get before you leave, or I can go with you back home…” she suggested, and Harry perked up. 

“What? You want to come with me?” She nodded eagerly as she smiled. 

“Yeah, why not? We can spend the holidays together, and it’ll be fun. What do you say?” She crawled over to the edge of the bed where Harry was standing, and she sat on her knees as she looked up. 

They’ve been dating for six months, and Harry hadn’t introduced her to his family. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her or he was embarrassed that he’s dating her, but that was a really big commitment that needed a lot of thought put into it. Meeting the family is just a big step for him, and although his family has met his previous partners, that was when they were still friends and not together. But with Brooke, it all happened so fast that his family had never met her when they were friends or hooking up. They obviously know he’s dating someone, but to bring them home? Especially on Christmas? He wasn’t ready for that. 

“Maybe some other time. I’ll talk to them to see if they want to come over here for my birthday or something,” he rejected her suggestion. Home was just something so vulnerable to him that he wouldn’t just bring anyone. 

Brooke sighed deeply, “Okay, I’ll hold you to that,” she said, impatient that she hasn’t met his family yet, but he’s met hers. “How about I come with you tomorrow morning to get coffee?” She looked at him as she pleaded with her eyes. 

He knew that you wanted to spend time with him before the holidays and he wanted to as well. But Brooke obviously wanted to see you as much as possible now that he’s denied her suggestion of coming home with him, but she had been sleeping over for the past four days, which Harry thinks is enough time. 

“I’m sorry, but no,” he said as it came out more like a question as he didn’t want to seem rude by saying no to her. Throughout the months of dating Brooke, he learned that she hates when people say no. Obviously, it’s fine when he says no to sex, but he could tell that it really frustrates her. “I haven’t seen her in a few days because I’ve been with you the whole time, so I think it’ll be good to catch up with her before I leave,” he smiled lightly, trying to make light of the room. 

“Sure. Have fun,” she said sarcastically before heading to the restroom. 

Harry sighed, grabbing his duffel bag from the closet before he started packing. He was simply just excited to see you tomorrow and his family over the holidays. 

21 December 2017

You waved over at Harry once you saw him standing at the entrance of the coffee shop. Harry walked over to you with a beaming grin as he looked incredibly handsome. He wore black circular sunglasses that sat on his nose, a blue hawaiian shirt with a gray t-shirt underneath as a brown coat was thrown over his body. He wore his famous black skinny jeans and his famous brown Yves Saint Laurent boots that you know he has a whole collection of. His hair looked amazing as he recently cut it a week ago, and it’s starting to grow out a bit as the ends of his hair started to curl. 

As he was close enough, you snapped yourself out of your trance of checking him out before you stood up, giving each other a hug and a cheek to cheek kiss. 

“How are you, angel?” He asked, taking his coat off before taking a seat, and setting his coat down on the chair next to him. 

“I’m good. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and ordered for us. Should be out soon.” You had gotten Harry an iced black coffee, and despite the weather, he was always up for an iced beverage, especially when it came to his coffee; and you had ordered him a coffee cake--the coffee house’s specialty. 

“Of course not. Thank you. So, you’re going back home right?” He asked, placing his arms on the table. Right as he asked, the drinks and food had arrived and you waited for the barista to leave before you answered. 

“I might,” you said, taking a sip from the coffee mug. 

“What do you mean you might? Told me that you were going,” he furrowed his brows in confusion because you two had just had this conversation the other week, and you were excited to go back home. 

Home was in Oregon for you, and you moved out when you were eighteen to go to school in New York. It had always been your dream of moving to the big city, and although you loved Oregon, New York had made space for you to have a home as well. 

“I mean, I was. But you know how I’m saving to buy a house right? Well, flights are expensive, especially when it’s around this time,” you explained. 

“I can always-” 

“No, no. Before you go saying that you’re going to buy me a ticket, don’t even waste your breath because I’m not taking it,” you shook your head, and Harry chuckled. 

“C’mon, please? I know how excited you were to go back home. Don’t want you to be alone during the holidays,” he pouted as he cut into his coffee cake. 

“I told mom the situation, so they might come here for a change, but not definite yet--was just a suggestion. But honestly, I don’t think they will because it might be too late and all that, y’know how they are,” you chuckled, knowing how late your family will be if things happen last minute. “Don’t worry though. Glenne asked if I could take care of Penny, and I said yes if I’m not going home,” you said, smiling at the thought of the shih tzu that Glenne and Jeff own. 

“I mean, you can always come home with me,” he put it out there, and your eyes perked up. 

“W-What? No. I can’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s not like I would be buying you a plane ticket either. We’ll be using the jet,” he smiled lightly as if there were no meaning behind his words. 

“God, you just don’t know how rich you are--saying shit about your own fucking jet,” you teased, and he laughed loudly. 

“But really. Think about it. Mum would love to see you again and I know Gems has so much to catch you up on,” he said, taking a sip from his straw. 

You had met Anne and Gemma several times as they often visited sometimes or you would fly home with Harry and hang out with them while he’s working. They were a lovely family, if not, your second family, you would say. They were the kindest people you’ve ever met, and you’re so grateful that Harry was raised by great people surrounding him. 

“Really, H. Thank you, but I’m going to pass that up. I’ll probably just suck it up and buy a plane ticket,” you scoffed slightly at your indecisiveness. 

“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, which you have practically a day to figure it out, let me know and I’ll see what I could do with the jet going back here,” he said with a smile, wanting you to have choices rather than being stuck at home all alone during the holidays. 

“Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it.” 

The rest of the hours spent at the coffee spot was filled with conversation and laughter. Luckily, Brooke wasn’t one of the topics during your time together, and you were glad for it. Harry was also happy you didn’t mention Brooke either because he just wanted his mind to rest during his vacation, and not to say that he doesn’t like her, but it can be a bit stressful to communicate things with sometimes. 

“Oh, you have to head to the airport already,” you said, looking at your phone and realizing that he has about two hours to head to the airport. “Do you have everything packed?” You asked as you two stood up from your seats and put your coats on. Harry put on his sunglasses, hopefully a way to avoid the curious eye of the public. Luckily when you two were having coffee, no one approached him, but there were some looks made towards you two, but none of them walked up to the table. 

“Yeah, you have my shirts right?” 

“Yup. They’re in my car.” Once you two made it outside, you were parked on the curb and Harry’s car was about three cars behind you. You took Harry’s shirts out from the backseat that were folded very nicely and ironed. You had borrowed a couple of shirts from him when you would sleepover and had forgotten to give them back to him, but Harry said it was fine for you to keep until he needed them. “Alright, here you go. Don’t need anything else before you leave right?” 

“Actually, if you’re not busy doing anything, do you want to drop me off at the airport? I can call ahead of time and tell them that my driver isn’t going to take me, so we have access to the back,” he said with hopeful eyes. 

“Oh okay, sure,” you smiled softly. 

“Great,” he gave you a big smile before looking down at his phone, and you assumed he was texting Kyle, his driver, that he didn’t need to pick him up anymore. “Okay, I’ll see you at my place? I just have to get my shit.” 

“Okay, race you there! Wait, no, just kidding. Really, drive safe,” you chuckled, and Harry laughed. 

You met Harry at his house which was only about ten minutes from the coffee shop. His car was already in the driveway when you had pulled up, and you just decided to wait outside by your car for him, popping open the trunk. A few minutes later, Harry came out with his duffel bag, locking the door behind him. 

He put his stuff in the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat of your car, and you were off to the airport. 

Traffic was a bit heavy, but you made it just in time for Harry to check in and get settled without having to worry if he was late or not. You had pulled into an underground garage of the airport, and got out of the car as Harry got his stuff out from the trunk. 

“Guess I’ll see you on New Years?” You stood in front of Harry behind your car. He nodded before taking you into your arms. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Let me know if you’re going back home or if you decide to join us,” he said into your ear as he hugged you tightly around your waist. Your arms were looped around his shoulders, giving him a warm squeeze. 

“I will. Have a safe flight, and text me when you land,” you said back into his ear. 

“Always do.” 

Both of you pulled away, but his touch had still lingered on your arm; raking his hand slowly down your arm as he walked away, and you had wished you weren’t wearing a coat with many layers underneath just so you could feel his hand on your bare skin. 

“Don’t miss me too much,” you teased. Harry turned around and smirked; the one that made your stomach do flips. 

“You know I will. Gonna miss me too?” He asked in return. 

“Always do, H. Always do,” you blew a kiss at him, and he caught it, placing his hand on his heart before walking through the doors. 

You sighed as you got into your car before pulling out of the garage and driving back home. 

It may seem a little peculiar on how you two ask towards one another despite him having a girlfriend, but it’s always been like that between you two. It all started when you were at a party right beside Harry, and a few friends of his went up to you two and asked when you two were going to get together. At that time, your heart stopped because you had just figured out that you had feelings for him. But Harry responded with “until she lets me,” and it was meant to tease you, but it had left you in confusion. 

Since then, you two would tease each other and somewhat act like you were together, but it had died down a tad bit ever since he’s gotten a girlfriend. And although Harry is a natural charmer, you two were best friends, so there was a tad bit platonic flirting between you two. 

But you wished that he would see past the best friend line and assistant line. 

31 December 2017 

The cold air from the room had made goosebumps rise onto your skin, although it seemed warm in the room from the crowd that was gathering rather quickly while the music started becoming louder, and chatter and laughs filled the room. 

You were talking with Glenne and observing the people around you at the same time; everyone was wearing their best attire for the new year, and you were as well. You were wearing a red silk dress that hugged you just right as the material in the back dropped to your mid back, showing almost the entirety of your back. You wore nude four inch heels, feeling like the height of your shoe was enough so you weren’t completely struggling to walk throughout the night. And your makeup was sparkling with gold colored eyeshadow and a red lip. You looked hot, and you knew it. 

One of Jeff’s friends had booked a hotel room on the top floor, literally right next to the ball drop, so everyone can just look out the window rather than going outside in the freezing weather. 

It was nice to dress up after being cozied up throughout Christmas. You had decided to go back home after all, buying your plane ticket right when you got home from dropping Harry off at the airport. It was a bit pricey because of the fact that you were buying the ticket a day before the scheduled time the flight is supposed to take off, and considering that it was the holiday season as well. But you had gotten a Christmas bonus unexpectedly, and everything worked out. 

You enjoyed your time with your family and getting to spend a week with them before you had to leave for New York again for New Years. 

You also hadn’t expected to receive a gift from Harry on Christmas morning when your mom was passing gifts out. With a confused expression, you took the big box from your mom’s hands that was wrapped in red and white festive wrapping paper with a bow on it. Once you opened it, you had softly gasped when you saw the items inside; it was all of your favorite things, including some extra items Harry had picked out for himself. He had gotten you a much bigger planner, for the next year, that will help for work, and you smiled, knowing that he had remembered you talking about how much you wanted the planner so badly. The box also contained some of your favorite snacks, little Knick knacks that reminded him of you, and a velvet rectangle box that held a small diamond pendant attached to a thin gold chain. 

It was absolutely stunning, and Harry must’ve spent a lot on it, but he didn’t mind. He thought it was going to look so beautiful on you, and it made you feel special that you were wearing something so meaningful from someone that means so much to you. 

The gold chain sat perfectly on your collarbones, and you hadn’t taken it off ever since you received it; only when you showered, but you put it right back on after. 

The volume of the room had increased, and you turned your head towards the door and found Harry walking in with a bright smile on his face, and of course, Brooke right alongside him with her arm looped with his. 

They looked absolutely stunning together as they walked inside the building as they greeted everyone with big smiles. They radiated perfection and luxury as everyone’s eyes were on them as if they were a piece of art hung up high in the gallery--worthy enough to be looked at. But your eyes were placed on one person in the room, and you so wished you were right beside him instead of her. 

The couple had made their way through the crowd when Harry spotted Jeff in the corner. With Harry leading the two of them with their hands interlocked together, they greeted Jeff and Glenne before Harry let go of Brooke’s hand to give you a hug. 

“Hey, angel,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he slightly picked you up off the ground. His hands met the exposed skin of your back and he felt goosebumps rise onto your skin as his cool metal rings touched your skin. 

“Hi, H. How are you?” You asked against his ear and he set you down on your feet before pulling away. 

“Good, good. Missed you.” 

You blushed, “Miss you too. Also, thank you again for your present, it was so thoughtful and lovely.” 

“I’m so happy you liked it. Thank you for yours as well. I love it a lot,” he beamed as he looked down at you. You had given Harry three presents. The first one being a black soft leather journal with his initials engraved in the middle and spine of the journal in gold. The second gift was a manicure set because he recently started to paint his nails, so you wanted him to have all the tools and colors he needed. The third gift was a photo album of his success (you also threw in a couple of you and him). You told him that he can look at it anytime he wants, but it’s just a reminder of how proud you are of him and how far he’s gone; and you would be adding more in the future. It had made him tear up a bit as he found the gifts to be so sweet and sentimental of you. 

“Hi, Brooke,” you greeted with a small smile, and you saw her face beam as she hugged you, but you knew that it was definitely a fake one to put up an act in front of her boyfriend. 

“How are you, girl?! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” She yelled over the loud music. 

“Good, thanks. How are you?” 

“Great! Did you see what Harry got me for Christmas?” She waved her arm out to show you the diamond bracelet that sat on her wrist. It was very beautiful, you had to admit. It was very Brooke, and you were glad Harry didn’t ask you for any help with trying to find her a Christmas present. 

“I’m gonna get another drink,” you excused yourself, not really wanting to be around her much longer as she smirked and tried to flaunt her gift in your face. But you didn’t let it get to you because you truly loved the gifts Harry had gotten you, and it made it extra special because he put so much thought into it. 

You made your way to the bar, downing the remains of your drink before asking the cute bartender for another one. 

“Having fun?” He asked with a smile as he set your drink down onto a black square napkin. 

“Sure, let’s just say that,” you chuckled sarcastically before throwing your head back to take the entire cup of alcohol down your throat. 

“Thanks,” you set the glass down before walking away. 

You wanted to go back to where Glenne was standing, but you had bumped into some friends that you had met through Jeff on your way, so you had to catch up with them and tell them everything that’s going on with you after they told you their whole life story. 

The hours to the new year went by pretty quickly. You ended up hanging out with a few friends and going outside with them to have a smoke. The alcohol and weed had eased you, and you actually had a really fun time with them. The idea of Brooke clinging onto Harry had left your mind and you loosened up, smiling and dancing along with drinking. 

There were five minutes left until midnight, and everyone was gathered next to the window that overlooked Times Square. The volume in the room was loud as everyone screamed and laughed—excited for the new year. 

You were standing next to Harry, and of course Brooke on the other side of him. Glenne and Jeff were on the left of Brooke, and both of the couples had their arms around each other as the only thing you were holding was a glass of tequila as you didn’t have anyone to celebrate the new year with. 

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!” Everyone chanted, and you chuckled, laughing at your loneliness when there were so many people around you. Your eyes watered up, crossing your arms as you looked at the shining lights through the window.

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” The sounds of cheers and party horns erupted in the room as people took each other against their lips. 

You slightly glanced right next to you and saw Harry and Brooke kissing lovingly as she smiled into the kiss, along with Jeff and Glenne. 

You turned away, looking out at the window as you raised your glass. “Cheers,” you whispered to yourself before throwing your head back and consuming your tequila shot. 

Everyone was so consumed in one another that nobody noticed the tears streaming down your face as the loneliness you had felt physically and mentally took over. 

4 January 2018 

Harry was standing on the elevated box in front of a mirror. He was wearing a sparkly pink suit with gold lining on the seams, along with a gold shirt with a pussybow. Harry Lambert was behind up, straightening out the jacket. 

You had sat on the couch of the large private dressing room as you observed. Harry looked at you through the mirror, giving you no emotion. You smiled, but he didn’t smile back; only looking away and taking his attention on the suit. You furrowed your brow, confused as to why he was looking at you like that and so coldly. 

You stood up, walking over to him. “It looks great, H.” 

“Thanks,” he said quickly. 

“Think you can dance in it?” You teased as you smirked, trying to add some sort of lightness to see if his cold looks were accidental. 

“Pretty sure,” his tone was very short, and your smirk fell. 

“Wait right here. Just need to get something really quick for the pants,” Harry Lambert said before walking out of the dressing room. 

There was a moment of silence, and Harry pulled on the suit jacket so it sits nicely on him. By this point, he would’ve asked for your opinion and for some reassurance because sometimes he needs those extra words that tell him it doesn’t look too much or weird on him. But you got silence. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked warily. 

“Yeah.” 

“You sure?” You still weren’t convinced enough. 

“Yes, now can you please stop asking me? Fuck,” He rolled his eyes, voice slightly raised. 

“What is your problem?” Your brows furrowed. 

“What my problem is, is that you won’t leave me the fuck alone nor would you stop talking. I’m just trying to do some fittings, but you wouldn’t stop talking,” he huffed. He didn’t even turn around, just kept looking at himself in the mirror. 

You scoffed, grabbing your bag from off the couch. “Don’t fucking ask me to come with you if you didn’t want me here.” You headed for the exit before turning around at the last second. “And next time, look me in the eye and tell me that shit,” you said before you completely exit the building and head towards your apartment. 

You’ve never been so annoyed before, and that says a lot because you deal with a lot of people from the industry and Brooke. You didn’t know what came over him because he’s never talked to you like that nor has he raised his voice at you. With utter confusion, you sat on your couch, taking off your shoes for the day since you didn’t have any other work to do for the day, and you thought going with him to his fitting was a waste of time if he was going to act all pissy on you. 

Only moments later, you heard a knock on your door, and you immediately knew it was Harry probably coming by to tell you that he was sorry and he didn’t mean to say those words. But words are words and despite not meaning to say them, they still came out meaning that he was thinking it. But since this was Harry, the kindest human you’ve ever met, you opened the door because he’s your best friend and you deserve an apology. 

Huffing, you opened the door to find Harry standing on your doorstep with his head down and a slight frown to his face. Without saying anything, you moved to the side, opening the door wider for him to walk through, which he does. You walk over to the couch and take a seat; Harry sitting on the other side. The fact that you weren’t saying anything was killing him, but he doesn’t blame you. You crossed your arms as you waited for him to say something, and he inhaled deeply before he spoke. 

“I’m sorry for what I said back there. I shouldn’t have taken all my anger out on you because you don’t deserve that whatsoever. You were just trying to make sure I was okay, and I really appreciate that,” he resented himself for acting that way towards you. His eyes were red and he looked quite sad, and you want to know what made him originally feel this way. 

“Why were you so mad to begin with?” You asked curiously, and he sighed as you brushed away his apology. 

“Brooke and I have been fighting--ever since New Years. She claimed that I was always hanging out with you and that I left her at the party to be with you, but that’s not true right? I feel like I barely saw you during the party,” his brows furrowed in confusion. He was right; you barely even hung out with him during New Years because you were some other friends, and the only time you really spoke to him was when he arrived and after the countdown, but that was it. 

“Why is she so…” you trailed off, not wanting to sound so offensive towards his girlfriend. 

“You can say it.” 

“Possessive? Obsessive? Threatened by me? I mean I get that you’re her boyfriend, but I haven’t done anything to trigger that, have I?” You tilted your head as if you were thinking. You were never the one to steal someone’s boyfriend because that wasn’t any of your business; no matter how much you liked that person. But your attitude towards Harry was very much best friend-like. You miss him on days when you don’t see him, you give him big hugs when you reunite, you give each other friendly kisses on the cheek in a way to say ‘thanks,’ but it was never meant to steal him away from her. 

“No, you haven’t. I don’t know… I feel like she’s always had this problem with you because you’re my best friend, but also assistant--the closest person to me. I always tell her that she has nothing to worry about, but she doesn’t trust me for some reason.” 

“I’m sorry, H,” you said, placing your hand on his knee in a way to comfort him. He placed his hand right over yours in a way to say ‘thank you for understanding.’ 

“I should be the one apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I really am sorry for how coldly I acted towards you,” he softly smiled, and you gave him one back. 

“It’s okay. Was it unnecessary? Yes. But it was one time,” you forgave him. 

“You’re the best. But I should get going to finish up the fittings,” he said, standing up from the couch. You stood up, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you?” You nodded, giving him a big hug. He embraced you with both arms as he squeezed tightly before he walked out the door. You figured there was no point in going with him since he only has a couple of suits to try on, so you stayed back. 

About thirty minutes later, your phone vibrated. Seeing Harry’s contact name, you smiled to yourself. 

H: Attachment: 2 images 

How do these look?

You chuckled. He had sent you mirror pictures, holding up a peace sign as he was in a sparkly blue suit. 

My Angel: You look like Cinderella lmao

I love it!

Harry smiled. He was about to text you some silly joke about being Prince Charming while you’re the princess, but he heard a voice at the door, making him stop what he was doing. 

“Hey, babe!” Harry looked up and saw Brooke walk in. His eyes widened as he turned around, and she gave him a kiss. 

“W-What are you doing here?” He asked, confused. 

“Jeff said you’d be here, so I decided to surprise you!” She said cheerfully, holding his hands. 

“O-Oh, I’m very surprised,” he chuckled nervously. He didn’t really know why he was nervous, but possibly the fact that if he hadn’t snapped at you, then you would still be in the room, which would have raised questions and yet another argument with Brooke. 

“I figured after you’re finished, we could get an early dinner and you could come back to my place?” She suggested. “Think we need to talk about some things.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I have about two more suits, so you can wait outside-”

“Silly! No, I’ll wait here,” she took a seat on the couch you were just sitting on thirty minutes ago. He nodded without saying anything before he proceeded on to his next suit. 

You looked down at your phone on Harry’s message thread, waiting for his reply. You saw the text bubbles pop up and you smiled, waiting for him to say some corny joke, but they went away. You waited for a moment, so they could pop back up, but they didn’t. So, you shrugged, locking your phone, and wondering if he got caught up in something, so he couldn’t reply. 

1 February 2018

It was Harry’s birthday and the crowd was rolling in. 

He decided he wanted to spend his birthday in Los Angeles since most of his friends are there anyways. Plus, it’s a small get together before the tour starts next month and then he would be all over the place. He wanted a semi small party at his house, nothing too crazy, he just wanted everyone he cares about at the party. Anne and Gemma flew in the day before to join in on the fun, and you were excited to see them because you missed them like crazy. 

“Angel! This party is great! Thank you for keeping it so nice and small,” Harry said, giving you a hug. He also handed you your favorite drink, which is a whiskey on the rocks. 

“I’m happy you like it, birthday boy,” you smiled as you watched everyone gather into his Malibu house. There were about thirty people in total that were on the guest list, only adding people Harry was close to.

“Ah, there’s mum and Gem. Let’s say hi,” he told you, and you excitedly smiled, walking towards the door. 

“Mum!” Harry called out, and Anne’s eyes lightened up. 

“Oh, my baby! Happy birthday, my love,” she kissed his cheeks as he hugged her. 

“Hi, Gems,” he greeted his sister, also giving her a hug. 

“Happy birthday baby brother. One more year and you’ll be a quarter of a century,” she joked, and Harry chuckled. 

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m so happy you guys are-” 

“Y/N? Is that you? Oh my god, come here you!” Anne interrupted Harry once she saw you. Her eyes widened and she was smiling like crazy as you walked towards her, giving her a lovely hug. “Oh, darling. It’s been a while since I saw you!” 

“Yeah, it really has been. You both still look so amazing,” you said, giving Gemma a hug. 

“Please, you’re too sweet to us. How have you been? Don’t want to quit just yet because of this one?” Anne joked, nudging Harry as he playfully rolled his eyes. 

“Heyyy,” his brows furrowed, and Anne pinched his cheek. 

“I’ve been good. And not yet. Give me about five months and we’ll get back to this conversation,” you joked back, looking at Harry to see him frowning. You looped your arm around his waist, giving him a hug, and he stopped frowning; his face turning into a small smirk. 

“Let’s definitely catch up later. I’m going to say hi to Jeff and Glenne. Be right back,” Anne said before walking through the crowd, Gemma following her. 

You and Harry were alone again as you two sipped on your drinks. Some people said hi to them, but not making conversation for too long as they wanted to get another drink or food. 

“Is Brooke here? Haven’t seen her,” you asked curiously. Harry’s face dropped, and you looked at him confusingly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he pinched the top of his nose as he looked down, shaking his head. 

“What?” 

“I totally forgot she was coming,” he said, and you fought the urge to laugh. 

“How did you forget your own girlfriend?” 

“I don’t know--I was just so focused on the tour and this party that it slipped my mind that she was coming,” he sighed. 

“Oh okay. What’s so bad about her being here?” You wondered. 

“That means she’s gonna meet mum and Gem.” Your mouth formed an ‘o’ as if realization struck you, and Harry nodded his head as if he was saying ‘yeah, that’s why.’ 

“Better prepare for that because I could already hear her laugh,” you placed your hand on his shoulder, patting it. Harry took a deep breath and downed the rest of his drink before he walked over to the entrance. You chuckled as he did so as you found it amusing that he had to do that to deal with her. 

After you heard her squeal, which meant that Harry had gone up to her already. You started walking towards the entrance door, and you saw them hugging; she then started jumping and kissing him, whispering into his ear and biting her lip as he gave her a smirk. 

As you watched from the sidelines, your heart started to ache. You wished that it was you instead of her. You wished you could whisper all things sweet and dirty into his ear as he looked at you with a smirk before biting his lip. You wanted him to give you the same smile he gave her, although you were starting to see less and less of that smile. You wanted what she had. 

But you would never get that. 

“Hey, you,” Gemma sneaked you from behind you, causing you to slightly jump. “Sorry,” she chuckled. 

“It’s okay. What’s up?” You smiled, trying to hide the pain in your eyes. 

“You’re not going to tell him, huh?” 

“Tell who what?” You raised your eyebrows, pretending to be oblivious. Gemma gave you a knowing look as she raised her eyebrows. 

“You know what. Not gonna tell him at all?” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders as you turned your head back to them. They were posing for some pictures with their arms around each other’s waists. They took a couple: smiling ones, funny ones, and even a kissing one. You turned your head back to Gemma once they started to kiss for a picture, and she softly smiled at you. 

“There’s no point. He’s with Brooke, and it’s not like he’s ever going to like me or get with me,” you sadly explained. Gemma looked at you as if you were totally wrong. “If he’s happy with Brooke, then why would I ruin that for him because of my selfish reasons?” 

“It’s not selfish for wanting to tell someone you love-”

“I don’t love him,” you immediately interrupted. 

“Y/N…c’mon,” she raised her eyebrows, knowing you’re completely wrong. 

“Okay…” you sighed in defeat, and she chuckled, continuing what she was saying. 

“You’ve known him for what, two years? That man makes sure you’re a priority. He makes sure you’re happy. If you could hear the stories he tells us and how he talks about you, you would think otherwise,” she stated before taking a sip of her drink. 

You stay quiet for a moment and think. Was there any way that Harry could have possibly liked you? There’s no way. You hadn’t noticed anything different about his behavior in the past two years you’ve known and worked for him. So, there was no way he could’ve liked you. And you know you’re only telling yourself that now, so you don’t lose your shit at his birthday party. 

“W-What does he say about me?” 

“Maybe you’ll know some time in the future if you tell him,” she challenged, and you rolled your eyes, causing Gemma to laugh. 

After Harry and Brooke managed to get away from the entrance, you and Gemma saw them walking towards you both. 

“Y/N, hi!” She greeted you with a not so surprising high pitched tone; only because Harry is right next to her. She also gave you a hug, which you only put in half the effort like always. Harry smiled at both of you, and she let go. 

“Gems, where’s mum?” He asked his sister. 

“Think she might be in the back,” she replied, looking at Brooke for a brief moment before looking back at Harry. 

“This is Brooke,” he introduced his girlfriend. 

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Brooke said with a big smile on her face, giving Gemma a hug. Polite as Gemma is, she hugged back. 

“You too,” Gemma simply said. 

“Should we go to the back and find mum? Brooke wants to meet her,” Harry asked, and Gemma nodded before walking towards the backyard. 

You stayed back, realizing that you weren’t needed and you didn’t have any business following them for Brooke to meet Anne. So, you walked over to the kitchen to grab a plate of cheese and crackers. Since the kitchen was right next to the large doors that led to the backyard, you looked up and saw Brooke jumping up and down slightly as she greeted Anne with a hug. You saw Anne smiling, hugging her back before they pulled away and started talking. Harry looked at them so fondly as they spoke. 

“Hey,” a voice next to you had startled you, making you slightly jump, taking your attention away from what’s happening in the backyard. Luckily, not dropping any of your food. 

“Hi,” you said back to the man you don’t know. 

“I’m Alex. One of Jeff’s friends. I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” he shook your hand, smiling. 

“I don’t think we have. I’m Y/N,” you nicely said back. 

“So, how do you know Harry?” He asked, grabbing a grape. 

“I’m his assistant, and best friend.” 

“Oh, shit! Special person I’m talking to, right here,” he smirked. Alex was cute and very attractive, but it wasn’t the same kind of smirk that you’ve been in love with for two years. 

“Hardly,” you scoffed before giving him a small smile as a way to tell him you’re somewhat joking. 

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. By any chance, you want to go somewhere to sit and talk?” He proposed hopefully. It wasn’t a bad idea whatsoever. You needed to make new friends and possibly make some new connections. You also didn’t want to depend on Harry all the time when you wanted to talk to someone because he’s busy, and his girlfriend doesn’t like you. So, you nodded. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiled, leading you to a more quiet area of the house, which was the sitting area. 

Meanwhile as you were chatting with Alex, Harry watched Brooke interact with Anne with a smile, but he still felt a weird feeling in his chest, like he’s happy about it, but he’s still wary. He brushed that feeling off, looking around and wondering where you were--if you’re having a great time. He turned his head towards the kitchen, and saw you talking to Alex. Smiles were placed on both your faces, and Harry frowned. He knew Alex was charming him up because that’s what he does. Alex technically wasn’t a bad guy, and Harry’s known him for a few years. He was nice, attractive, and can charm the shit out of someone just like Harry. But the sight and thought of seeing him actually charm you did not sit well with him. It really didn’t sit well once he saw you following him out of the kitchen. 

Harry took deep breaths, trying not to let the thought of you possibly enjoying hanging out with Alex as he carried on with his birthday night. 

6 February 2018

A deep sigh was let out once you sat in your seat on the plane. 

It was cold in Los Angeles and you knew the flight back to New York was going to be a bumpy one considering the weather in both cities, so you dressed comfortably, wearing grey sweatpants, a black sweatshirt, and some white sneakers. Your headphones had been plugged into your ears ever since you were cleared at TSA. 

As you got comfortable in your seat, Harry sat next to you, sighing. You obviously didn’t hear it because your headphones were in, but you definitely heard it the second time when he did it louder. You didn’t do anything, just browse on your phone until he dramatically sighed again, even louder this time. 

“What?” You said, taking your headphones out. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” He immediately asked, and your brows furrowed. 

“Ignoring you? Why would you think that?” 

“Well, for starters, you haven’t really spoken to me since my birthday. What’s up with that?” 

“Well, I didn’t really have to, did I?” There was no reason for your somewhat sarcastic tone and it’s not like you weren’t mad at him or anything, but you were exhausted from flying back and forth, plus doing your job. It’s not like you were ungrateful, but sometimes, you just needed a break, and that included, not talking to anyone. 

“You could’ve just answered my texts saying you were okay and that you weren’t going to be on your phone,” he scoffed, and you knew he was right. You were about to say you were sorry until he muttered something else. “Too busy with Alex, I see.” 

“What?” You asked in disbelief, knowing he said what you heard, but wanted to clarify. 

“You were, right?”

“What does this have to do with Alex?” You were starting to grow frustrated. 

“I mean, I saw you two at my party, and you two left together and stuff. So, you were probably busy for the entire week,” he said casually, scrolling through his phone as if you weren’t fuming right next to him. 

“It was one night-”

“Are you saying you had sex with him?” He turned his head towards you with raised eyebrows. He had this look on his face that told you he knew everything, but he just wanted to hear you say it. So, you did. 

“Yeah. So what if I fucked him? Is there something wrong with that? Didn’t get a little birthday sex? Don’t worry, I had some for you!” You tried containing your yells, but it came out like a loud whisper. Luckily there weren’t that many people on the plane; only the people who flew first class. 

It was true. When Alex had suggested talking, you found out that he was a very nice and funny guy. The night was getting late, and you said you were going to head home (which was a hotel), so he offered to drive you since you took an Uber, and that led to you inviting him up to your room and him gladly saying yes. It all happened so quick. You had immediately kissed him once you closed the door, and that led to him taking both of your clothes off before he fucked you. It was average sex, but you had fun considering that it’s been a while since you’ve had someone fuck you. That morning he left, telling you to text him, but you hadn’t and you don’t know if you will.

Harry stayed quiet, looking back down at his phone, and you shook your head, sitting correctly, and looking out the window, knowing that this was going to be a long flight. 

Just as you knew, the ride was bumpy, raising your fear and anxiety as you held onto yourself for dear life. You turned your music up, put your hands into your sweater, and crossed your arms in a way to calm you down and feel like someone is holding onto you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the songs until you felt a hand on your arm. You opened your hands, and saw Harry with his eyes closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. He had always held your hand when you two would fly together and there was turbulence. It was something he did that made you feel safe and comfortable during the flight. 

You smiled softly, taking his hand in with your as you shifted closer to his seat despite the middle console in between you two. For the rest of the flight, you weren’t as scared. 

Once you two landed, Harry’s driver was immediately outside in the designated area, and you two were taken back to your place before there was any cause of commotion at the airport. Harry helped you with your bags, walking to your front door. 

“Hey, I’m sorry for everything on the plane,” he said as you looked for your keys in your purse. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too--for not replying to you and for snapping at you on the plane as well,” you said back. “Can I just ask why you were so...angry I was with Alex?” You wondered. 

“I…uh,” he stumbled over his words, trying to find the right thing to say without it coming out like he was a jealous prick. “Just...Alex is known for charming the shit out of you, so he could sleep with you, but seeing as you already slept with him…” 

“Harry, isn’t it my job to decide who I can and can’t sleep with? I get that you want to look out for me, but just let me decide that, alright?” You said softly, and he nodded. 

“Think I was jealous,” he blurted out, and he immediately closed his mouth and widened his eyes once he said that because he really didn’t mean to. 

“W-Why?” You looked at him concerningly, and Harry took a deep breath because now he had make up an answer because god knows what the truth is. 

He took a step forward, looking at you so intently. You felt like he was staring you down, but you didn’t look away as you were so lost in his eyes that it physically made it difficult to even glance the other way.

Next thing you knew, he was inches away from you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You held your breath as you looked up at him, looking extra close at the pinkness of his lips. Your chests were pressed so close against one another that you were sure he could feel your heart pounding through his. It was so loud that it rang through your ears—so loud you couldn’t hear anything else except for the constant chanting in your head screaming ’Harry, Harry, Harry.’ It was Harry that you wanted to kiss so badly. It was Harry who’s lips you could touch in an instant if you were to just lift your feet. It was Harry. It always has been. 

But you couldn’t.

Brooke.

You immediately stepped away from him as your eyes looked down, finally away from Harry. “I’m sorry-”

“No, I’m sorry-”

“Because Brooke, and-”

“Yeah…” 

You nodded, not sure what to do next, but seeing as you were still outside of your door, you finally got your keys out, and unlocked it. 

“Well, I’ll see you.” 

“Yeah, I’ll text you,” he said as he started walking backwards away from your apartment. 

You nodded. “Yup. Bye.” He waved, turning around and walking down the hall. 

Walking into your space and bringing your luggage in, you sighed as you closed the door. It was completely silent as your mind was racing and your heart was beating. 

What the fuck just happened and what the fuck was that?

3 March 2018

The first show of Harry’s tour was kicking off, and you were excited for him. He was slightly nervous and jittery, but that was expected. 

The ‘moment’ you two had when you came back from Los Angeles after your birthday was past you two. Although, you still think about it way too often, Harry seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it, so you respected that and didn’t bring it up. Besides, what was there to talk about anyways?

The first show started in Basel, Switzerland and you were very stoked. You’ve never been to any of the countries he’s going to play in besides London and some cities in the states, so it was going to be an adventure for you. For his very first tour that included small venues, you rarely went to any of the shows, so to say you were excited was an understatement. 

You were with Harry Lambert, looking at the first show suit in the stylist room. It was a Gucci black sparkly suit with gems on the lapel. You hadn’t seen this particular suit on him yet because you weren’t at the fitting the day he tried it on, but you absolutely loved it. It gave everyone just a hint of what the rest of the suits for the tour will look like. 

“Har—oh,” Brooke had entered the room, assumingly looking for Harry, but was disappointed when she saw you. “Have you seen Harry?” 

“Uh, I haven’t. He might be out on the stage,” you said honestly, and she nodded, turning around. But before she could exit the room, you called her, “Hey, Brooke.” She turned around, rolling her eyes. “I just kind of want to mend things between us. I feel like there has always been some sort of tension ever since we met, and seeing that you’ve been around for long and might be around for even longer, we should be civil towards one another.” 

“Well, obviously there has been. You’re trying to steal my boyfriend,” she said straightforwardly, and you raised your eyebrows, looking at Lambert. He was looking at Brooke with a not so friendly look, knowing that you would never do that despite knowing that you were in love with him. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. You will never get Harry. He’s in love with me, not you. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. You will never be enough for him because you’re just his assistant. That’s all you are to him. Don’t think you’re more than that, okay?” She said with a smile, and you bit your lip, not wanting to argue with her. 

There was something about her words that really got to you, and you think that’s because she’s actually dating Harry and has managed to weave her way into his heart.

“I’d hate to continuingly have to tell you this, but I think the first time was enough, right? Now you’ve made me tell you twice,” she continued as she scoffed. “Anyways, I need to go find my boyfriend,” she turned around but suddenly stumbled back as she was met with Harry. “Oh, Harry. I was just looking-”

“Don’t even speak right now,” his eyes were dark and he was angry. 

It wasn’t like you to see Harry so often considering that he sometimes deals with rude fans and pushy paps, but he was mad. 

“I-”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Trying to degrade my best friend and assistant?” 

“Har-”

“We need to talk,” he told her, leaving the room. She turned around to look at you with sad eyes, but you simply couldn’t help her, not like you would anyways. She followed him, and the room was left with a weird tension that needed to be cut with a knife.

“Well, wasn’t that interesting,” Lambert said. 

After about thirty minutes, Harry walked back into the room. He stayed complete silent and started undressing to get into his suit since there was thirty minutes left until he had to go on. You and Lambert looked at each other, not knowing if you two should say anything, but decided to keep your mouths shut and let him get ready. 

Once he was dressed, he thanked Lambert and walked out of the room; once again with the same tension being in the air. You walked out as well as you debated whether or not to talk to him, but you saw him and the band gathering together, so you figured you could just talk to him after. 

The show had finally started, and the band was going out on stage. The crowd was roaring like crazy as the anticipation of seeing Harry was finally coming to an end. Once the band was fully equipped, Harry started to climb up the stairs. Around the stage it was dark as the beginning of ‘Only Angel’ started to play. You turned on your flashlight on your phone, and called out for him.

“Harry!” He turned around, holding the railings of the stairs, and his expression was normal; no smile or anything.  “Goodluck out there!” Once you had said that, the corners of his lips turned up as his mouth turned into a soft smirk. 

“Thanks, angel,” he said before pointing up as a way to say ‘listen to the song.’ “This is for you,” he quickly told you, running up the stairs and to the stage before the big circular screen rose up. 

You watched the rest of the show from the side of the stage, not too far away from the front of the pit. He was spectacular on stage; he truly belonged there. He charmed the crowd, made them laugh, scream, cry, and dance their hearts out for an hour and a half, and you were truly amazed. The atmosphere of the venue was insane, loving every second of it. 

Once he finished with ‘Kiwi,’ he said his goodnights to Switzerland before running off the stage and meeting the band, talking about how crazy and fun the first show was. He told everyone that it’s only going to get better from here, and everyone nodded and high fived excitedly. 

After a few minutes, Harry walked to his dressing room to cool off, and you followed behind him. It may seem as clingy, but you were concerned for your best friend. A lot went down with Brooke in just a few minutes, and you wanted to know if he was okay, despite not showing any signs of sadness or anger on stage. 

You knocked on his dressing room door and opened it before you heard ‘come in.’ Harry looked up, and saw you peek your head through the door, and he gestured you to come in all the way, which you did. 

“That was an amazing show, H,” you complimented. 

“You watched?” He asked surprisingly. 

“Yeah, didn’t miss a moment. I was on the side of the stage.” 

“Oh, well. Thank you,” he said. 

There was a moment of silence as you tried to form your words on how to go about talking to him about what had happened before the show. 

“I-I just wanted to ask if you were okay?” You started. He took a seat on his couch as you stayed standing up in front of him. “I’m sorry for what happened before the-”

“Why are you saying sorry?” He asked, looking up at you as if he was genuinely asking. 

“I...I don’t know what happened with Brooke, but if something did happen then I’m sorry,” you nervously. The only reason why you were so nervous was because you hoped that he didn’t get mad at you for whatever happened with her. 

“You didn’t do anything, angel. You did nothing wrong at all,” he sighed, and you stayed quiet as there was definitely more of what he wanted to say. “But I did break up with her.” Your brows raised at that, and you fought the urge to jump and cheer. 

“Y-You did?” 

“Yeah. I kind of wanted to a few weeks ago, but I never got the chance to. But before the show, she gave me another perfectly good reason why we shouldn’t be together, so I ended it.” There wasn’t a hint of sadness on his face as he told you. 

“What were the other reasons?” You hadn’t known that he wanted to break up with her before the events that happened today. You would expect him to talk to you about it, but you weren’t hurt by it. 

“I…” he cut himself off, and you waited patiently to see if he was going to say something. After a few more seconds, you saw him debate with himself to see if he actually wanted to tell you, and you wondered if he trusted in that sense; to talk to you and tell you things that were on his mind, but you didn’t want to get into it with him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked instead, truly wanting to make sure. 

“I should be asking you that.” 

“No-”

“Angel, c’mon. Behind closed doors, I didn’t know half the shit she was saying to you. I told her to fess up everything she’s done to you, and she did. Let me tell you, I was not happy at all that you had to deal with that without me knowing. And that fact that she lied to me about asking you to hang out and pretending to be nice to you--no wonder why you didn’t want to hang out with her.” 

The first time you had hung out with her was when you had to pick up some lunch and dry clean for Harry. They had only been dating for two months, so you thought it was best to get to know her since you were Harry’s best friend. You asked if Brooke wanted to go, and she hesitantly said sure, but when Harry thought that was a great idea, she perked up to it and said yes. When you two were in line for lunch she had asked you the basics of your job before rudely interrupting you and telling you that she knew that you were in love with him. Before you could even deny, she wasn’t having it and told you that you weren’t good enough for him and that you were only hired because you were Glenne’s friend. You were quite devastated after that and you faced Harry everyday with a smile on your face, but with the lingering thought of her words in the back of your mind. 

“Yeah, she wasn’t my particular number one person to hang out with,” you said sadly, and Harry sighed, standing up. He walked closer to you, and it felt like that time when you got home from the airport, and placed his hands on your shoulders. 

“Her talking shit about you was the last straw. Can’t have anyone talk to you like that, ever,” he said while looking into your eyes as if he was trying to convince you. 

“I am really sorry that you had to go through a break up though--especially on your first night of tour. Plus, it was your first serious relationship you’ve had in a while,” you felt bad because no one should go through the pain of a breakup. 

“It’s alright. Wasn’t in love with her like she said--didn’t even say those words to her. And it was her idea of wanting to meet my family. I was still wary about it, but that was one of the subjects for most of our arguments,” he sighed. “But I’m gonna be much happier without her. Felt like I was always stressed out around her,” he chuckled, causing you to as well. “But if anyone that I know talks to you like that ever again, please don’t hide that from me. I hate knowing that you were taking all of that shit, especially for months.” You nodded your head and he gave you a smile. 

He pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. You two stayed like that for a moment as you both felt like it’s been a while since you two has had one of these hugs. All thoughts and worries flew out of your head--not thinking about when the next time you’ll have one of these types of hugs again, and you felt safe in his arms. 

And you cherished it. 

30 March 2018

Tour was going by rather quickly as the first ten shows were already done with. 

You were able to see some beautiful sightings of the countries with Lambert and some of the band, and throughout that time, you had wished Harry was with you all, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t be out in public so casually. 

Everything you’ve seen was so beautiful and your jaw dropped everytime you would look at a tall and high building, or the skyline of the entire city. You were quite amazed. 

Now, everyone was in Barcelona, and it was by far one of your favorite cities that you’ve visited. You loved the atmosphere and the ambiance that walking through the streets of Spain had placed a beaming grin onto your face. You were only staying for a couple of days before everyone had to pack up and head to Madrid, but you made sure to snap a mental and physical photo to remember your time in Spain. 

But rather than spending your day on the streets, roaming around the beautiful city, you were currently looking for Harry because Lambert was also looking for him, and of course, you decided to help find him. You pretty much checked every room backstage besides the bathroom, and you didn’t really think to check the restroom, but he might be in there, so you made your way towards it. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in,” you said once you entered the restroom. 

The sight before you had made you sweat. A series of butterflies made its appearance in your stomach, making your hands shake. The slightest bit of air from swinging the door open had made chills rise onto your skin, but you knew that it was because of the beautiful man in front of you. 

You had walked in on Helene taking pictures of Harry, possibly so he could post them on Instagram. But he was candidly looking into the mirror as he sprayed on his Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille cologne; the one that you had picked up for him multiple times, and the one that you think smells amazing, specifically on him. He strutted around like it was made for him, and it was honestly your favorite scent. His suit was a custom Palomo black and white checkered sequined suit that just looked fucking good on him. 

“No worries, sweetheart. Just about finished. He’s all yours,” she winked at you before heading out of the bathroom. 

“What’s up, angel?” 

“Just wanted to tell you that Lambert is looking for you. Said he needed to fix up a stitch really quick before you go on stage,” you said, not meeting his eyes. 

“Is that all?” He asked, sensing your nerves, and he knew that it was possibly from walking in on him, doing a mini photoshoot because he knew he looked good. 

You gulped, “Y-Yeah.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” he challenged, walking closer to you, but not too close as there was a bit of space between you two. 

“Uh-”

“Tell me,” he shifted even closer, making you nervous. You didn’t know where the sudden outbreak of him being somewhat flirtatious as he demanded you to tell him came from, but the sound of his raspy and deep voice, and the way he was looking was making you act up as you were about to confess your feelings towards him. 

You figured it was time as you felt like he sensed that kind of vibe from you, plus Brooke mentioning that you were in love with him, which you think you’re pretty sure he heard, but you’re wondering why he hasn’t 

“I-I want to tell you something, and this may potentially ruin things between us, but-”

“There you are!” The sound of someone else’s voice in the room and the banging of the room had interrupted you, and you and Harry stepped back from one another. “Everything okay here?” Lambert asked, looking at both of you and practically feeling the tension. Once you two nodded, not looking at each other, he looked at you both suspiciously before continuing. “Anyways, come with me. I need to fix something,” Lambert walked out of the restroom as Harry followed him, not giving you another look. 

You turned around to look in the mirror, sighing to yourself as you shook your head. 

Well, guess that’s not happening right now, you thought. 

Watching Harry up on stage was something you would never get used to. You made sure to never miss a show as you watched from the side, and since he knows where you stand during the show, he always makes sure to go to that side of the stage and wave to you. But seeing him on stage was different every night. His performances and conversations with the crowd were always different and that’s what made them and him so entertaining. 

Once the show was over, he made his way off the stage and to the dressing room. He talked a bit with the band, as they always did right when the show ends, to talk about their favorite moments and which songs they needed to work on for rehearsals. After that, Harry walked to his dressing room and you would follow every single time. 

“Another great show, H. Never get tired of watching you,” you said once you entered the dressing room.

“Thanks, angel. Always feel like I’m on a high when I’m trying to cool down, like I just have so much energy to perform another hour,” he chuckled, wiping some sweat off his forehead. 

“That must be exhilarating--being up there every night for your fans,” you walked towards him to stand in front of him as he leaned on the table of the vanity. 

“Yeah, it really is,” he smiled. He pulled your arm towards him and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a hug. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but Harry was an affectionate type of guy, and really, you didn’t mind being close to him. Plus, he seemed extra needy since he recently just broke up with someone. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course, Harry. Always going to be here for you,” you said against his ear as your arms were around his shoulders. 

“And I’m always going to be here for you,” he said back. 

For a moment, it was just this--hugging him as he cooled down in your arms, and you liked it...a lot. But when you pulled back, you didn’t pull back completely and it made you face to face with him, literally inches away from each other. You two looked at each other in the eye, glancing your eyes to his lips and back up to his eyes. The only thing you thought was: I really want to fucking kiss him right now. 

And it seemed like he did as well because he crashed his lips with yours, molding them together as your arms were wrapped around one another. It was everything you expected as you dreamed of his lips on yours quite often, and you absolutely loved it. He felt like a drug, like all of your pain and worries went away once his lips touched yours, and you were addicted. You wanted so much more. 

Your tongue makes its way in his mouth, meeting his, and he swirled it with his before lightly sucking on it. Your teeth found a way to bite his bottom lip and he let out a groan. He pulled back for a bit, looking at you before kissing you again. 

“God, been wanting you for so long,” he groaned, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, trying not to take his words literally as to keeping your hopes down. But little did you know that his words were serious. “Can I touch you?” He whispered in between kisses. 

You nodded, whispering out, “Please.” Harry’s stomach did flips once you gave him consent, and his hands trailed down your body. Luckily, you were wearing a simple dress with straps, so it was easier. He bunched up your dress up to your hips, and you held it up with your arm before touching you over your panties, feeling a wet spot over the fabric. 

“Practically drenched. It’s for me, right?” He muttered, wrapping his free arm around your waist so you were closer. 

“Yes. Always going to be for you,” you moaned as his hand continuously rubbed you and he smirked. Your words had completely slipped out, but it was the truth. 

“Can I take them off?” He asked, and you nodded your head before he slid your drench underwear down your legs and you kicked them off to the side somewhere in his dressing room. You molded your lips with his again and grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, causing him to kiss you even harder. 

Harry then started roaming his hands around your thighs, going to ass and squeezing the flesh, and you moan against his mouth. His hand moves up and to your stomach before trailing down to your hot core. He took his fingers and swiped up your slit, making you groan from the feeling of his hands. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered before touching your clit and rubbing it. He buried his face in your neck to kiss, suck, and nibble on your skin, and that feeling made you throw your head back as his hands rubbed you and mouth kissed you. The feeling was indescribable, but it was Harry. 

You felt his fingers slip inside of you, starting off with one finger before pumping in and out of you. He then added another finger as he curled them in an inward motion and brushed his fingertips against the soft upper area of your pussy. 

“Shit, that feels so good. So, so good, H,” you groaned out. Harry took the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and kissed your chest where the gold chain he had gifted you rested. He pulled on the front of your dress to expose your tits, and his mouth immediately wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking them and pulling on them before releasing them with a pop. Your grip on Harry’s hair tightened as you felt like you were going to rip out his hair from the way you’re feeling. “Add another,” you whimpered out. 

“Another finger?” He looked at you with wide eyes, but all he saw was your eyes closed and head being thrown back; and you nodded. He added his pinky finger in with his ring and middle finger, trying his best to curl them up into you, but the snugness of your hole was challenging him. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Practically squeezing my fingers,” he said, kissing your neck. 

His words and fingers had gotten you to the edge, and you were minutes away from releasing around him. He saw you bite your lip and take deep breaths, and he knew you were close. 

“C’mon, angel baby. Let go for me, yeah? Know you’re close,” he thrusted his fingers deep into you, and that was when you hit your peak. With loud moans, you jolted around his fingers, riding your high out as Harry continuously pressed kisses to your chest and neck. He took his hand, sticking one of his fingers in your mouth, and you swirled your tongue around his finger that was covered in your orgasm, and moaned. He took the other two fingers, and placed them in his own mouth, tasting yourself on his fingers. “Taste so good,” he smirked, kissing your forehead, and you leaned your head on his shoulders to take a breather.

Once you calmed down, you turned your head to kiss his neck, sucking on his skin to calm your breathing down, and Harry hissed. His hands ran through your hair and all the way down to your back, soothing you. After a minute or two, you lifted your head up, meeting his eye before you kissed him, deeply. You two made out for a while you unbuttoned his black shirt, and you pulled away from his lips to kiss down his torso until you were on your knees. Harry was hard as rock in his pants and desperately needed some release that he could possibly come any minute with how you’re kissing him. 

His entire suit was still on and he went to take his jacket off, but you stopped him. 

“Keep it on,” you looked up at him as you told him so before proceeding to kiss down his stomach. He put his arms down, and gripped and sat on the edge of the desk. You got to the hem of his pants and looked up at him, giving him a sight to die for. “Can I take these off?” 

He looked down at you, smirking before nodding his head. “Please, take it all off,” he gave your cheek a stroke with his thumb, and you smiled looking back down to his pants to unbutton it, pulling down his trousers to his ankles, you saw his bulge, and smirked before you kissed over his underwear. Harry took a deep breath in as you palmed him before grabbing the hem of his briefs and pulling it down, his dick springing up as Harry’s shoulder relaxed from the lack of restraint. 

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you said, grabbing his dick. You knew very well that he was well endowed because of the many times you’ve seen him get hard on stage, and also from that moment when you walked in on him in Brooke’s mouth had confirmed it, but seeing it up close was unreal. You licked your hand and grabbed his cock before looking up at him. “What do you want me to do, Harry?” Your voice asked seductively. He was completely under your spell as his breaths were staggered while you stroked him. 

“Anything you want,” he breathed out. You smirked at the state he was in at the moment, and you loved every second of it. 

You put your mouth around his tip, sucking it lightly, and that caused Harry’s breath to hitch in his throat. You took more of him in your mouth as you relaxed your jaw. He was bigger than the guys you’ve fucked and you really hoped you were doing a good job for him because you wanted him to feel good. You hollowed your cheeks in and sucked hard, slicking your tongue on the underside of his cock. 

“Feels so good, angel baby,” he moaned, throwing his head back. He was already embarrassingly close, but he wanted to feel you more, so he tangled his fingers in your hair, getting a gentle but steady grip, and started guiding your head up and down his cock. You let him take control for the time being because honestly, you loved hearing the sounds of his moans start to progress. “That’s it,” he muttered under his breath once he felt the back of your throat. 

You placed your hands on his thighs, gripping his skin harshly so that your nails dug into it, and he hissed, but the pain felt so good to him. After a few more pushes to your head, you pushed on his thighs so he could release you, and when you did that he knew that he was done being in control. You grabbed his cock that was slick from your mouth, and you loved your head down so you could take his balls in your mouth. More of the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth came out more loudly as you sucked until he finally said the words. 

“Gonna cum, angel. Gonna fuckin’ cum,” he moaned. You saw his knuckles practically turn white as he gripped the desk hard. You loved your head back up to place the tip in your mouth as you fondled with his balls before he spurts his come in your mouth. “Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he said as you swallowed. 

You kissed back up his stomach and to his neck before meeting his lips again. He tasted himself on your tongue, and you were a good mix with him. You two pulled back from one another, looking at each other before you both started giggling—post orgasm haze. 

“Jeez, such an angel, but that mouth of yours is sinful.”

5 June 2018 

The rest of the Europe, Australia, and Asia leg went by, and you were back in the states for the first show of the US leg. 

Ever since the dressing room escapade, you and Harry had been acting differently towards each other. There weren’t anymore sexual acts, but there was a lot more affection. Sadly, not any kisses to the lips, but kisses to the cheek and forehead were made, and they were welcomed and given. He would always put an arm around your shoulder when you two were walking, and there was the occasional cuddle in his hotel room before or after the show. It was definitely different, but you enjoyed it. 

What you didn’t enjoy was the fact that you hadn’t told him you liked him. You were sure he had an idea, but you wanted to say it out loud to get it off your chest. You also didn’t know if he felt that way towards you whatsoever, and that thought scared you. Just because of what happened in the dressing room didn’t necessarily mean he had feelings for you. The thought of him just leading you on and messing with you feelings made your heart sink when you think about it, and you really hoped it wouldn't get to that point. 

Tonight was the Dallas show, and Harry wore an Alexander McQueen embroidered pink floral suit. As always, he looked amazing. But your favorite was the Barcelona suit, and you might be a bit biased on that given the events that happened in that particular suit. You chuckled to yourself as you followed Jeff and Glenne to your seats. 

You decided to watch the show with them in the reserved seats in the lower level of the arena, and it was a change from the side of the stage, but you could really see more from the seats. Once you got to your seats, Harry had already finished up with ‘Only Angel’ and was moving on to ‘Woman,’ but a familiar man had caught your eye. 

“Alex?” You called out through the music. 

“Y/N! It’s so great seeing you!” He said, giving you a hug. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Jeff and Harry invited me! Haven’t seen Harry perform since last year, so they reserved me a seat,” his face was close to your ear, so you could understand him better through the loudness of the crowd and the bass of the music. 

“Ah, well I’m glad you’re here! It’s been a while,” you said completely innocently, and he nodded, smiling before turning his head to watch Harry on stage. In all honesty, the thought of Alex slipped your mind because your head was constantly thinking about Harry as it always does. 

For the rest of the show, he was amazing. The crowd was wild as always, and he absolutely looked so cute in his suit. Your favorite part was when someone threw a rainbow sequined cowboy hot on stage, and he picked it up to wear it. It was a look, to be honest. 

Before the band said their goodbyes to the crowd, the four of you headed backstage, so there wasn’t any delay with everyone trying to leave at the same time. As you were walking, you were walking next to Alex as Jeff and Glenne walked in front of you two. 

“Hey, I was thinking. Maybe we should get dinner tonight? Y’know, to catch up? I know some places that are still open,” he suggested, and you liked the idea. 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good,” you said, smiling back. 

The four of you met with the band as they laughed and talked about the show. You met Harry, giving him a hug as you told him that he did amazing out there. He hugged you back tightly, telling you thank you. 

“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand as he wanted to go to his dressing room as you always did after his shows. 

“Oh, uh, actually,” you pulled your hand back, causing him to stop walking. “I’m going out to dinner with Alex…” you said nervously, and he raised his eyebrows, looking down the hall and noticing Alex talking to Adam. 

“Oh okay, yeah. Go ahead,” he let go of your hand, completely dropping it from his as his face dropped. In that moment, you wished you didn’t say yes to Alex and went with Harry to his dressing room. This would be the first time you were going to miss out on dressing room chats as he calmed down from his energetic state from being on stage. It would be the first time you weren’t going back to the hotel with him while holding his hand in the car and up to your rooms. 

“Hey,” Alex caught up to you, not feeling the tension between you and Harry. “Ready to go?” You looked up at him briefly, placing a fake smile on your face before looking back at Harry who already had his back turned towards you, walking to his room. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

21 June 2018

The prospect of not talking to Harry as much hurt you a bit. 

You haven’t had a full conversation with him in about two weeks. The most you’ve ever spoken to him was when someone was looking for him or if he was clearing up and clarifying his schedule. But other than that, nothing. You didn’t know why it was like that, but you tried not to let it get to you as you told yourself that he was tired from the tour. He was on the last month of tour and the flying had definitely caught up to him. 

But that wasn’t the real reason. 

You have been going out with Alex ever since that night in Dallas, and you thought it was nice to have someone to talk to other than Harry and the rest of the crew and band--although they’re very nice and fun people, you saw them everyday. And you came to find out that Alex was even more fun once you’ve gotten to know him even more. 

Alex made you feel free. There was something refreshing about hanging out with him that made you want more, and he definitely took your mind off of thinking about Harry... by having his tongue down your throat and inside of you. There have been plenty of pleasurable times when Alex had made you feel good, and vice versa. It started out in the night at Fort Lauderdale, two days after Dallas, and you went out with Alex to a bar in the city. Both of you had too much to drink and he asked if you wanted to go over to his hotel, which of course you said yes. One thing led to another, and you were underneath him, moaning his name out. Ever since then, he would watch every other show and you two would have date nights that took the night away into a hotel room. 

It was nice, and he liked you and you liked him back. 

Liked him as much as Harry? Not quite. But there were definitely a little bit of feelings for him. Besides, he calls you nice things and tells you you’re pretty. 

It was Harry’s first New York show in Madison Square Garden as a solo artist, and he was pumped, but also a little nervous. You were so incredibly proud of him and what he’s done in his career, so you were happy for him. And you were happy to be back home for a few days as well because you haven’t been home since the beginning of the month. 

Alex stood next to you with an arm around your shoulder the entire time of Harry’s show. He was wearing a custom Gucci white suit with flowers printed all over and the phrase ‘Memento Mori’ underneath it. The lapel part of the suit was a velvet material and he wore a black shirt underneath. The trousers were flared from the knee down, and you absolutely loved it. 

When the show was over, you and Alex headed backstage to meet with the band. You had expected that he wanted to get dinner already, but he hadn’t mentioned anything, so you assumed that you were going to go back to your hotel and hang out with him there. 

“Lovely show, H,” you hugged him tightly, but he didn’t reciprocate the same energy into the hug like you, and you found that odd because he usually hugs you tight. 

“Thanks,” he smiled softly, shaking Alex’s hand before thanking him for coming to the show. 

You turned towards Alex and asked, “What’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Oh, I was going to tell you, but I’m hanging out with a couple of friends from college that live here. So, I can't hang out with you tonight. I’m sorry,” he slightly pouted. “I’ve got to get going now though, so I’ll see you tomorrow?” You nodded understandingly. 

“Yeah, definitely. Probably best we don’t hang out all the time because I don’t want you to get tired of me,” you joked, and he shook his head no. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me,” you told him before he gave you a kiss on the lips before heading towards the exit. 

Harry had watched the whole interaction with a small frown. He tried to contain his jealousy when he saw Alex kiss you and you smiling, but it was difficult for him to not scoff loudly, so he turned around and walked towards his dressing room. You turned around to find Harry missing, and you assumed he went to his dressing room, so you headed over there. You knocked on the door before entering, and you found him on the couch with his phone in his hands. 

“Hey,” you smiled, sitting on the couch as he muttered a ‘hi.’ “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, what makes you think I’m not?” He said defensively, and you furrowed your brows. 

“I never said you weren’t. I just wanted to make sure you were. I haven’t talked to you in a while.” 

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he whispered under his breath before continuing to scroll through his phone. 

There was a bit of a silence, and unfortunately, it was an awkward one. You didn’t feel needed in the dressing room, but you sat there awkwardly as you didn’t know what to say to him. 

“You’re seeing Alex?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah. Just hanging out with him,” you got up to grab a water bottle from the table, and you opened it, taking a sip. 

“So, you’re fucking him?” He said casually, but you choked on your water, immediately coughing. Once you calmed down, you looked at him with watered eyes. 

“Uh…” 

“You can tell me,” he said sternly. 

“I mean, yeah, we had sex a few times, but there’s no label or anything like that. We’re just hanging out,” you told him, and he nodded. 

“Do you like him?” He raised his brows, and you took a deep breath, wondering what all these questions were for. 

“I think so, but-”

“Good, he’s a good guy,” he interrupted you. You liked Alex, yeah, but comparing your feelings for Alex to Harry...unmatchable. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said, getting up from the couch before grabbing a towel from the vanity and walking out of the dressing room. Once he left, you were alone in the dressing room. You sighed deeply as you buried your face in your hands. 

“Yeah, sure I am.”

22 June 2018

The sound of ringing had woken you up from your slumber. 

You groaned as you tried to make out where your phone might be on your bedside table with your eyes closed, but you were hitting empty spots, so you opened one eye and grabbed your phone. 

“Hello?” Your morning voice coming out through the speaker. 

“Y/N. Can you come by, like right now?” It was Harry on the phone, and you groaned. After the night prior, you thought he didn’t want to talk to you, but seeing as you’re still his assistant, of course he would call you. 

“Why must you call me at,” you pulled your phone back to look at the time, “six in the morning?” 

“Please. It’s important. I have some stuff I need you to do,” he pleaded, and you stretched your limbs out, making inhumane noises while still being on the phone, and Harry chuckled. 

“Fine. Be there in like twenty.”

“Thank you, angel! See you.”

He must be in an awfully good mood this morning, you thought. And it’s been a while since you heard your pet name, but you brushed it off and got ready. 

You unlocked the door of Harry’s house, letting yourself in. You found him sitting on the couch, reading a book until he looked up at the door and saw you. He got up and walked towards you, and opened his arms, giving you a big hug. 

“Hey, angel. Thanks for coming by,” he said into your ear, leaving you in goosebumps. 

“Course. Everything okay?” You asked once you pulled away. 

“Yeah. I miss you, y’know. Feel like we haven’t spoken in a while,” he trailed off a bit, and you squint your eyes at him. 

“I sense a ‘but,’” you said, and he chuckled. 

“I actually need you to get these for me, if that’s okay? Just need them before the show,” he handed you a list, and you looked at it. 

The items were something similar as before: a bouquet of flowers and a gift basket with various types of snacks. As you read through it, that’s when you knew and your heart sank. 

“So who is it?” Harry looked at you curiously, and you waved around the list up. “Who are you dating?” 

“Oh, this girl I met through a mutual friend. She actually was at the Dallas show and we met after at a bar. She’s in the fashion industry; her name is Rena,” he explained with a smile. “She’s coming to the show tonight, so I just wanted to get her a little something.” 

“Okay, I’m on it. I’ll see you tonight,” you headed out, figuring since you had nothing else to do, you could stretch your errands out until the show. You decided to have breakfast first and get some coffee since it was quite early still, and enjoy a day to yourself until Harry introduces you to yet another girl. 

Rena was a nice lady. She was two years older than you and Harry, and she was drop dead gorgeous. You’ve never seen anyone this stunning up close. She always had the sweetest smile, and you were contemplating if she was real or not, and why Harry is calling you ‘angel’ and not her. It was difficult to hate her, and it’s not like you wanted to, but considering that you have feelings for Harry, you wanted something to be wrong about her--maybe a Brooke 2.0, but she was so kind to you, and she loved everything that was gifted to her from Harry, even if the items were the smallest things. So, there were no complaints. 

Harry seemed happy with her, so that’s all that mattered. 

1 July 2018

It seemed like Rena was around all the time now, like she was at every show since night two in New York. You tried to busy yourself by going around the town you were in or talking to Alex, but you missed Harry. It was always like this when he was dating someone; the first few months, he would completely forget about you and always hang out with the person, but once he starts settling in, he wants to talk to you. And since he’s only been dating Rena for a month, he hasn’t been talking to you lately. 

You watched Harry on stage in St. Paul next to Rena, Alex, and Jeff as Harry was wearing a sparkly pink Gucci shirt with a pussybow on the front and some black trousers. The energy in the room was amazing. By far it was the best performance of ‘Medicine’ you’ve seen him perform. He even held out a pair of handcuffs in front of the crowd, making them go crazy, and he looked up at your section, glancing at Rena before smirking, making you cringe a tad bit as she cheered. 

At the end of the show, you greeted the band, and immediately Rena was attached to Harry, which made you impatient because you wanted to hug him like you always do. But they were wrapped in each other’s arms as they kissed, no plans of letting go of one another. 

“Hey, wanna head out?” Alex asked. You still hadn’t said hello to Harry, but you figured you could text him later, so you nodded, glancing back at the two of them and walked out with Alex. He took you to a diner that wasn’t too far from the hotel and you both ate breakfast for a midnight meal because breakfast simply hits differently when it’s at an unusual hour. Alex then walked you back to the hotel room, and you were exhausted by this point. You just wanted to get out of your shoes and sleep for a very long time. You were lucky that you weren’t sharing a room with Alex because sometimes you just needed to be alone, and this moment was that time. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said, stopping in front of your room and your brows raised as he continued. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, and I really like you, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to be my girlfriend.”

You had expected anything else, but that question. Your heart beat practically stopped for a moment as you looked at him, wondering if he was serious, and when he didn’t say he was joking, you realized that he was actually being serious. 

“Oh, uhm…”

“It’s been fun getting to know you and travelling to these places with you, so I figured it was time to ask you.”

“Alex...you’re a really nice guy, but I’m just not sure I can be your girlfriend,” you told him honestly, and his brows furrowed. 

“Why’s that?”

“I-I like you, but I feel like my feelings for you aren’t 100% there when it comes to being your girlfriend.” He only nodded, and you were getting quite anxious when he didn’t say anything. 

He then started laughing, pacing around in the hallway and you crossed your arms. 

“That’s hilarious,” he said. 

“What-”

“No, the only reason you don’t want to be with me is because you’re in love with someone else!” His voice raised, making the hallway echo a bit. You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Yeah. I know you’re in love with Harry. Noticed that the first time I met you; that you were staring right at someone that wasn’t yours, but desperately wanted to be.”

“I…” you were speechless. Had you really been that obvious about your feelings towards Harry that everyone around you noticed? 

“It’s a shame though, isn’t it?” He had a grin of the devil; mischievously and humiliating. You looked at him nervously, urging him to continue. “You’re in love with someone that doesn’t even want you,” he stated. “That doesn’t look your way for a second when he thinks about a relationship because you’re only his assistant. Not once would he look your way down the street if you weren’t working for him,” he looked you up and down, and your eyes started watering, and you were embarrassed that you were about to cry in front of Alex as he crushed you in every possible way. “It’s okay, don’t cry. You have me,” he opened his arms to take you in for a hug, but you physically pushed him away because now you were angry. 

“I have you? Are you fucking kidding me? After you just humiliated me?” You were breathing out through your nose as your tears made their way down your cheeks. 

“Hey, I’m just telling you the truth-”

“Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend?” You asked, genuinely confused on his logic. 

“Well, the question that you’re supposed to be asking is why did I talk to you in the first place?” 

“Why did you?” 

“Since you want to know so bad,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. “When I saw you, I definitely liked you, but then I saw you were giving heart eyes to Harry, so I thought I could change your mind. See if I could switch your feelings up,” he chuckled. 

“So, this was some sort of experiment? Guessing your hypothesis was wrong then, huh? Go ahead and write your conclusion as: fucked her, but dick wasn’t good enough to fall in love. So, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes and opened the door before slamming it shut in his face. Your back was leaning against the door as more that you’ve been holding onto fell from your face as you heard him still talk. 

“You’ll never be like Brooke or Rena, or whoever he dates in the future! You’re nothing to him!” He yelled through the door as his words came out muffled. 

Sliding down the door, you finally heard him leave, and you were full on sobbing. You tried not to let his words get the better of you, but the way Alex spat them out so easily, it was hard not to. 

Because what if he’s right. 

7 July 2018

Harry noticed that you had been feeling off the entire week. 

It was like you were simply existing, but not present in some moments when people would talk to you. You had this dull look on your face, and it wasn’t the same as your bright and happy look that he looked forward to everyday. He noticed it when everyone was leaving from Minnesota, and he told himself that it was because you were tired, which was true, but he didn’t know the whole reason. 

After the show in Seattle, he didn’t see you like he used to, and he wondered where you or if you even watched the show. Once he high fived and talked to everyone for a bit, he headed to his dressing room, hoping that you were in there, but you weren’t. So now, he was worried. 

H: Hey, where are you? He texted. Luckily, Rena wasn’t around anymore because she would want all his attention after the show. He simply couldn’t take someone being so clingy, so he called things off with her. It may have also had to do with the fact that he didn’t want to hide his feelings anymore, and being with other people just wasn’t working for him anymore. Not when you were in front of him. 

It’s been a long time coming now, and he felt stupid for not telling you in the first place since he’s been in love with you since last year--during the time he was with Brooke. He was honestly afraid to tell you, and when he heard Brooke say it, he just felt so much shock run through him, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have an excuse as to why he got with other people while being in love with you, but it just made him feel in control of himself because he couldn’t control his feelings towards you, so he got scared. So, he decided that when everyone gets to California in two days, he’s going to confess his entire feelings for you. 

Harry walked to your hotel room, knocking on it as he waited for you to answer. He could hear shuffling and movement through the door, and he hoped to god that Alex wasn’t in there with you. 

“Who is it?” You said through the door, softly. 

“Angel, it’s Harry. Can I see you?” He asked. There was a pause, but then he heard the door handle rattled as you opened the door. 

Your face was a crying mess and your hair was up in a very messy bun. Harry’s mouth opened slightly as he concerningly asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His question and concern had made you sob even more as you shook your head. “C’mere,” he pulled you in for a hug and you sobbed into his chest as he walked you over to the edge of your bed. He observed your room and saw that there were a stack of clothes folded on the other bed along with your open luggage with some of your belongings inside. “Angel, what’s going on?” You pulled your head out of his chest to look at him, knowing that he was probably wondering why you were packing; and he had a sad expression on his face. 

“I’m leaving,” you simply said. 

“Leaving? Where are you going?” His brows furrowed. 

“I’m going back home.” 

“W-What? Why?” 

“I can’t be your assistant anymore, Harry,” you cried, and Harry’s heart sank as his jaw dropped. 

“What are you talking about? A-Are you quitting?” You stood up, placing the stack of clothes in your luggage as you sorted them. 

“Y-Yeah,” you said quietly, and Harry has never been more confused in his life. 

“W-What did I do wrong? I’m sorry we haven’t been seeing each other lately, but I promise after tour-”

“No, no. It’s not you, I promise,” you shook your head. In this moment, you felt like you should tell him everything because he deserved an explanation from you. “Please, listen, okay?” He nodded. You walked to sit on the desk chair in front Harry as he sat on the edge of the bed. You proceeded to tell him everything that Alex said from him asking you to be his girlfriend to you saying no. “He said these mean things that-”

“What the fuck did he say?” He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. 

“Just listen,” you stopped him. “He said those things because I’m in love with someone else…I’m in love with you, and you probably heard Brooke say that, but you didn’t say anything, so I just assumed that you didn’t want to believe it.” It was the words Harry has been wanting to hear and he went to open his mouth, but you immediately started talking again. “I have been ever since I started working for you, and I thought it was just a crush on my boss, but it’s way more than that. Alex told me I’m not good enough for you and that you would never love me, and I think that’s true-” 

“No! That’s not true! I love-”

“Please, don’t,” you shook your head as you sobbed. You’ve been waiting for years to hear those words, but you knew that you couldn’t hear them just yet. “Don’t say those words because I’m leaving and to prove Alex wrong.” 

“I’m not trying to prove him wrong, it’s true,” Harry’s eyes watered, and you sighed.

“What he said got me thinking…I go to all these stores and pick shit up for your love interests, sending me a list of all their favorite things, and wishing that they were for me. And in the midst of it, I realized you don’t know what my favorite flower is! I’ve been hurting for so long that I covered it up everytime and put a fake smile on my face just to see you happy.”

“Your favorite flower is-”

“I just really think that I deserve to be happy as well,” you nodded your head as a way to try and convince yourself. 

“You do deserve to be happy, angel baby. But we can be happy together? I-I… want you here. With me.” His voice was filled with hope, and it only made it harder for you. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, burying your face in your hands. “I want that so bad. I do, H. But I really need to be happy with myself and by myself first. I depended on you and the others around me a lot, and I just didn’t save that love for myself, so…I need to leave,” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks. 

“And when you come back?” 

“I don’t know when that will be or what’s going to happen, but I’m not asking you to wait for me or anything because you should live your life. But when I come back, I’ll call you, and we’ll talk,” you told him, and it seemed like you had everything planned already, but you were just as lost as he was. He dropped his head, crying into his hands. You rolled your chair closer to him, grabbing his wrists, and he lifted his head. “We’ll be alright, okay? Just need a little time to myself.” He nodded, sniffling. 

You stood up and walked over to your luggage, zipping it closed before you looked around to see if you forgot anything. Harry stood up and walked over to you, grabbed your wrists, and pulled you to him, giving you a hug. His face was buried in your neck and you felt him press kisses against your skin as he cried. 

“You’ll be back?” The pain in his voice was enough to tip you over the edge of bawling. 

“Yeah, I’ll be back,” you said in between sniffs. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a while; get a job back in Oregon,” you told him, so he’s not completely out of the loop. He pulled back, looking down at you. 

“When you come back, your job will always be here.” You smiled sadly, raising your hand to caress his cheek. 

“We’ll see, okay? But I have to go to the airport now. My flight is in two hours,” you managed to free yourself from his grasp as it tightened so you wouldn’t go, but you really had to. 

“Let me drop you off?” He offered, and you shook your head. 

“No, it’s only going to make this harder,” you said, grabbing your luggage and backpack. “Have a great rest of the tour, alright? Take care of yourself,” you placed your palm on his cheek again, looking in his sad eyes before you reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you, honey.”

You walked out of the room with no glance back at him, and Harry was alone in your hotel room, and it was the last memory of you that would be ingrained in his mind forever. 

14 July 2018 

The crowd cheered loud for Harry for his final show in Los Angeles. He overwhelmingly smiled as he took a deep breath before continuing onto the next song. Everyone seemed to know what the next song on the set list was, so the room went a bit quiet as the crowd turned on their flashlights as the lights went completely dark, and the only thing was heard was the strumming of the guitar. 

Woke up alone in this hotel room… As he sang, he took in his own lyrics, feeling like they really related to him at the moment despite writing the song two years ago. Harry sang with every emotion in him as he let it all out in the dark room that was silent, and the only thing he heard was his voice and the guitar that was played by Mitch. 

We haven’t spoke since you went away…He had thought of you every night he sang this song since you left in Seattle, and it pained him that there was no contact between you ever since you left, but he figured that was what you wanted. What you needed. 

Comfortable silence is so overrated… The moments when there would be silence between you two, he hated looking back at those moments because he knew he should’ve said something, you would’ve still been here. 

Why won’t you ever say what you want to say? Why didn’t you say anything, Harry? 

Even my phone misses your call, by the way…He missed your contact name pop up on his phone that went along with his contact picture for you. You were smiling bright as you ate ice cream. It was a summer day in New York and really warm outside, so you decided you two took a break from running around and got some ice cream. You were so happy that day, and he was happy he got it on camera. 

Harry would often find himself looking at your pictures together; trying to pinpoint the exact moment you knew you were in love with him. Your smile always made his day, and it broke his heart knowing that he wouldn’t get to see that smile for a long while--at least he hoped it’s not a long time till he gets to see you again. Since, he knew when his feelings had progressed, he looked back on the pictures when he knew he fell hard. His smile had gotten bigger and the look he gave you was full of love, and he wished that you saw how he looked at you. 

He missed you so much. 

13 December 2019

It took you quite a while since you felt whole again. 

You hadn’t felt so empty as you had been when you left Seattle. The year and a half you spent back at home really helped you with that. You were able to find yourself again; spending time with your family and with yourself was something so refreshing that you cherished every moment with them. You learned a lot about yourself, and you reshaped your own worth and values. You came back stronger than ever and you’ve never been happier than you are now. 

You nervously walked over to the section you were going to be sitting in. The room was dark and the crowd was absolutely wild as they were finally seeing the one person they’ve been waiting for. You looked down, watching your step as you held your phone with the flashlight on your feet as they stepped onto the red floor of the pit, until you saw the familiar faces you’ve been looking for. 

“Y/N! There you are!” Glenne smiled, taking you in for a hug. “I’ve missed you babe,” she said in your ear as you hugged her tight. 

“I missed you too, so much.”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s good to see you again,” Jeff said, giving you a warm embrace. 

The music was playing and the crowd had gotten louder as the man of the hour finally stepped on stage, and all the spotlights were pointed on him. You watched him as he walked down from the high stage to the main stage, grabbing his guitar as said hello to everyone before strumming the first note. 

As you remembered, he was amazing on stage as he wore the same outfit as the album cover. He ignited the crowd with his charm and voice that left people in tears from being so overwhelmed by him. You felt overwhelmed as well; seeing him for the first time in a year and a half had made you quite emotional. 

You knew you wanted to go to Harry’s ‘One Night Only’ show when he first announced it. From keeping in contact with him, you figured you could keep in contact with updates of him, and what he’s up to these days. You streamed his music, watched his music videos, and stayed up late just to hear a snippet of him on the radio. You were always excited when you would get the notification on your phone of new pictures and videos of him because that was the only way you were able to see him. You found out that he had spent quite some time in Japan towards the end of last year and the beginning of this year. You really hoped he was doing okay. During the days of finding yourself, the thought of seeing him again had scared you, and you weren’t ready for that, so you waited until this day to see him. 

So, at the beginning of the week, you had texted Glenne that you wanted to go to the show, and she immediately said yes, putting your name on the list. You told her not to tell Harry just yet because you wanted to surprise him, and she was on board with the idea as was Jeff. 

They were both really supportive of you during your times sulking and growing, and Glenne had even visited you in Oregon to make sure you were okay and simply just missing you. You were really thankful for both of them because you knew that it was hard to see their two friends in pain, but you were glad that they supported your decision. Glenne had always known that you were in love with Harry, and you told her ever since you figured your feelings out. But you had made her swear on her life and Jeff’s that she wouldn’t say a word about it to anyone, not even Jeff (although Jeff saw it coming). 

“He’s going to be so happy to see you and know that you’re here,” Glenne said to you as the beginning of ‘Fine Line’ was starting. You thought the album was an  absolute masterpiece that was composed of beautiful lyrics, melodies, and emotion. You made sure to dance and cheer for the songs you didn’t know the words to extra loud, and you sang to the ones you knew without hesitation. You stayed up all night, listening to the album multiple times on repeat and trying to get the words down, and you were sure everyone did the same. 

As you listened to Harry sing the outro and the words ‘We’ll be alright’ coming out so effortlessly, you were reminded of your words to him as you left the hotel room. The song was quite hard hitting and you felt every inch of your skin cover in goosebumps. 

You practically lost your shit when Stevie Nicks came out and performed ‘Landslide’ with him, and when he sang ‘Wonderful Christmas Time’ while fake snow was falling from the ceiling. Before you knew it, Harry was in the middle of singing ‘Kiwi,’ and Glenne tapped your arm, telling you to follow her and you knew that you three were going backstage already. You felt butterflies in your stomach, feeling really nervous to see him again up close after a year and a half; and you only hoped that he was happy to see you as well. 

You heard the muffled final beat of the song as the crowd loudly cheered for him, telling him to do another song, but you knew that it was the end of the show. Jeff had walked way ahead of you both to grab Harry really quick, so he could point his attention towards you. Your hands were shaking as your arm was looped with Glenne’s as she provided physical support for you, holding you up, and continuously telling you that he’s going to be so ecstatic. 

Cheers erupted from the crew as everyone hugged each other, proud and happy of the success of Harry’s first show of his sophomore album. Once you were close enough, you could make out everyone’s faces. The band was there along with Harry’s friends and producers that had written the album with him. Finally, there was Harry; his back was facing you as he hugged Jeff, and Jeff gave you an amusing smile as he hugged his best friend. You heard him whisper into Harry’s ear, and Harry pulled back, saying, “What?” 

Jeff nodded, and Harry quickly turned around. His face was pulled into a shocked expression as his eyes widened and his body was practically frozen as he took in your presence. You smiled softly, waiting for him to say or do something because you didn’t know how he felt with you being here on his special night. 

Finally, he took two long strides towards you, pulling you in for a hug. Your body collided with his, and smiled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his tone body. 

“How are you?” You whispered in his ear as you practically felt him shaking in your arms. 

“I’m doing good. Better now,” he said softly. “What the fuck are you doing here, angel?” He chuckled, finally realizing that you were here in his arms. The sound of your pet name had widened your smile as your eyes watered; feeling so happy that you finally got to hear that name come from out of his mouth again. 

“Came to see you,” you said in his neck. He pulled back, looking at you in the eye before smiling like crazy as he took you in his arms again. He felt like he was on the moon; the overwhelming feeling of the feedback from the album, the show, and now finally getting to see you for the first time in a very long time—he truly couldn’t believe it, so he held you tight, not wanting to let you go as he felt like if he did, then you would vanish again. You felt his hesitancy or not wanting to let you go, so you whispered in his ear, “Hey, I’m here. Not leaving.” 

He eventually pulled back, and noticed everyone that gathered around you two, and smiles were on their faces with their hands over their hearts. They all had really witnessed Harry struggle the past year and a half; from song writing, recording, rehearsing, and just being present. They really saw Harry at his lowest, and now they're happy to finally see him happy now that you’re here. 

“I-I have to go meet some people and take some pictures, but do you think, uhm…” he trailed off, realizing that he might be acting too eager. 

“H, I’m right here. Do what you have to do, and I’ll wait for you, alright?” You told him with a smile, and he nodded. He didn’t want to walk away from you, but you knew that some people were waiting for him, so he had to leave. He gave you one last hug, which brightened your smile, and he walked down the hall of The Forum. “Stay in my dressing room!” He called out, and you laughed, remembering the talks and moments in his dressing room after his shows. 

Heading over to his dressing room, you stopped to say hi to everyone as they excitedly greeted you. You couldn’t believe that you were here again. The journey to get here was a struggle, but reuniting with everyone had made it so worth it—seeing Harry again was worth it, and you knew that you had to do it. 

After an hour of catching up with the crew and band, and sitting on his couch, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the Fine Line Booklet that contained pictures of Harry in the process of recording his album, he finally showed up. Sighing as he walked in from the rush of the entire day, once he saw your face again, he knew he wasn’t in the state of dreaming because you were really here. 

He took a seat on the couch next to you, taking your hand in his. He hesitantly raised your hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of it; you smiled at the sweet gesture, caressing your thumb against his hand. 

“How are you, angel?” He asked, softly smiling as he was trying to contain his excitement that you’re finally here. 

“I’m good, H. I’m happy,” you said, and hearing that made Harry’s eyes glossy because that’s all he wanted from you. He wanted you to be happy; with yourself, with others, and with life. 

“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he smiled, dimples poking out. You reached over to caress his cheek, rubbing his dimple out, and he turned his head to kiss the inside of your hand. 

“I want to hear everything from you--catch me up on everything?” He nodded eagerly, wanting that from you too. 

“Security said that the parking lot is empty now because they had to practically kick everyone out, so there’s no one out there, but what do you say we go out there and walk around the parking lot?” He suggested. It was almost midnight, and despite being exhausted and overwhelmed by this whole day, he’d rather stay up and talk for hours with you. 

“Are you sure? You’re not tired?” You asked, and he shook your head. 

“No, not at all. It’s been a year and a half since I last saw you. I want to spend time with you.”

“Okay, I’d like that,” you smiled, and he nodded, telling you that he was going to change really quick. He walked over to his duffel bag, grabbing some clothes before walking over to the changing room that was in his dressing room. Before he walked in, he turned around, facing you. 

“Hey.” You perked up, smiling. He missed your smile so damn much. “Your favorite flower is a baby pink peony,” he said before walking into the room. 

You were immediately taken back to the night when you had left when you had told him that he didn’t know what your favorite flower was, but all this time, he knew. He had always known. 

Walking towards the exit of the venue, the night was dark as the moon shined from up above you. With cold air rushing through you, you shivered, and Harry smiled next to you as you two walked through the emptiness of the parking lot. Before you two even spoke a word on how to go about having the ‘catch up’ conversation, you sensed Harry’s nervousness as he felt a bit hesitant with you because of the distance and time spent apart. But you wanted to remind him that you were the same person. You had the same feelings for him, and you really hoped he had some feelings for you too. 

So, you brushed your left hand against his right hand, cheeks flushed, and you interlock your fingers together, holding his warm ringed hand with your small one. 

This was it--this moment right here. This was where you were supposed to be. 

please come into my inbox and tell me how you’re feeling and what you thought of this! she was an emotional one :’)

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[roscgcld]

NANAMI KENTO + GOJO SATORU || the one that got away

request: i'm literally in love with your fics- i was wondering if you could write a Nanami x reader x Gojo where Nanami and the reader were dating before he left Jujutsu Tech, but they break up when he leaves. When he comes back he realizes he's still in love with the reader but she's engaged to Gojo and there's just a bunch of angst and tension. Sorry ik that's a lot :') But ty!!

note: lowkey thought you wanted a nanami x reader x gojo and i was like ‘oh babes am so ready-’ until i rer-read your request lmao! but honestly this was a lot of fun to write. tbh, if i was reader I would choose nanami cause rn am a whole ass SIMP for the man that is nanmi kento cx but i hope i managed to capture what you wanted in this request babes!

pronouns: she/her

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Those six words were engrained into the mind of Nanami Kento for the rest of his life. Those six words were the words that tossed his world upside down - and every time those words came into mind, the imagine of your crying face comes with it. 

You were so distraught, yet you put up a brave front as you gave him a shaky smile - something that he loves so much about you. That even though his explanation as to why you two should break up was childish, selfish even; you still go the extra mile to make sure that he knows you understand. That you understand why he wants to take a break so that he can focus on himself and his career.

“I understand, Nami...just know I love you, okay?”

Your simple words, coupled with your tearful eyes and watery smile made him want to take back the words as soon as possible. That he wants to just turn back time and just admit to himself that he was going to regret his decision. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to. If he did go back in time and stopped, he might end up breaking your heart again; if not with more bitterness and anger. 

When he was young, he hated that he was a jujutsu sorcerer - hated how he has this responsibility over him that he never asked for. He just wanted to be free from the jujutsu world and never look back. You were different - you were so proud that you were a jujutsu sorcerer, always a beacon of light in the dark reality that is being a sorcerer. Somehow you made it bearable for him, and at one point he thought he can do it for the rest of his life. Until after the death of Haibara Yu, a classmate that the both of you call a dear friend.

It was at that moment that he snapped, and he knew he didn’t want to do this anymore.

Yet he couldn’t force himself to drag you away from something you love so dearly, something you see as your duty to protect. He knew that either way he was going to be selfish, and either way tears were going to be shed; so he chose the one that would hurt the least. However, now years down the line, he still thinks that maybe things could have worked out. There was no denying that he still loves you - even though he keeps in touch with his senior, Gojo Satoru, from time to time, he doesn’t ask about you.

From what he knows, you stayed back in Jujutsu Tech and became a teacher, but that is all he knows about you. He was too scared, too embarrassed to face you once more - because he knows better then to dream. Dream that the promise you promised to keep as teens was going to hold up now that the both of you were in your late twenties.

But there is no harm in dreaming, right?

Nanami checked his watch as he got off the train, making his way towards the bus station located right outside of the building. It was his first time back at the college after being away from it for a few years, since he had called Gojo the other day on asking about if there is an opening for him to return as a sorcerer.

Even though Gojo can be a huge pain in the ass to deal with, Nanami knew that if there was anyone who can confirm a space for him at work, it will be Gojo Satoru.

Walking out of the crowded station, he looked up just in time to see the white haired shaman waiting for him at the entrance; who grinned and waved when he saw his junior. “Nanami! I knew you were not going to be late.” Gojo called out to the man dressed in a fresh grey suit and blue shirt underneath; his spotted tie knotted around his neck. The bespectacled man just sighs tiredly and made his way towards his overly excited senior, scowling when the taller male draped an arm around his shoulders.

He opened his mouth to say something when he noticed the ring that was resting on Gojo’s left ring finger, causing him to raise a curious eyebrow as he allowed the older male to lead him along. “You got married?” He asks the taller male, who glances at his hand before he grins and shakes his head, flexing his hand a little to show off the simple band around his ring finger. “Nah, we just got engaged. We are planning for the wedding though.” He stated simple, to which Nanami glances over at his senior in surprise. “What? Thought that I was too good to be married off?”

“No, I am surprised that you somehow managed to find someone willing to chain themselves down with you.”

“How mean!” Gojo gasps before he shakes his head in amusement, playfully squeezing his junior who just scowls lightly. “For your information, we’ve been dating for the last 4 years. And we have both talked about marriage before, so I wasn’t blindly shooting into the dark when I proposed.” Gojo commented as the two of them made their way towards the taxi stand, where Ijichi greeted his two seniors with a soft bow; all three men getting into the car. “Still surprised they said yes.”

Gojo just pouts and whines at his junior, who just listened to him with his deadpan expression the entire way to the college. He was surprised that Gojo managed to come on time to pick him up, since he had expected for him to be late, and for him to have either taken the bus or hailed a taxi on his own. But he didn’t really mind; he’s used to handling Gojo’s childish personality, and he gets a free ride at the same time. So he doesn’t mind the brief ride with Gojo.

Soon they arrived at the wooded area where the college is located on, getting out of the car once Ijichi stops the car. Quietly Nanami got out of the car and squints his eyes a little at the sunlight that shone down on him, his eyes slowly focusing on the grand temple-like compound that is Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. “Feels weird to be back?”

“A bit.” Nanami admitted to Gojo when he walked from the other side of the car to Nanami’s side, the man just chuckling before he gestures for him made his way through the gates and into the campus, immediately being hit with all the nostalgia of being a student once more. It felt like a light weight was being lifted off his shoulders as he soaks everything in, like the guilt of him leaving his duties as a sorcerer behind has been lifted.

The two men made their way deeper into the college just as someone called out to Gojo from behind, causing both men to pause as they turned to look back. Immediately Nanami felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes finally settled onto you, a warm smile gracing your features as you made your way towards the both of them. Nanami was so stuffed that he didn’t catch the way Gojo grins and opens his arms for you, watching the two of you embrace one another as a sinking feeling when he saw the delighted grin on your face.

The same grin that you used to give him after not seeing you for awhile. 

Somehow Nanami managed to keep up an indifferent façade as you embraced your fiancée, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek in greeting whilst Gojo just nuzzles closer to you; in an attempt to milk all of the attention he can from you. “How needy.” You giggled at him before you turned to the man beside your fiancé with the intension of greeting him; only to freeze up when you realise who it was. “K-Kento?”

“Nice to see you again, Y/N.” Nanami greeted in his usual indifferent tone, trying to hide his heartbroken eyes beneath the shadow of his sunglasses as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “I guess some congratulations are to be said.” He stated simply before he gestures to your left ring finger, where a simple yet beautiful engagement ring rested on your finger. For some reason your heart sank as you awkwardly hid your hand behind your back, causing Gojo to raise an eyebrow as he glances between the both of you.

Was there something going on between the two of you?

“O-Oh, thanks.” You mumble out awkwardly, knowing immediately that Nanami was no longer in his usual indifferent mood. You can feel the slight hurt in his voice, one that causes your heart to break a little; bringing you back to the day you two broke up. How you promised to keep loving him until he was ready to return - yet here you are now, engaged to another man. It wasn’t like you fell out of love with him, you still love Nanami with all your heart, but that love had started to shift the years you two spend apart. And somehow, you started to fall for the white haired shaman known as Gojo Satoru.

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t feel any guilt for how evil you might seem to your ex for stringing him along like that. “I wasn’t expected to see you here.”

“I decided to come back.” Nanami stated simply with a shrug, glancing over at your quiet fiancé who blinks at him owlishly back at him. “Plus, Gojo here told me about a student of his by the name Itadori Yuji that I am supposed to take under my wing.” He continued, giving Gojo the chance to jump in as he smiles down at you, squeezing your shoulders gently. “That’s right! Kento-kun here said he wanted to come back! So his first job is to supervise Yuji-kun.”

“Oh.” You replied in a small tone, unsure of how to answer at all. But luckily Nanami stepped in before the awkward silence can drag on for long, pulling the sleeve of his jacket off his watch to check the time. “I don’t want to get in the way of your free time now, Y/N-san. I am going to go and rest up in my room before dinner is served.” He stated simply before bowing at the both of you, not meeting your eyes. “Excuse me.” 

With that he turned to walk away, forcing himself to not look back at you as he made his way down the familiar hallways towards the dorms; the keys to the room he is to stay at for the time being clutched in his hand after he slipped it into his pocket. What was I thinking? He thought to himself as he continued his way down the empty hallway to the dormitories. Did I really think an amazing woman like that will wait for me? 

He sighed to himself as he shakes his head a little, slipping his polished dress shoes off his feet before putting them on one of the free cubbies built into the wall; grabbing a pair of the guest slippers before he puts them on. “At least she managed to get engaged to Gojo. He’s definitely worthy of her love.” He mutters to himself, reminding himself to be happy that you found happiness. He doesn’t blame you for finding love once more - when he left this life behind, he also left you.

No call, no text, no attempt to reach out. Was he expected you to just fall into his arms once more? Pretend that nothing happened, and to go back to where you two once were? That thought alone caused him to let out a soft snort as he made his way towards the locked room, unlocking it with his keys. “Don’t be foolish, Kento. Be happy that she’s happy.” He mutters to himself as he entered his new room, closing the door behind him with a tired sigh.

“Guess you really were the one that got away.”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker/Platonic! Crows x fem! Reader - Silence

A/n: So I know I haven't been very active lately but hopefully that will change! Also I don't really love this fic it's not very good and I might rewrite it in the future but for now, you guys can enjoy this shit!!!

Warnings: Abuse, sexual abuse, rape, violence, mentions of death, technically mentions of suicide, THIS FIC IS A MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

Summary: They used to be happy. That’s what Jesper says anyways about his sister. When he’s asked where it all went wrong it’s usually responded with an I have no idea. When Kaz comes to confront them in front of the Crows why you came back all bloodied and carrying back a body, they know this isn’t going to end well…

Death clung to you. That's what people muttered in the streets of Ketterdam, 'if the Blackbird is on a strike don't go outside for a week and remember, pray to the saint who wears the most colour.'

Great bedtime stories for children.

Your legend would never end, though it must have begun somewhere. Someone who you decided could witness one of your killings must have made up a story. Started it up and told it in fright to someone and the people not believing a word they say. Before their dead of course. And then it spreads like the plague.

The Blackbird was once a hopeful girl, full of dreams and happiness. She had beautiful feathers of all different kinds of colours, and they sang to the heavens and it was as if she was a child of the saints. Then one day - the bird that brought kindness and sunshine to everyone's lives fell into a trap.

There was a hyena that people all thought was bad news but she thought she could help him become a better person.

The little birdy was wrong.

He hurt the bird of colours so badly that one day he burned her feathers and they became pitch black. The hyena thought that he had won at last and had gotten power over the bird.

It was said that she ran and escaped the terrible beast that day. And because he had changed her to the very soul she wasn't the same anymore, no. She was only used for revenge, and it was said she turned her backs on the saints for not saving her. When the saints did decide to intervene the little bird was shattered and could no longer sing. Her voice reduced to a vengeful whip, it was no longer beautiful but fearsome.

It was said that on that night the Blackbird used her wings on Ketterdam so she could cover the sky in darkness so the stars in the sky, the only things the saints could use to watch over mankind was blindfolded in a merciless fog.

And there the Blackbird was born.

Maybe death clung to you, but not the same way that trauma and the cruelness of the world does.

And that's a fate worse than death.

You remember strike one, you and Jesper were kids - happy kids. And the neighbour's son of was considerably older than both of you offered to babysit the one time your Da, and Ma was out.

Jesper was playing in the back, perhaps practicing shooting so he could impress your Mum but you stayed inside saying something along the lines that you wanted to cook some cookies for Dad.

How you wished you hadn't.

That teenage boy had put his filthy little hands on you. He left you in the kitchen tears running down your face and bile that you had to force back down your throat.

Your mother had found you like that and she instantly knew what had happened and she made everything much more bearable. When you had nightmares you would get up and knock on her door quietly enough for her just to hear and because your Ma was a light sleeper but your Da was not, she would get up and see you alright.

The poor woman never told her husband because you had pleaded with her not to. She always did blame herself and she made sure the boy never came around again but she did thank the saints that he didn't go all the way.

She wasn't sunshine, (she always said that was you!) No, she was the faint moonlight in the distance that helped guide you on your way home.

Then she died.

Strike two, was your mother dying. You remember that day where she went to take the poison out of that child and when she did she sucked it back into herself. In your arms was the last place your Ma took her last breath.

That was the day the world had lost its guide home and it always seemed to be in peril after that.

Strike three came almost immediately after strike two. Your father wouldn't talk to you. You became a ghost in your own house, you understood your father though,

she did die in your arms.

Jesper was the only one that didn't make strike three the last strike where the rope was at its point and snapped. He was your armour against the world, with his funny quirks and quips. He was the older brother you needed in those moments.

But armour slowly breaks over time and your dear brother wasn't getting enough out of life at the farm. So when your Father sent Jesper to Ketterdam you went right with him.

You attended college for a bit but eventually, your armour had finally left you. It broke under the stress of everything in his life that he couldn't keep up with yours.

So you meant him.

He was kind but knew when the world was being too cruel. He was wealthy, but not rich. He was sweet, but not puke up rainbows kind of way. He knew you like the back of his hand and always knew how to comfort you. Jesper had actually meant him once before he got too busy with the Dregs and said maybe he knew you too well.

You yelled at him at the time and said that was absurd! He would never do anything to hurt you!

Strike four was falling under his spell.

Strike five was when he told you terrible things about yourself and you thought he was always right. He could do no wrong in your eyes.

Strike six was when he finally started beating you and you had just expected it at this point.

Strike seven was when you weren't allowed to go to school anymore.

Strike eight was when he wouldn't let you see anyone, not even your brother. But you never questioned it, he was basically a saint to you, why would you? Besides Jesper never seemed to have time for you anyways.

Strike nine was when he cheated on you and told you you had to be better.

Strike ten was when he started raping you.

Then one day he was worse than usual and you grabbed the hot poker from the fire pit, that he had used to beat you before, and you had told him to stay away.

Then you ran.

It was the straw the broke the camel's back, it was the saints giving up on him or maybe it was the saints giving up on you.

You didn't care, you were free.

You made one promise that day, that you would never love again.

You learned quickly what Ketterdam was like even before you had meant him, so perhaps that was why it was so easy to become the Blackbird. The girl who never smiled, the girl who only lived only for revenge. The monster that will wipe your existence off of the earth like it was nothing. The ghost that will haunt you when your sins line up too high.

Eventually, you joined the dregs and you connected with your brother once again and he knew something was wrong the moment he felt your presence. He didn't believe you were the Blackbird, the girl who terrorized the streets of Ketterdam.

But he learned to accept it, they all did except for that blasted Brekker boy.

With your time in the Dregs, you had slowly begun to form something with Kaz but you quickly remembered your promise to yourself and you let him go.

Although you don't like to admit it, the Crows had become your friends - family even. You would do anything to protect them even though it didn't seem like it. You were you though, and that was being afraid to even semi-connect with them. Of course, you were, because you were growing a bit too fond of Kaz Brekker and last time that lead you to a fate worse than death.

So you distanced yourself for a while to recollect your thoughts and if you really wanted to stay with them. Did they ever manipulate you? No. Then you came back and you stayed, maybe you weren't the perfect friend or a very good one at all but the Crows knew you even considering to stay was a blessing all in itself.

They were always so patient with you even Kaz, especially Kaz, and you never gave anything in return to them. Guilt would often cloud your mind when you were near them but they were always so amazing something you could never be.

But one day they came to their breaking point.

Killing people wasn't anything new for them, much less you killing people but coming back with a bloodied body and losing contact with them for weeks was probably not the same as just 'killing.'

Jesper pulls you by your bicep into Kaz's office with the other Crows following behind. You stumble in as Kaz slams the door shut being the last one in the room. They stare at you with beady eyes almost like the ones on the infamous birds around the Slat.

"What the fuck Y/n!" Jesper finally yells. Everyone around doesn't even bother to tell him to lower his voice their faces held the same anger that Jes's did.

Silence drowns you in its ocean keeping you in its waters. A chain is wrapped around your throat as you sink deeper and deeper into its depths. You try and swim away, run like you always had before, but the weight around your neck is too heavy, too dense and it slowly drowns you.

You just shrugged your shoulders. How could you explain all that you went through? Why would you want to?

"We can't just brush this off Y/n, we always do, but you crossed a line," Wylan states calmly but firmly at the same time putting a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder trying to ease the tension in the room.

You laugh, you hadn't even been walking a line at all. No, you had been jumping from rooftop to rooftop as they created a chalk line at how far you could go. Balling your hands into fits you snarl, they have been keeping you back. Maybe it's a good thing but you didn't want to admit it.

What about Kaz? A voice whispers in the back of your head.

Your eyes travel to his form in the back. He's leaning on the wall slightly but also using his cane to make himself look up-right. The darkness in the back compliments his angular features making them stand out as if saying he was above you. And to most people he probably was and he deserved that position.

But it didn't matter to you, he was just Kaz to you. Even if you saw him as someone... Important in your life, nevertheless he didn't matter. He was just another powerful man drawing a line that you couldn't cross as the line became smaller and smaller till you were trapped against a wall with nowhere to go.

When you first became the Blackbird, you climbed up that wall, you knew what was going to happen next. And you would never let anyone do that to you again.

"If you think I crossed the 'line' then your wrong." Your voice started out light-hearted (never does a fake smile crawl on your face though) but slowly became menacing and terrifying.

You spin of your heels turning to Jesper. "You've kept me in a cage giving me freedom but always locking me back up in the night."

You turn to Wylan and you mock his voice from earlier. "It was only a matter of time before I would break out." Your eyes lock onto Kaz's and your voice softens while you look at him.

"You knew it was going to happen sooner rather than later. A bird needs to stretch its wings somehow."

"That doesn't mean you get to cut off communication with us for weeks than bringing in a body all bloodied. What you said before doesn't even explain why you did that Y/n," Inej says quietly.

You growl and the people closest to you jump back a little.

"Oh, what are you going to do, kick me out? Half of your businesses wouldn't have even succeeded without me!"

Jesper balls his hands into fists. "Gee for fuck's sake Y/n would just tell us!"

"HE'S THE REASON I'M A MONSTER!"

Your shout makes everyone freeze in their place and there it is again. The overbearing silence that takes over everything with its darkness. Running threw out the room, swirling around you and making it impossible for you to even hear anything other than your own terrible thoughts of madness.

But one voice isn't in your head of that hyena howling at you no, it's real and you can hear it among the darkness. You close your eyes listening in and hearing something other than darkness.

"Y/n." Your eyes snap open and you meet Kaz's eyes and you feel something dangerously close to relief.

"Everyone else out."

The Crows file out of the room one by one following Kaz's order. Everyone leaves but Jesper hesitates at the door and you see your broken armour trying to come back to you again and although it's harsh he wasn't there when he should have been. You understood that he had other problems he needed to sort out but you were his little sister.

You were supposed to stick up for each other.

"Out." Your voice would sound cold to anyone else but to Jesper, it sounds tired and unhappy. Lonely also however it has a hit of love and revenge as well.

The taller brother just sighs though and close's the door.

Kaz's eyes meet yours and your hands start to fidget with the cuffs of your bloodied shirt.

He doesn't say anything, he just stares at you. Willing you to spill information with just a glance. Any God would fall prey to those eyes and they would disclose all their knowledge while also thanking him in the end.

Kaz Brekker had something more powerful than Godly power over you.

So you couldn't help but tell him the real more dark story behind the Blackbird, he had already told you his so maybe, just maybe you could trust him.

"Do you know the Story of the Blackbird?" Your voice rings out against the muteness of the room fighting against it for once in your miserable life.

Kaz nods his head showing you that he knew. Of course, he knew it, was Brekker he probably knows every single version by heart.

"And I assume you know it's about me?"

Rolling his eyes but nodding once again.

You hesitate, knowing that after this you couldn't go back. That these next few words could change everything and why are you even telling this to the bastard of the barrel?

Because you love him.

It's simple and you promised yourself you would never love again but possibly that promise wasn't real because perhaps you never really loved that hyena. Some form of peace has definitely come from killing him, but maybe there's more to moving on from trauma than just revenge.

So with those thoughts in mind, the words tumble out of your mouth and you wouldn't be able to stop them even if you tried.

"Around the time where Jesper was just starting in the Dregs I had gotten a boyfriend. He was... Well, he was the perfect boyfriend but looking back he was too perfect. Basically fake, he was a manipulator and he knew me like the back of his hand. He knew where to press and I was under the impression that he could do nothing wrong." You pause to take a breath but you don't look up from your spot on the floor.

"It started with the small things like little insults thrown my way, but then it grew into bigger things like calling me a slut and what not. I wasn't even surprised when he started beating me."

Your eyes slowly come off the floor and they travel up Kaz's body but never meeting his eyes. You didn't want to see the disappointment that would be held in those eyes. That was inevitable.

"Then every day it started to get worse till he-" You cut yourself off and your legs wobble underneath you and as you collapsed Kaz jetted out and caught you before you could fall.

Tears were running down your face as you gripped Kaz's shirt as he picked you up bridal style and carried you over to the bed. He place's you down and slides in beside you yet there was a good distance between the two of you. But it still gave you comfort and for the first time in a while, you didn't question why it did, you just went with it already knowing the reason why.

You loved him it was as simple as that.

"Then he-" You choked on a sob again and you bring your knees to your chest.

"You don't have to say it." He says gently nothing like what that hyena used to do to you.

"Noah used to rape me." The words come out in a blur and the tight feeling in your chest slowly falls apart and for the first time in a while, you truly feel like a Blackbird - free. Stuttering to breathe in a realization comes to your mind; Noah that monster will never hurt you ever again.

"Oh, my Saints! He's dead!" You cover your mouth with your hand and you lean back onto the headboard tears of happiness smear down your face. You don't laugh though but you feel even clearer than before. You could get used to this feeling.

Slowly you look over to Kaz and you realize the two of you were broken souls beyond repair and maybe just maybe that's what you needed. Perhaps that's what you both need, each other.

"Thank you." You whisper and the ends of Kaz's mouth curl's up a bit into what looks like is almost a smile but not quite. You would get there too one day.

===========TIME SKIP 4 Months======================

You jump from the rooftop gliding through the air and landing on the window sill of Kaz's office. You tilt your head to the side affectionately as you see The Crows getting ready for a heist only they're really just fooling around. Everyone but Kaz of course, he's in his desk chair drawing out some maps.

And they tell you you overwork! Hypocrites.

You open the window silently and you slip into the room unnoticed. You tiptoe over to Kaz's desk and you leap on top.

Kaz raises his eyebrow at you and you just shrug your shoulders, he probably had to stop anyways.

"You know there are other ways to get my attention other than acting like a child?"

"Oh, I know this is just more effective." You playfully respond.

Before Kaz could continue with the banter Jesper interject's just realizing you were here grabbing everyone's attention and placing it on you. Still not a fan of that.

"How the hell did you get from that rooftop to that window!" Jesper points outside in a slightly worried, big brother voice.

So you look him dead in the eyes and say; "I flew."

Jesper laughs along with the rest of The Crows but they stop at your deadpan look on your face.

"You didn't really?!"

"No, I didn't." You roll your eyes, "I didn't even think you knew that I did that."

Jesper comes over and wraps an arm around your shoulders and you immediately tense up.

"I do know some tricks! I am your older brother after all." His tone does get a few octaves of sombre at the end remembering the memories of how he didn't protect you before. But he's here now so you guess that's all matter's now.

You scoot off the desk out of his arm range but you do send him a sorry glance. The memories were just too much to handle sometimes. He just sends me a tiny knowing smile and nods and walk's off quietly (for the first time in his life) over to Wylan.

You watch everyone interact and it almost brings a smile to your face but something is missing and you wonder what it is.

Your question is quickly answered though as Kaz stands up beside you. His ungloved hand slowly garb's onto yours's and slowly you intertwine your fingers together.

"You really are the leader of a bunch of idiots." You say as Nina dares your brother to down a whole bucket paint.

"Yes, that's what it seems."

"But we love them." And for the first time in a while, you smile and it's not full-blown, it's tiny yet it has the whole galaxy in there.

"Yes, Yes I do." But Kaz isn't looking at The Crows he's looking at you.

Words 3517

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

[rogueyami]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

I love reading fanfics, and I have so many bookmarked that I want to share. Hope you all enjoy and give these writers all the love. All of these are completed works, and they are a mixture of one shots and multi chaps.

Kagehina

where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (M)

Summary:

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

Somewhere to Belong by Esselle (E)

Summary:

Once a year, all the villages that follow the way of the sun offer up one of their own to be taken to the sun god's divine temple. Kageyama Tobio, an orphan and loner, never wanted to be chosen—and until the sun god appeared, no one ever wanted to choose him, either. All Tobio wants is to find a place he fits in. What he actually gets is another story entirely.

by this time next year by reeology (T)

Summary:

"I got offers from two universities," Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. "I'm going to play volleyball at Keio this spring."

"You still have to pass an exam, even if it's an easy one," Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

"I'll pass," Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he'll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, "You'd better get in, too."

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, "Yeah!"

He doesn't know what he's in for.

Not Alone by seconddaysea (E)

Summary:

"I'll visit you," Hinata says. "So you're not allowed to get lonely, you got it?" He turns so they're facing each other, hands warm against Tobio's back. "I'm already lonely," he replies quietly, and he presses his face against Hinata's heart, squeezing his eyes shut, because if this is a dream he doesn't want to wake up.

maps, from me to you by tothemoon (T)

Summary:

This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.

Iwaoi

we can do better than that by spaceburgers (M)

Summary:

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

we shine like diamonds by whiitemists (T)

Summary:

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

here comes your man by newamsterdam (T)

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s left his cell phone on the bench, and while Suga keeps his gaze away from Iwaizumi the phone lights up with a new message.

Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3

Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Mrs. Iwaizumi must be quite the doting wife, Suga thinks. Delivering hand-made bentos and sending along loving messages.

No one really knows much about the new surgical resident, Doctor Iwaizumi, other than the fact that he's married. Suga's determined to find out more, and make a friend of him in the process.            

just hear me out by loveclouds (T)     

Summary:

To stimulate Japan's low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people's wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility.

Iwaizumi's beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they've been kids. Oikawa's has only ever been silent.

 Call Security! by DeathBelle  (T)    

Summary:

Oikawa Tooru is attractive, charming, and irresistible.

He thinks so, anyway, until he meets the mall's new security guard.

In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.

Bokuaka

(Don't) Touch Me by DeathBelle (E)         

Summary:

Akaashi has always had an aversion to human contact, but earlier in his life it had been bearable. It isn't until his last year of high school that it becomes intolerable. By the time he enters college, any skin contact has the potential to send him spiraling into a breathtaking panic attack.

He reconnects with Bokuto in college, and he seems to be the only person with the ability to calm Akaashi down. He finds himself relying on his old captain more and more, especially when Bokuto deems himself Akaashi's own personal guardian. Despite their connection, he can't touch Bokuto, either; no matter how badly he'd like to.    

Upstairs by yoogiboobi (E)    

Summary:

Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he's moved into his new place.

[...] 

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.         

bang! now we're even by Authoress (E)

Summary:

Akaashi only has two rules when it comes to his profession. One, complete the job as swiftly and cleanly as possible. Two, never trust anyone who smells like blood.

Rule three is to shoot Owl Eyes in the face should he ever come across him, but Akaashi never tells anyone about that one.

Crisis Converted  by valiantarmor (E)    

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji is just a normal cop with a penchant for getting himself into trouble, when quite suddenly he finds himself with a big promotion and a brand new partner.

But his habit of finding trouble hasn't gone away -- if anything, it's only gotten worse. 

cracks in the pavement will lead you home by deusreks (M)    

Summary:

Bokuto often thinks about Akaashi, especially when he’s running. It’s like his legs know where they’re supposed to take him. He grows into a habit of running a lot, just to keep that feeling going. Cracks and holes in the pavement aren’t fun to jump over if the final reward isn’t seeing Akaashi’s face.

An alternate universe with a little bit of magic and a lot of growing up.         

Ushiten

died in my dreams by MTrash (Makaria) (T)

Summary:

If anyone asked Ushijima how it came to this, he wouldn’t be able to formulate a proper answer.

Ushijima likes his quiet, his order, and his solitude. That is, until a loud, talkative and a little chaotic cyber tech convinces him that that's just plain boring.

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) by pseudoanalytics (T)     

Summary:

Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?”

Reon froze. “T-Tendou?”

“Yes.”

Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections.

“I... I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I'd guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep.

But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably.

Oh, Reon realized. Oh no...

Executive Excursion by DeathBelle (E)    

Summary:

Tendou is fun, quirky, and interesting.

Ushijima is none of the above.

It's no surprise that Ushijima is drawn to Tendou's magnetic personality. What's surprising is that Tendou seems to like Ushijima, too.

With a little support from his coworkers, Ushijima decides to take a chance and ask Tendou on a date. The results are better than expected.

fascinating facts about geckos by miracleboysatori (T)        

Summary:     

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That’s the coach’s name. And he’s the new biology teacher on campus, so not only is he incredibly beautiful, he's also smart as hell.

Tendou can tell he’s completely doomed.

Affection, and other Quantifiable Actions by badbavarois (T)   

Summary:

(He's a monster) Ushijima Wakatoshi isn't a monster.            

Misc/ Other ships

but not for spring to well up by tookumade (T)  OsaSuna 

Summary:

After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.           

the more things change by deadseasalt (E)  OiKage   

Summary:

“So let me get this straight. You went to the Meiji-Chuo game and saw your old crush and after watching Meiji bring Chuo to a crushing defeat, you realized you were still crushing on him big time?”

Kageyama wishes he could spit in Tsukishima’s drink. “It’s not a crush.”

Tsukishima laughs. “You poor dumb fuck.”

Third Impression by DeathBelle (E) Kuroo x Semi

Summary:

If Semi has a type, Kuroo isn't it.

After their first meeting, Semi concludes that Kuroo is smug, presumptuous, and a little too flirtatious for his own good. Their second encounter doesn't change his mind, and Semi does his best to avoid a third.

Kuroo has other ideas, and Semi finds himself tricked into an impromptu tutoring session with Kuroo himself.

It doesn't go as badly as Semi expects.

Mannequin Men by surveycorpsjean  (E) BokuAkaKuroTsukki

Summary:

The modeling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

Efflorescence by h_lovely (E) MatsuHana

Summary:

"Are we flirting?"   "Do you want to be?"

[Efflorescence (n.) a state of blooming, flowering, and development.]

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Two

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.2k

After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you open your eyes to see other students begin to filter into the large auditorium. The little wooden desks that flip out from below the seats force people to squeeze past each other and give awkward sorries. Coming from calc, you thankfully don’t have to do the awkward shuffle as you came straight from a nearby building. While watching the students trickle in, you notice that many hold coffee in their hands and you suddenly are incredibly jealous… that guy from your last class wasn’t wrong in his assumption of your night owl status.

You sigh, and pull out your laptop to pull up the syllabus for the class. You were slightly nervous for this class, as it was completely out of your comfort zone. You hadn’t yet settled on a major, so you were knocking out some general classes while you were a freshman. And now, you were sitting in an Intro to Composition class to fulfill your creative work requirement. You really didn’t have experience with music in any formal sense, but you always loved to listen to music as you did basically anything. You found that music helped make the more unpleasurable bits of life more bearable. And the good bits, well, they always seem to have a good beat behind them too.

While you begin to look at some of the upcoming projects and their due dates, you feel the seat below you shift as someone occupies the seat next to you. When you glance up, you first see that since you pulled your laptop out, the lecture hall had quickly filled up. Your eyes dart over to your new seat buddy, and you can’t help but feel your eyes widen a bit. It was a boy with a slight build, but definitely a powerful aura. From your view, the sharpness of his jawline coupled with his soft looking cheeks was enough to inspire Michelangelo himself, you thought. While he was bent over slightly pulling out his desk, you shifted your eyes to look at his. He had soft eyes, and you could just barely tell he added a bit of a peach shadow and mascara to his look. Framing his face was inky black hair that was gelled to perfectly hang just to the edges of his dark brows.

Not wanting to get caught staring, you drag your eyes away from him and back to your laptop. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and willed it to recede --- you’ve had enough of embarrassing yourself today, you thought. Why oh why God, did you send freaking male models to your university, and not only that, but make them attend the same classes as you!

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as you hear a voice come from close to your right side. Eyes going from your laptop to the speaker, you realize it’s the boy next to you that spoke.

“Hey, just so you know I think your bag is caught on the chair, and looks like it’ll spill…”

His voice is more light and melodic than you anticipated from his angular features, but you don’t really fully process the thought before you realize that yes, your bag is precariously hanging from the edge of the chair between you, and it looks like your notebook and pens are about to end up scattered across the lecture hall. You gasp and grab your bag before it dumps, and lift the strap to untangle it.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I’m sorry!” Your words rush out of your mouth as you zip the bag to prevent further disaster. How embarrassing, you groan to yourself internally.

He lets out a tinkling giggle, “No worries, happens to the best of us.” Said with a smile, he makes you feel better about the awkward situation almost immediately.

You smile back at him, “I suppose that’s true”. His grin widens a bit at your reply, and you notice his eyes squinch up to the point where they seem to disappear a bit, which you have to admit is incredibly endearing.

“My name’s Jimin!”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you!” Your smile gets larger at his introduction, it’s nice to be making a friend in a class that you already feel out of your depth in, and not to mention one that is as kind and not at all bad to look at.

“You too! So, what year are you? I’m a second year.” His smile never left his face.

“Oh, I’m only a first year actually!” You hated having to tell people you were a new student, honestly, but you kept your smile hoping he wouldn’t tease you too hard for it.

“Aw, you’re just a baby! Don’t worry, sunbae will take care of you!” His smile definitely had a cheshire quality to it now.

“Is that a promise sunbaenim?” You smirked back at him. While your words were formal, you were quick to pick up his flirty nature and turn it around on him. You saw his eyebrow lift in amusement at the subtle double entendre, and just as he was about to respond, a much louder voice cut him off from the front of the hall.

“Good morning everyone. Welcome to Intro to Composition. I am your professor, Doctor Choi. To my side here is this class’s learning assistant, Yoongi.” At this he swings his arm around to gesture to a boy giving a flat smile and nodding his head in greeting, his hands in his front pockets in a kind of forced relaxed stance.

“He is a fourth year student and is here to answer any questions you may have about the class material, as this is a rather large class.” The professor continues on, but you only give it partial attention, half because of already reading the syllabus, and half because you were getting a good look at the LA he introduced.

Yoongi was standing towards the wall of the auditorium, seemingly not wanting to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t have pulled your attention so much if it wasn’t for his gorgeous feline-like features that gave him an elegance, despite his slightly awkward demeanor. The glasses perched on his nose and the dark bangs swooped gently over his forehead gave beautiful contrast to his pale skin and pink lips. The silver hoops in his ears that reflected the overhead fluorescents gave him more of an edgy vibe, and it seemed to suit him well.

As it seems, Jimin thought so too. You turned to glance at your new friend to see him eyeing the LA you yourself was just examining. You watched him pull in one of his plush lips to pull it lightly with his top teeth. The quick action made you lift your brow in amusement. The introverted LA appeared to have a fan club in you and Jimin. After a quick glance around the room, you saw most of everyone beginning to type notes or watch your professor with way more attention than you or Jimin were giving him.

At this, you quickly refocused on the lecturer. Lord knows you need to pay attention to do well in this class with the zero experience you had with the material.

----

75 minutes later, the distinct sound of students shuffling as they put away their things and exit the room rings out. You and Jimin follow suit.

“What do you think of the first project that he introduced today? I’m a little nervous to be honest.” You look up from your bent over position to see Jimin’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he expresses his concern.

“Yeah, me too. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with this stuff so it’ll definitely be a learning process.” Slipping into a conversation about the class was completely natural to you two. It seemed you two clicked as friends right off the bat.

“Tell me about it. I’m a freaking dance major, not a music major!” He let out a grown and tipped his head back as you both walked together out of the lecture hall.

“My advisor recommended this course to me because she said that some dance majors find it useful to learn about music construction, because it can help them be better at moving to the music. And because I tend to focus on contemporary, it makes sense. I’m just worried about not doing well in the class itself.” As he spoke, his face slipped into a cute pout.

His pout made you giggle, which you tried holding back behind your hand but he heard you before you were able to.

“What is so funny? Is my life struggle really that comedic to you hoobae?” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, knowing how dramatic he was being. The slight giggle in his tone gave him away too.

“Of course not, I would never belittle your struggles, sunbae. You must have it so hard. Dancing requires an immense amount of brainpower, I don’t know how you are able to walk around with how big your brain is!” You widen your eyes for dramatic flair as you fight your lips from quirking up.

He stops dead in his tracts, and turns to you with his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at your sarcastic reply.

“Ya! Kids these days show no respect for their elders!” He bumps his hip into yours after catching up to you, “I’ll have you know I was class president for nine years in school! And valedictorian! And this is how I get treated!”

You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat and turn to him. “Were you really, sunbae? That’s amazing!” His easy-going attitude definitely didn’t leave you with the impression that he was that dedicated to his studies.

Now slightly sheepish, he shrugs. “Yeah, it’s true. I was a model student back then.”

Looking forward, he gives a bit of a bitter smile to himself. “You are wondering why I became a dance major, I imagine.”

Sensing the slight sensitivity to the topic, you shake your head as you answer, “Well, who am I to judge who does what major when I can’t even decide on one for myself?” You give him a shy smile.

By this point, you were both strolling down the brick path connecting the buildings of campus together, the bite of winter still remaining in the wind that blows your hair off your face on the otherwise sunny day.

He turns to look at you, with a slightly more evaluative gaze. You only hold eye contact for a second before moving your eyes forward again, trying to avoid blushing under his attention.

“You have time. Don’t force yourself into a path that others make for you.” His face was contemplative, and it seemed like he might have been speaking from personal experience.

“That’s good advice sunbae. Maybe your brain really is super big.” Your attempt to make him smile again works, and he lightly pushes your shoulder.

“Brat!” You can’t help but to let out a loud giggle, to which he lets out his own.

Seeing the street you needed to turn on for your next task of the day, you go to say goodbye to Jimin. “Well, this brat has to go buy groceries, so she’ll see you later.” You go to turn away, but before you can, he grabs your hand.

“You’re just going to leave your new friend without giving him a way to contact you? What if he has some pressing composition questions, huh? What is he to do then?” The teasing tone makes you smile.

“Well, if I remember correctly the LA you were checking out earlier is at your disposal sunbae.” He sputters for a couple seconds, pink coming to his cheeks making your smile widen, taking pleasure in catching him off guard.

“Okay, but you can’t tell me he isn’t yummy y/n!”

At this, you let out a cackle and bend over from the force of your laugh. You didn’t expect his answer, but you did have to agree with him. That LA, Yoongi his name is you think, definitely is yummy. He is gorgeous in an understated way.

After you finish laughing, you relent. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’ll spare you the embarrassment of asking the yummy LA your dumb questions. Hand me your phone”.

He pulls his phone out of his canvas tote, holding his laptop and what looks like a textbook. You quickly type in your contact information, and hand it back to him.

“I appreciate your pity on my poor soul, y/n.”

“It’s more pity on Yoongi’s soul, actually.” You have to raise your voice as you are already walking away as you reply, your head turned over your shoulder. Your smile is met with a shake of his head and a tongue sticking out in your direction.

You laugh as you continue on towards the grocery store, happy that you were able to make such a good friend on just the first day of classes. Who knows what the rest of the semester has in store for you, if this is just day one, you think to yourself. Only time will tell.

[sope-and-shine]

Lost and Found

-> Namjoon x Reader -> Soulmate!AU // Fluff -> 6.2k (This fic was at 6,199 before post, and I couldn’t let that happen) -> Summary: In a world full of soulmates and soul marks, you just had to get stuck with the dynamic duo. -> Warning(s): none // maybe just fluff

A/N: I suggested the name to Belle as I was drafting the post, and she said she’d sue me if I didn’t use it.

ALSO! A BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU TO BOTH @multycoloredtaco​ and @purpletigertaetae​ for reading this and giving me some really good feedback! I love you both SO MUCH!

* * *

Soulmates have always come in several different shapes and sizes. They’ve always appeared to each other in various ways. Your mother and father met by their own personal song that only the two knew of, one that played when they spared a thought to the other. Your aunt had found your uncle with a timer on her wrist, and your grandpa had the unfortunate fate of meeting your grandmother while catcalling her. According to him, it was a very eventful day, but at least her words to him finally made sense. Everyone in your family - besides your great aunt who hasn’t aged since the late 1890s - has had the amazing luck of finding their soulmate. Not everyone gets the luxury of being with their soulmate how they planned to. You’re actually friends with a shop owner who lost his soulmate about a year ago and hasn’t seen any color since. You honestly couldn’t imagine the pain he’s been through. Thankfully, your soulmate mark was not as painful.

It was just extremely annoying.

As a child, you never questioned the items that would appear in your room, thinking of them as odd gifts that your parents or your brother would leave for you. You were no stranger to finding a single sock under your bed, the occasional candy bar tucked away in your backpack, or the odd action figure that you would take to your brother thinking it was his. It wasn’t until the first homework assignment with ‘Kim Namjoon’ scrawled at the top that you began to think something wasn’t right. And that was only the beginning of what was to come. 

As the years went by, more and more random items began appearing in your room at your parents house, your dorm in college, and finally your very own apartment. Each item you placed in boxes under your bed as a way to keep a piece of him with you until you could find him. However, you never imagined how forgetful and chaotic your soulmate could really be. You have everything! Clothing items, more homework assignments, various books, glasses, baby photos, and you even have a random girl’s phone number! You were tempted to call her when you first found it, but you figured that would be too weird. Instead, you continued to organize everything under your bed in hopes of giving it all back to him when you would finally meet.

Of course, you were a victim to your soulmate mark as well. Many jewelry items had disappeared from your room without a trace as a result. Hoodies, stuffed animals, and even a bra that you could’ve sworn you put in your gym bag - part of you hoped he’d hide it away because not only was it a cute bra, it was also expensive. Recently though, you’ve both been a lot more responsible. You haven’t seen any new items appear in your apartment for almost a month, and with your soulmates track record of losing 11 items in one day, a month was a huge record on his part. But you were starting to miss the gifts that would give you clues to him.

After you found out what your soulmate mark really was, you started looking forward to what would be left in your room next. Of course, it wasn’t always a win on your part, and sometimes what he lost was very questionable, but it always made you laugh when another item appeared in your room. At first, it was weird to think about someone else’s stuff appearing in your room with no prior warning, but it made you feel special to know that he was ultimately giving you pieces of himself every time he let something out of his sight. They made your long days more bearable. It makes you wonder if he’s the type of person to shower you with gifts when you feel upset or just to show his affection when he felt it was necessary. Especially on a rough day like today.

There was nothing wrong with your job, you loved everything about it! Life as a lead optician was actually a very rewarding job in the end. Helping others choose the best glasses for their face and individual personalities was one of your favorite parts, you loved watching little old ladies try on vibrant, colorful frames to feel youthful. They’re always very excited to see clearly again. Then there are all the little kids who would sit down with you to get glasses for the first time, and the look on their faces when they finally got to see the world clearly was heartwarming. Their soft smiles and wide eyes filled with amazement always made you feel a little softer inside. However, not everyday was a good day, and today was really not a good day.

Everything was going perfectly fine until the 3:30 appointment showed up at 5:00 after the doctor had already left for the day and demanded to be seen. The doctor’s technician was so scared trying to explain to the patient that they’d have to reschedule their appointment, and the poor thing was just trying not to cry over the one person who couldn’t understand how society works. Obviously, as the lead optician on duty you took over, but this patient was one of the most inconsiderate people you’d ever had to deal with. Demanding to be seen, demanding to buy glasses with an old prescription, demanding to speak to a manager - which at this point was actually you, so done and done - and just cursing up a storm at you and your fellow coworkers who all tried to help explain. The whole ordeal just took way longer than it ever should have to deal with, and it probably took at least 25 years off of your life. 

“Why do people feel that they need to be rude to get what they want?” Soohyun had asked you, “Do they think it’ll just magically fix everything?” 

You had agreed, “It’s like they think you’re really just messing with them. Like, “Oh no, sir! You’re correct! I apologize for the inconvenience, let me pull that out of my ass for you!” Though maybe not appropriate for the work environment, you’d at least made her day just a little better with your humor. 

On days like today, a nice warm shower and a cuddle pile with all of the pillows and plushies that cover your bed made everything much better when nothing new appeared in your room. If the odd gifts the universe left from your soulmate couldn’t cheer you up, then you’d do it yourself. And that you did. Nothing felt better than the warm water washing away the day’s pain and suffering, the delicate fragrance of the coconut shampoo you splurged on easing your worries down the drain. The floral body lotion and leave-in-conditioner you’d bought on the same shopping excursion also help your body relax, their scents so intoxicating to you, that you almost topple over onto the tiled floor of your bathroom from the instant pleasure they pull from you. Instead, you make your way to your bed, adorned in your comfiest PJs and fluffiest socks.

However, you weren’t expecting to land on something so hard and uncomfortable when you plopped face first onto your sheets.

“What the heck?” Pushing yourself onto your knees and pulling back the covers, you find a small, golden trophy resting comfortably in the warmth of your sheets. On all sides it reads, ‘MNET Asian Music Awards’ with a small plaque reading, ‘2017 MNET Asian Music Awards: Artist of the Year’ at the bottom of one side. It takes you a moment to understand fully what you hold in your hands before it actually hits you.

Your soulmate is an idol.

A forgetful idol if he lost such an important award, but at least this gave you a lead as to who your soulmate is besides one of the most common surnames and a few measly pairs of mismatched socks.  

Setting the award to the side, you grab your phone from your nightstand and unlock it, clicking on your browser and typing away. You look up the artist of the year from 2017 and find the top result to be a boy band called BTS. According to Google’s nice little summary and AllKPOP’s top article, they seemed to be pretty famous. Of course, you’ve heard of them before, and if you heard one of their songs then there was a good chance you’d probably recognize it! But you’ve never really been one for boy bands. You were more into kdramas if you were to be completely honest, they’re definitely your guilty pleasure and way more your speed than handsome young men dancing on stage in front of screaming girls trying to get in their pants. Could you really blame them? No. Not at all. Given the chance, you’d take it, but it wouldn’t be anything special if it wasn’t your soulmate.

Your soulmate.

Namjoon.

Changing your question, you search for ‘Kim Namjoon BTS’. If he actually pops up, then that would mean you actually know who he is. 

Finding the nerve to press search, you are bombarded with three pictures above a description of him right off the bat - You hate to admit it, but soulmate or not, he’s definitely handsome. You click on a random site you hope will give you some useful information about the man who’s most likely your soulmate and are immediately redirected to something called K-Profiles. The site itself starts off with a group picture of all the members, followed by their names below it, and their social media handles under that. You’d have to look them up later.

The first member you come across is your soulmate himself. He has his blonde head resting on top of his arms with a soft, dimpled smile as he stares right back at the camera. Eyes locked onto his through the screen, you can feel your heart speeding up just from looking at him. You can’t help but smile back at him as if he can actually see you. As if he were right there ready to come out and say ‘hi’. 

He’s absolutely breathtaking, and it isn’t even him.

You continue your hunting, scrolling further down to learn as much as you can about him. How old he is, when he was born, where he was born, what his favorite color is, you want to know it all! You learn that he’s the leader of the group, that he used to be known as Rap Monster before he changed it - that USB in the box under your bed made a lot more sense now. You learn that he has a sister, and that he and his band members are advocates for UNICEF, and that this man was so incredibly intelligent yet also known as the ‘god of destruction’ to those around him. But also listed on his profile is his soulmate mark. 

“As said in a V-Live where RM explained a stuffed animal he kept on his desk, anything RM loses will appear with his soulmate and vice-versa. He has yet to meet his soulmate.” You read. You’ve lost quite a few stuffed animals to Namjoon, hopefully, it wasn’t an embarrassing one that would haunt you later.

You come to the end of his profile and to the top of another handsome man, yet you don’t scroll down. You haven’t learned enough. You need to know more about him, about how you can meet him. You have to know more! And that’s how you find yourself still up at 5am the next morning still wide awake watching yet another video interview of your soulmate just to hear his voice. A part of you is embarrassed for staying awake all night for some guy, but another part of you can’t let it go when you’re so deep already. 

* * *

You called into work after your late night-early morning escapade, telling them you caught something from one of your friends and wouldn’t be in for the next few days. There was no way you were going anywhere with the sleep you just got, and it wouldn’t be fixed in one day either. Even after sleeping the morning away you were still tired from your late night-early morning endeavor. It’s not like you really cared though, you had just found out who your soulmate was. And unlike a lot of other people in the world, you had an entire collection of videos dedicated to just your soulmate and his passion.

It didn’t take long for you to dig your nose back into the screen of your phone just to watch him make that gorgeous, dimpled smile. There were so many videos where he talked about you, sharing some of the items you had lost with his fans like they were his best friends. He looked so proud to be showing off your things, and the look in his eyes when he’d get lost in his own thoughts just looking at them made your heart melt.

You’d heard your mom and dad talk about how happy they were to have a special song just for the two of them. Your mom used to tell you all about the day your father tracked her all the way from the grocery store, pushing through the crowd like a love interest in a kdrama because he heard her humming their song to herself. At a young age you always thought it was sweet and wanted to meet your soulmate just like your mom had, but you eventually realized as you got older that a strange person following you home is not something you want. However, now you kinda wished it could work like that, seeing that your soulmate was practically untouchable. 

Of all the people in the world, you just had to get stuck with a celebrity with millions of girls from all over the world fawning over him. Getting chased in the streets must be on this guy’s workout regimen by now! How were you supposed to get anywhere near him without spending over $1,000 just to look at his face?

“How much are those fan-meet things?” You ask yourself aloud. Innocent enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the entire process that came with going to just one fansign. This wasn’t something you could just buy a ticket for. No. You had specific steps that you had to follow or you wouldn’t even stand a chance. There were so many steps that you were tempted to just find his company and blast music until security came to take you away. Maybe you’d at least get to meet him when they filed a restraining order.

No. You HAD to meet him. You haven’t saved all of his lost things just for you to chicken out now.

So, you made a fancafe account and waited for their next promotion to purchase an album, you waited for the lottery winners to be announced, and you almost doubled over when you saw your name on the list from the store. You thought 3 months was long enough, but the 24 hours before the event were the longest hours of your life. So long that you couldn’t even sleep!

That’s where the wrench comes in.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late at all, but you were really excited to finally meet the man that’s been losing everything he touches - especially now that he’s started losing air pods under your bed. So, when you woke up at 10:30am for the fansign that started at 11, you knew you’d messed up. 

You messed up bad. 

Of all the irresponsible things you could’ve done, staying up late was not the one you should’ve chosen to do. Now, you’d have to wait even longer to see him. Maybe the universe was right to give you both the worst soulmate mark known to man.

It wasn’t like waiting for the next fansign was bad, but it wasn’t the best either. Everyday that passed was another day that you had to watch him through a screen. Seeing his dimpled cheeks smile at the camera - at you - making your heart race. He was so close to you, but he was so out of reach. When the next fansign did come around, you had to make sure you made it on time so you could see it in person for yourself.

That’s what you told yourself.

To your credit, you almost did do that! But you had no idea there would be so much traffic. Not only that, but you’d tripped and dropped the box of things to return to him on the street and had to pick it up before anyone saw what it was you were holding. Because of those small issues, you made it to the venue five minutes after they had closed the doors. 

“Please, I’m only five minutes late!” You beg, breathing heavy and labored. You stare at the worker just doing her job with high hopes that she would have some sort of empathy for you, but her face showed no remorse.

“If you wanted to be let in, then you should have been on time.” She scolds, closing the doors on you and leaving you outside to wallow in self pity once more. 

At least the first time you’d messed up you were in the comfort of your own home where you could cry over your failure. Now, you were left in the open for everyone to see your mistake. You were so close too. He was just behind the doors. Waiting to see the adoring faces of his fans that you should be a part of. 

Yet you’re on the streets.

* * *

“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” 

“What makes you say that?” You turn to your friend from your seat on the ground outside of the shop you’d purchased your album from, dressed in a light hoodie with a coffee in your hand. The light of day just peaking through the cracks between the buildings as the street lamps turn off for a new day. 

At this point in your journey to meet your soulmate, you weren’t going to take any more chances. The store didn’t open for another 3 hours, and the event started an hour and a half after that, but you were going to be sure you had your ticket and made it to the venue on time. You didn’t care how early you were, you were going to see Namjoon if it was the last thing you did.

The poor, tired woman seemed to pick up on your indifference to your change in behavior and sighs, “Nothing in particular. I’m just concerned that maybe you’re taking this to the extreme now.”

“I’ve tried and failed three times already, Bomi. I cannot miss another chance to meet them!” You explain, taking a sip from your warm cup.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you that they’re just a boy band and you shouldn’t get so excited over them. They all have soulmates anyways.” Of course she didn’t know that you were going because one of them was your soulmate, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out and telling your soulmate before you could tell him. 

“I know that, but it’s worth it!” All the hours you’d spent waiting, watching their new content, reading their tweets and various posts from other social media wishing you could see him in person for just a moment. This was the fourth attempt, and you didn’t want to continue this cycle of hit and miss. “I’m not missing it this time.”

“Well, waiting outside of this shop so early just to get a ticket that’s already yours is absurd!” 

“You didn’t have to come with me.” You grumble. It wasn’t like you didn’t know that. You were very much aware of the fact that it was insane. It was something you thought about every time you failed to make it into the venue! Having her reiterate what you already knew did not make it any easier.

However, your acquaintance wasn’t having your response, “I did. You blackmailed me into coming with you so you’d actually do it right, remember?”

The vague memory of sending her an embarrassing picture you had as a way to convince her to come flashes through your mind. So maybe your methods were unconventional, but they worked. “That’s not important!” 

You both continue to wait by the store’s entrance, making light conversation as more people begin to show up for their own tickets. Of course, you knew they’d be here, that’s why you left extra early to be there first. It was a good thing you did too, because as the time ticked on and the line grew longer, it became obvious a lot of fans had purchased their albums from the same store you had. Even as the store owner arrived to start their day, not at all surprised by the line that had formed for them, there were still fans lining up for their tickets.

But in the end, you were first to arrive and receive your ticket, and that made you one of the first to the venue.

“Alright, we made it. This is where I leave you.” Bomi hikes her bag further onto her shoulder and turns to face you one last time before she leaves, “Don’t make a fool of yourself in there. And do not show them your airpod collection!”

‘Oh, I’m returning the airpod collection…’ You think to yourself, sending a quick wave goodbye to her.

Waiting for the doors to the venue to open didn’t take as long as you’d thought it would - security check taking even less time. You found your seat pretty easily as well, being placed on the left side of the empty table in the middle of the sea of chairs. Taking the time you have while everyone finds their seats, you take a peek inside of the box you’d brought to grab your album and just look at everything you’d brought to begin their return to Namjoon. You made sure to bring every pair of air pods you had found - and hadn’t sold on eBbay - a few old homework assignments, USB’s, pictures he’d taken through his pre-debut, and the trophy he’d misplaced that lead to your discovery.

Hopefully his band members wouldn’t be too upset with him.

You’d learned a lot about each of them over the two years you’ve spent trying to meet with Namjoon. So many times you’d been tempted to put yourself on the fan page or DM them on Twitter, but you were too afraid of being drowned out by other ARMYs or one of the other boys blocking you before Namjoon could see. No doubt they each probably had hardships of their own trying dodge fans claiming to be their soulmate. Watching as they each come to the stage individually, you could see why anyone would lie to call them theirs. You couldn’t deny how handsome they all were - you’d be lying to yourself if you said you thought they weren’t handsome - but no one could compare to your Namjoon.

If you get the opportunity to meet his stylist, then you’re going to give her the biggest hug for making him look this amazing! It was just a plain white, button down shirt tucked into a black pair of dress pants, but the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the grey, satin suit jacket with the addition of black, square glasses and his brown hair neatly parted to the left make him look like a god - should they exist. He takes your breath away, even if you’ve seen every picture and fancam you were able to find. The universe really said, “this one deserves the best” and threw you the biggest catch out there. You could only hope he enjoyed the simple pair of jeans and pastel yellow sweater you’d thrown on for the occasion.

It takes a while before they begin the meet and greet part, the boys introducing themselves and asking questions, letting their fan sites take pictures before they turn their attention to the individual fans as they pass them. With every moment that passes by, every row you watch stand and enter the line to the stage, you become more and more nervous. Of course, you knew your soulmate was truly Namjoon, but you were still terrified to reveal that truth in front of everyone. You’d seen a few announcements regarding the boys and their soulmates, talking about how their respective soulmate would be treated like another one of the boys and would be protected by BigHit as soon as they were found. You knew you’d at least have his company behind you, but…

What about his fans?

You can’t help but fester in your own thoughts, letting them consume you even as you make your way into the line with your box. You try your best to muster up the courage you need, but the looming presence of the table getting closer and closer makes your breathing harder. All you need to do is remain calm. They were just people.

The people who’ve spent almost 7 years with your soulmate.

And your soulmate himself.

No biggie.

“Ma’am.” The voice of the staff keeping the line interrupts your internal panic, pulling you back to reality. He points to the table where an excited Taehyung smiles eagerly at you with an empty space in front of him. “You’re next.”

“Yes! Thank you.” Reeling from embarrassment, you quickly kneel down to the space in front of the table. You give a small bow and hand over your album to the boxy-smiled boy in front of you, your hands shaking from how nervous you are. All you had to do was make it through 5 more boys and you’d meet your soulmate. 

5 more people....

...and you’d meet your soulmate.

A hand lands on top of your own, “There’s no need to be nervous!” Taehyung is bright and happy, calmly running a thumb over the back of your hand as he uses the other to sign your album. His eyes shift from you to the paper and back to you, “You’re doing great~”

You felt a little bad for probably ignoring him. He must’ve been trying to introduce himself when he’d noticed you’d spaced out yet again. Yet here he was, acting as though it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Of course, he still had about 50 more people or so to have a minute conversation with, but he genuinely seemed to care. It made you feel more confident.

“Thank you.” You say, a smile gracing your lips. You were still nervous, but at least now you felt calm and somewhat collected to at least make it through the other members. You move onto Yoongi, then to Jeongguk, to Jin, to Jimin, and then to Hoseok. Once again, you’re feeling a little guilty about the time you spend with him. It wasn’t like you weren’t excited to be in front of him, but your soulmate was less than 2 feet away from you looking like he walked out of a Vogue photo shoot with a happy little smile on his face. Hopefully, if all goes well you can apologize to him for being distracted.

The staff moves everyone along and your time finally comes. You bid Hoseok a quick thank you and goodbye and move yourself in front of Namjoon, his box tucked close to your body as a way to keep you grounded. 

Namjoon takes your album from Hoseok before he turns his full attention to you, his dimples that you’d been obsessed with since you’d first seen them making an appearance. His dark brown eyes stare into your own, “Hi, what’s your name?”

You’re so entranced by the man in front of you that you almost don’t respond. You manage a quiet, “(Y/n)...” But you’re so stunned and breathless that you think about repeating it just to make sure he hears it.

“Really?” He asks. His eyes widen for just a moment, and you know he recognizes it from a homework assignment or a book you’d probably lost with your name in it. You watch his shoulders as they tense and then relax as if they’d never lifted in the first place. “I really like that name. It’s one of my favorites.”

You watch him turn to the album in front of him, looking for the page you’d like him to sign. Being in front of him now, you feel your confidence grow. You can’t help yourself, “Really? Is there a reason?”

“I’ve just always liked the name.” He says, looking up momentarily with a tight smile. He probably didn’t want to be too obvious about his soulmate - well, you - so fans wouldn’t go looking for you. That must be the one downside to the life of an idol. You watch him carefully, taking in the way he handles your album with care. You watch him flip through pages, his smile slipping for a confused frown. He looks at you, “You don’t have a question for me?”

You jump at the sudden realization that you hadn’t given him the box yet, “No! I do…” This was it. You look from him to the box you’ve clung onto for two years, “It’s inside the box.”

Carefully, you slide the box forward, feeling the nerves you’ve been feeling all day spring to life. He takes it from you with a grateful smile, probably expecting a bear or something you’d made yourself just for him. But judging by the look on his face, you can tell he wasn’t expecting to find the objects in front of him. His shocked face makes you chuckle.

“I’ve always wondered how one person can lose so many things. I understand homework and socks, the airpods, but an entire trophy, Namjoon? How do you lose a trophy?” You ask. You wait for an answer, but he looks as if he’s completely shut down. His jaw hangs open ever so slightly, and his eyes are wide in disbelief. You see a glisten in his eyes and your amusement turns to worry, “Are you okay?”

The leader turns to you, glistening eyes staring into your own. His mouth opens and closes and it looks like he’s trying to find the right words to say, “I-...I don-...oh my god, you’re actually here.”

You watch as the shine in his eyes turn to tears that slowly roll down his cheeks, his mouth struggling to decide if he wants to frown or smile. You’re more worried than anything, “Wah-! Don’t cry! Why are you crying?!” You reach for his hands that still rest on the sides of the box, mimicking what Taehyung had done for you when you first stepped up to the table. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. You’re still confused if he himself is happy or not, trying to make sense of why he’s crying when he just met you. You watch his eyes drift over you with an unclear expression. Was he happy? Was he sad? Were you supposed to be reacting the same way?

“You’re beautiful…” He says, teary eyes meeting your own.

“So are you.” You respond. It’s only after the words fall from your mouth that you realize what you said and you try to correct yourself, “Handsome! I meant to say you’re handsome! You’re very attractive in a very masculine way, but that’s not to say you don’t express femininity well when you choose to and you look good all the time and-” Amidst your struggle for the correct words, he’d begun to laugh at your own expense. Not how you imagined this meeting to go, you shrink back to your side of the table, “I’ll just stop talking.”

“No! Please, keep talking.” He begs, moving forward to come closer to you. He pulls on your hands that still connect across the table, squeezing to reassure you that he still wanted you to be near him. It felt so nice to have him hold your hands, so nice and comforting, that you must’ve missed the glistening in your own eyes, “Now you’re crying!”

Your hands pull from his to hide your face, “No I’m not, it’s just raining inside!” 

As you try to wipe away your tears, you hear the voice of Jimin call over the speakers just off to the side of the table, “You’re not supposed to make the fans cry!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon defends. In all fairness, you did make him cry first, so this was probably fair.

Hoseok claps his hands together, his voice just subtly coming through the speakers as well, “This is so sweet! We’re all witnessing two soulmates meet for the first time!” 

“It’s like a movie, but without the flower petals.” Taehyung adds, having a mic of his own on his side as well.

“Miss.” Another staff member appears next to you, only this time they’re offering a hand and a smile, “Could I have you come with me?”

You’re nervous at first, not sure if going with this staff member would be the best idea. However, the presence of Namjoon’s hand on your own once more draws your attention to his heartwarming smile, “It’s okay.”

You nod and stand, allowing the staff to lead you behind the table and into the hallway to a waiting area. They have you sit on the couch, assuring you that Namjoon and the others would be there to see you soon. This at least gave you a moment to collect your thoughts and come to the realization that you really just met your soulmate after so much hard work to get there. You’d thought plenty of times that you’d regret trying to meet him this way, but now you couldn’t be more elated that you actually got to speak to him and hold his hands. You made him cry - what were hopefully - tears of joy! Even as their manager sits down to make small talk with you while you wait for the end of the fanmeet, you can’t help but to feel as if you’re on cloud 9. 

It’s not too long until you hear that the meeting has come to an end, making your heart rate speed up. Once again, you take a deep breath in and let it out, preparing yourself to face Namjoon again. Only when he does come in, you both just stare at one another. Him from the doorway with his members waiting behind him and you from your spot on the couch. You’d already met, you’d already held hands, but this...he was right there.

“Well, are you going to talk to her or just look at her?” Jin asks, a mischievous smirk gracing his features as he stares at the younger.

It would seem that the small jab at the leader was all he needed to push himself forward, legs moving swiftly across the room in long strides just so he can reach you. You stand, intending to meet him halfway, but he’s already pulling you into a much needed embrace before you even get the chance. His arms wrap over your shoulders, caging you close to his chest as he leans down to rest his head on your own. He smells so nice, and his embrace is so warm, they almost distract you from the wetness you feel on top of your head.

“Namjoon…?” You ask, worried you might make him cry more by asking.

The man himself pulls back, quickly moving to wipe his tears as if he hadn’t already cried in front of you already, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional right now.”

“Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” You assure him. You look down, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself, “Much cuter than showing up to your fansign with a bunch of your things.”

“How long have you known?” He asks.

“2 long and painful years.” You sigh. Thinking back on everything you’ve done since discovering who and where he was, you can’t help but be thankful it worked out this time around, “I’ve tried coming to a fan sign 3 times before this.”

“Couldn’t win a ticket?” Jeongguk asks from the side, a bottle of water in his hands.

Your sheepish smile turns into a strained one, “Yeah...we’ll go with that.”

Yoongi seems to pick up on your change in attitude, “Don’t tell me…” 

“No wonder the universe put them together, they’re a match made in heaven!” Jin laughs, the sound being much more entertaining in person. The other members of BTS continue to talk amongst themselves, discussing the scene before them as well as how exciting the day had been. But Namjoon, instead, focuses all of his attention on you.

“Please tell me you’re free for the rest of the day.” 

For once, you were more than happy to use your holiday time, “I’m free for the rest of the weekend.”

“Good.” He says, giving you another look at his beautiful, dimpled smile.

“Good...”

* * *

“So, what’s in the box?” 

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part seven

“The son of Poseidon stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. It seems to burn hotter across your skin than the fire is right now.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 1.7k

rating: pg-13

warnings: language, the usual character tension

a/n: merry belated christmas (to those who celebrate)! and happy (almost) new years! stay safe and healthy everyone. hope 2021 is a better one for all of us. xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer – in which you fall (quite literally)

At the end of your first week of cleaning the stables with Jeongguk, you manage another capture the flag win. Nothing brought you more joy than seeing the look of absolute anguish on Park Jimin’s face when you ripped his red flag from right between his hands.

“Better luck next week, Park,” you teased as your cabin raised you up on their shoulders. “Guess we all can’t be winners.”

Your cabin celebrated with its allies at the campfire that night—singing and dancing to your heart's delight. Normally, you’re not one to dance much; the act is entirely too embarrassing to do in front of so many people. However, maybe it’s the stress from the week or the high from the win, but you feel the need to shake all your worries away.

And dancing proves to be a great stress reliever.

To the beat of drums and lyre playing, you sway your body beside your friends. Haru takes your hands in her own and spins you around, to which you can’t help but laugh. The two of you must look ridiculous right now. She spins you around in another 360 and you close your eyes, taking in the heat from the fire. When you open your eyes, you meet the cool gaze of someone you didn’t expect to still be here.

Across the campfire, Jeon Jeongguk stands by himself. You didn’t expect him to be here because his cabin was on the losing team. You thought that maybe he would be sulking in his cabin like Jimin probably is right now. Instead, his eyes seem glued to you. The son of Poseidon stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. It seems to burn hotter across your skin than the fire is right now.

Even though he is yards away, you feel incredibly exposed at this moment. His round eyes are illuminated by the fire, and they seem to pierce you like he can see right into your soul or something. After another second, you force yourself to look away—the tension is just too much to take right now.

“Are you okay?” Haru’s voice breaks your thoughts.

Looking up, you notice concern clouding her eyes; however, there is also a gleam of interest there—probably wondering what made you stop dancing.

“I’m fine,” you tell her. “Just dizzy, I guess.”

Haru doesn’t seem to buy it, but she doesn’t pester you about it again. “Well, too bad—I want to keep dancing with my best friend!”

The next morning, you make your way towards the stables feeling more exhausted than usual; body still slightly aching from last night’s festivities. When you arrive, Jeongguk is already there leaning against the gated entrance. Probably hearing your footsteps draw closer, he looks up; however, you don’t meet his gaze. Instead, you pretend the rising sun has captured your attention.

Fishing the key out of your back pocket, you unlock the gates and greet the Pegasi already vying for your attention. And much like the other days, you both work in silence again; you even go out of your way to avoid passing by him or having to make small talk. During your other hours here, the silence was at least kind of bearable. However, today, for some reason, something feels different and you don’t like it one bit.

As the hours pass by, the silence seems to eat you alive. It’s all that you can hear. Or maybe it’s just your heart racing and blood rushing past your ears. Whatever it is, you’re about to reach your breaking point.

“Are you joining your cabin later?”

You nearly drop your broom at the sound of Jeongguk’s voice echoing through the thick silence. Styx, he scared you. “What’s happening later?”

Even though he’s on the other side of the stables, you can feel him take a step closer. “You know, the canoe races. The one that’s always held during the summer around this time.”

In all honesty, you’d forgotten all about the canoe races. And this isn’t like the recreational, free time canoeing you can do. No—this race is one that all the cabins participate in. It’s just as intense and competitive as it sounds. You’ve never participated before, so it must’ve slipped your mind. But unlike you, Jeongguk has always participated—you know, being the son of the sea god and everything.

“I usually don’t, so probably not,” you say.

“It’s your last summer, right?” he suddenly asks.

You turn around at the question. “Why, yes. As a matter of fact, it is. I’m planning to attend college in New Rome.”

Which means, you don’t know when you’ll ever be back at Camp Half-Blood since New Rome is equally as safe for demigods. The thought makes you feel bittersweet since Long Island is your home. You’d always thought you’d be here, probably continuing to offer your services to the camp. However, there’s an opportunity to expand your life on the other side of the country; you’d be foolish not to go.

“So, you should participate then,” Jeongguk breaks your thoughts.

“I think we already settled on who would participate. Besides, there’s always more cabin canoe races throughout summer,” you add as a rebuttal. “Maybe then.”

“What a shame,” he hums. “I really wanted to beat you this time around.”

Jeongguk’s mention of obtaining a win begins to turn the gears of your rivalry in your head. You should’ve known he would do something like this; the son of Poseidon just loves to egg you on. And sadly, you always seem to give in.

“We’ll see about that.”

***

“I’m going to participate in the canoe race.”

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “What? I thought we already decided on who would participate.”

“I know, but I want to do it. You know, I’ve never participated before,” you tell him. “I should try this year.”

“You’ve never participated because you—”

You cut him off. “I have to beat Jeon Jeongguk at his own game. I will not settle for anything less.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You and that damn rivalry. I know you hate the guy, but I don’t think this is worth it.”

“Jeon is a thorn at my side; beating him during the canoe race is my chance to gain some leverage on him,” you say, ignoring what your half-brother just said.

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Just don’t say I didn’t try to talk you out of it.”

***

The breeze from the Long Island Sound whips your hair. You put it in a braid earlier to keep it at bay, but your baby hairs don’t seem like they want to cooperate today.

“I’m so excited, y/n,” Harrison, a second-year in your cabin, practically vibrates with serotonin beside you. “Thanks for allowing me to join.”

“Of course,” you offer him a smile. At least, you hope it’s a smile.

A part of you wishes that you listened to what Namjoon said earlier. Because at the end of the day, he’s one of the few people that know you well and maybe he’s right; maybe trying to beat Jeongguk today isn’t worth it.

“Are you okay?” Haru is suddenly in front of you. “Namjoon told me to come and talk to you, and try to talk you out of this because—”

“I’m fine, Haru,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

Your best friend raises a brow at you. “You know, I’ve gotten pretty good and figuring when you’re lying to me. I know you always feel this intense need to beat Jeongguk at everything…though, I do wonder now if you’re starting to feel something else towards him…”

“Haru,” you warn.

She laughs a little. “Only joking.”

“I promise, I’m okay; don’t worry about me. This race will be quick anyway.”

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

Once everyone else arrives and the canoes are pushed into the water, you settle behind four others from your cabin. Harrison is seated in front of you, that beaming smile still stretched across his lips. “This is so exciting.”

The gentle rocking of the canoe does nothing to ease your nerves. If anything, it actually makes you feel sicker than you already are. “Let’s win this, for Athena!”

For Athena, your half-siblings mimic as they reach for their oars. Next to your canoe is none other than Poseidon’s cabin—whoever’s idea that was is definitely going to get a mouthful from you later—which means you-know-who is already staring at you.

“See you from the other side of the finish line,” Jeongguk taunts with a smirk. You try to return the same attitude tenfold.

“Don’t even think about any of your dirty tricks, Jeon.”

He scoffs. “Poseidon always plays fair.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “We’re in a huge body of water—nothing could possibly go in your favor.”

You don’t know if he catches your sarcasm, and you don’t have time to. Because before you can even think about it, the race begins at the blow of a whistle.

Sure enough, like you already predicted, Poseidon’s cabin gets the immediate lead. But you don’t let it faze you; this actually motivates you to work harder—commanding your cabin to row faster.

However, what you fail to realize is that what originally seemed like a beautiful day on the lake is suddenly shifting in the blink of an eye. Because you’re all concentrated on reaching the finish line, you don’t see the sudden storm clouds looming in on the horizon. The wind picks up and water begins to rise, rocking the canoes dangerously.

You grab onto the sides of the canoe for support, but it’s no match against the current. The gods must be angry. And when a wave crashes against the canoe, you lose your balance and plummet headfirst into the water.

Through the muffled sound of water rippling past your ears, you can hear echoed screams. But they seem terribly far away as you struggle to break the surface. Your hands grasp for air, but the tows of the current feel like a weight on your ankles as you begin to sink deeper into the water.

Worst of all, you can’t swim.

[mourntheantagonist]

Billy Hargrove’s Exploration of Beauty

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 |

Part 6: Split Ends

also on ao3

***

It all happened so fast. Like he blinked his eyes and he went from behind an ice cream counter to a hundred feet below ground level. Tied up to a chair in front of his coworker who he had barely even known. Who he was beginning to like. And despite being told after the fact that whole days had passed, his little vacation didn’t feel so long. Having been blacked out and drugged out of his mind for the most of it. It was quick to be over with. Could have almost have been excused as a fever dream.

The events following his escape went by fast too. Coming up to the main floor only to find out that they might have just been safer underground. Hearing news of the mind flayer being back just went in one ear out the other.

Finding out Billy was among the flayed. That stuck. But he hid the fear. Suppressed it. Because they didn’t have the time to dwell on that.

Driving up to Cerebro felt quick. Considering he drove like a bat out of hell, that wasn’t that hard to believe.

Slamming into the side of the Camaro. He had his eyes closed for that one. But it went by fast. It had to. “It’s not Billy” he had chanted in his mind.

Everything was quickly paced. Moving from one thing to another swiftly. Nothing felt like it had dragged on.

Until he was up on that balcony.

And he watched as the mindflayer skewered his boyfriend through the chest. It was all slow motion. Felt like watching a movie that would never end. Watching as it went in and out. Tearing flesh and breaking bone. Collapsing to the floor with a loud thud that echoed throughout the mall. Lying there motionless. Bleeding out onto the disgusting mall tile. Dying. He was dying.

He’d later hear from Robin that when he was up on that balcony she had to hold him back from jumping over the ledge. Kicking and screaming. “I have to get to him!”

Everything following that moment felt like slow motion. Agonizing slow motion.

Driving to the hospital that held Billy. Max in the passenger seat. It was silent. And they must have hit every red light on the way.

The trip up the elevator to the floor he was on. Unbearably slow.

The line they stood in to speak to the front desk. Unbearably long.

The wait until they were ready for them to come back. It felt like forever.

And just as he was ready to pass through the glass doors into the hall of the ICU, there was a hand on his chest. A nurse of about five-foot-five looking to be in her mid-to-late forties had stopped him. “Family members only at this time.” She’d said. He wanted to yell at her. Say he’s the closest thing Billy has to family. But he kept his mouth shut. Bowed his head and ushered Max along, despite her protests.

“Go see your brother, Max. I’ll be okay.”

But he wouldn’t. Steve wouldn’t see Billy for the first time for over a month. The longest month of his life.

Months spent with Billy beginning to fade away in this never ending cycle of being alone. Waking up everyday to an empty bed. Not even being able to make a phone call just to hear his voice. Being without him in every way. Not hearing his laugh or seeing his smile or just feeling his skin against his. He tried to hold on to all of those good memories. But they were slipping away.

It all went downhill when Max had called him from the ICU. It was two in the morning and she was there with Chief Hopper, despite knowing she shouldn’t be. Steve hid his anger around Hopper, trying his best not to hate him. Because he got special privileges and Steve didn’t. It was two in the morning and he was sitting in his living room watching a random movie, curled up in a blanket and hugging a pillow. He hadn’t been sleeping very well. The left side of his bed cold and vacant.

Max didn’t usually call this late. The ringing of the phone startled him and made his heart race. Because something must be wrong.

“Steve?” Max’s voice came over the line.

“Is something wrong?” He had to get straight to the point.

The pause felt like forever. His breath caught in his throat, hands trembling waiting for her to say something.

“They want to cut his hair.”

June 10th, 1985

“I think I want to grow out my hair.”

Billy says it to him that day while curled up in his bed. Steve’s fingers tenderly combing through his curly blonde locks. It’s soft. Void of any hairspray and all natural in its full curly glory. Smell of cheap drugstore shampoo. Slightly minty.

“Grow it out? It’s already long.” Steve says. He’s not wrong. Billy’s hair is already shoulder length and that’s with his naturally tight curls. Wet and brushed out it’s even longer. About to his collar bones.

“I know that. But I’d like for it to be longer. Is that okay?”

“Are you asking for my permission? Because you know you don’t have to do that.”

“I know. Just wanted to know what you thought.”

“More hair to grab onto? Doesn’t sound all that bad to me.”

Billy laughs and leans into Steve.

Billy had been getting better about voicing his feelings about things. Finding it easier to settle into himself in the company of Steve. Gaining a trust that Steve wouldn’t look at him like others would have if they had seen a boy take pleasure in a feminine aesthetic. Painted nails and soft makeup and even sexy lingerie when the mood was just right. Things he’d never allow leave the walls of Steve’s house, but had been able to set free when he was inside.

“Can I ask what made you want to do this?”

“Max braided my hair last night, but it’s too short on top so it was all sticking out.” Steve couldn’t see the smile peek onto Billy’s face or the rosy tint on his cheeks. “But I liked it.”

Max and Dustin had come to learn about the two of them. About not only their relationship but about Billy. About the little things he does to feel beautiful. Billy wasn’t as open with the two of them as he was with Steve. But they were nice about it. Supportive like Steve was. Billy would say it was nice having someone else in on the secret. Even if it scared him shitless having even just Steve in the know.

“Good. I bet you look amazing with your hair braided.”

“Do you know how?” Billy seems timid in the way he asks. But not like he used to be. His voice is consistent in tone and there is an ounce of confidence there.

Steve’s in the middle of wrapping a curl around his finger until he reaches Billy’s scalp. “A little. I used to braid Carol’s when we were little. Not sure how good I am now.”

“Do you want to try?” Same voice as before. Hopeful tinge to it that makes Steve smile.

“Go get me a brush.”

- : -

Steve barely listens to the rest of the call. He’s already getting ready to leave for the hospital before he even hangs up the phone. Barely bothering to make himself presentable. Going out to his car wearing a pair of pajama pants and one of his father’s college sweatshirts.

Max had told him to come. So he was already out the door. Letting himself imagine what Billy might look like now. It’s been over a month so he surely looks a lot different from when he last saw him. Hopefully he looks much different considering the last time he saw him he was drenched in his own blood with a hole in his chest. Max had taken pictures of Billy at the hospital, but he couldn’t bear to look at them. He needed to actually be there the first time he saw Billy, or he might completely lose his mind. If he hasn’t already.

The hospital is a full forty minute drive outside of Hawkins. But it’s two in the morning and the roads are almost entirely empty. So he floors it. Driving fifteen over the whole trip. Releasing all of the anxiety and anticipation into the weight of his foot to increase his speed.

He’s driving like he’s heading there to say goodbye. Like he’s getting ready to say his last words to the dying man in the hospital bed. Tell anyone else he’s driving this recklessly over a potential haircut they’d think he’d be being dramatic. To put it mildly.

But it was more than just hair. Billy’s hair meant something more than just the evolutionary purpose of keeping your head warm.

Losing his hair would be like losing a limb. It was a part of him. So much of his identity contained within each strand of dirty blonde. The one thing he had control over. The one thing Neil never bothered to touch. Hair he had been growing out for the better part of five years having only recently begun trimming it, and even more recently begun growing it out again. The bulk of the hair on his head was the same exact hair that had been with him through all of it. Through every beating. Through every milestone. Always there sitting on his shoulders.

It was the thing that brought him comfort in knowing it was his. That it would always be there. It was like his coat of armor. It was like a shield. Something he always used to hide behind. Something that protected him. Something that made stepping out into the world just a little bit bearable.

But then with Steve he didn’t use it to hide behind. When he was with Steve he let it fall. He let it soften and lose the stiffness brought upon by too much hairspray. He let Steve comb his fingers through it. Touch the very thing that gave him a glimpse of comfort. Because Steve did too. Steve’s gentle and caring hands combing through tangles while they lay together in bed. The same hands braiding his hair while they sat in front of the TV. Billy on the floor with his back to the couch. Sitting in between Steve’s legs as he tries to incorporate the shorter strands at the front of his head into the cascade of woven hair. Slicking it down with water and hairspray only for the short strands to sprout up only after only a couple of minutes. Billy never did get his perfect braid.

They want to take it off. They want to take it all off. Even though it’s not necessary. They wanted to take away the one thing Billy had left after everything. After it was all taken away from him. Steve had already destroyed the Camaro. The only thing he’d be walking out of the mall with would be that fucking hair and thankfully his beating heart.

And he would have Steve. He would always have Steve.

If he still wanted him when he woke up.

Steve passed the “Leaving Hawkins” sign at a whopping seventy miles per hour. Paying no mind to potential police surveying the road. Wasting no time at all.

June 20th, 1985

Billy’s wearing a scrunchie in his hair when he comes to Steve’s house after his shift. His hair is still drying from the pool water but is still so bouncy and shiny in the evening sunlight, and the little blue scrunchie in his hair makes him melt. The way the pink and orange hues of a perfect sunset warm the color of each strand. The ways his ears are fully exposed, his earring dangling and perfectly reflecting the light. The way the little strands at the front of his head fall into his eyes. The way it’s so messy yet so elegant at the same time. His heart soars. He looks beautiful.

Steve tells him that. With a kiss on the lips before he walks through the front door.

“Where’s the scrunchie from?” Steve asks.

“Stole it out of Heather’s locker.”

Steve gave Billy a fake shocked expression. “My boyfriend? A thief? It can’t be.”

Billy walks past Steve and into the house. “Relax, I swear there’s like fifty of them in there. She won’t even notice.” He takes a seat on the right side of the couch, like he always did.

Steve sits beside him, leaning his entire body up against Billy and burying his head into the crook of his neck. Billy still strongly smells of chlorine and he used to hate that smell until it became a signal that Billy was around. Suddenly it had become one of his favorite scents.

“Well it looks like we’re just going to have to get you some of your own doesn’t it?” Steve starts twirling his finger around one of the loose strands at the front of his face. “It looks real pretty.”

Pretty.

That was a newer word for them. Dropping the ‘boy’ at the end because it didn’t feel necessary anymore. Sometimes even made him feel a little like he was implying that boys couldn’t be pretty, needing to add the specification. Billy was becoming far more comfortable with himself and embracing it all. Beginning to believe that men could be pretty and that didn’t have to detract from anything.

So Steve called him pretty. He called him beautiful and gorgeous and stunning because he was. Because Billy deserved to hear it. And because it made him happy.

“Showers weren’t working at the pool. Need to wash the chlorine out. You gonna join me?”

“Oh absolutely.”

- : -

The trip through the hospital gives Steve flashbacks. Flashbacks to the night him and Max anxiously made the trek to the hospital wing Billy was in. Every moment he was currently experiencing felt like the memory. Sweaty palms gripping the handles in the elevator while the cage slowly moves up to the fifth floor. Shoulders hunched, leaning all his weight onto the bar as he curses each time the elevator stops. Foot tapping in anxiety as he waits and waits and waits until finally the doors slide open onto the fifth floor.

Steve ignores the lineup of people at the front desk and heads towards the glass door through which he can see Hopper. He wasn’t going to wait anymore. Fully prepared to bypass the stout man they had guarding the door.

Two hands come in contact flat against his chest as he gets within a foot of the door. So close to grabbing the handle. Steve leans all his weight against the man. Straight faced like a man on a mission.

“Let me through.”

Steve knows how he looks. Adorning comfortable clothes looking completely disheveled. Hair a mess, sweat forming on his brow, practically foaming at the mouth as he attempts to push his way past. His voice determined as he repeats himself.

“I can’t allow that sir. You do not have permission.”

The man just stands his ground. Hands still flat against Steve’s chest, applying very little pressure, but enough to prevent Steve from storming through.

“Let me through.” It’s louder this time. Enough to where he’s beginning to cause a scene in the middle of the waiting area. Staff and the rest all turning their heads towards the disarranged man on the verge of a public tantrum. He looks all kinds of mad, like he belongs in a padded room, restrained and straight-jacketed. He repeats himself over and over again until his voice starts to break. The man is not budging, and Steve doesn’t have the strength.

Then there’s a strong hand grabbing his bicep. Steve’s haze still recognizes it as belonging to a separate party.

“Let the kid in. He’s with me.” It’s Hopper’s distinct voice that breaks him from the daze. The man blocking his way moves to the left and removes his hands from his chest, nearly causing him to fall forward.

Hopper guides Steve through the glass doors. This is the furthest he’s made it. He can feel Billy’s presence just right around the corner. He’s not sure if that’s just because he can hear Max’s voice echoing through the halls as she argues loudly with the nurses on call.

“Good thing you’re here. Max has been guarding Billy for an hour. It’s just hair. I don’t know what the issue is.”

Steve just looks at Hopper, completely stone cold.

“It’s not just hair.”

He storms past him and into the room where Max is standing in front of Billy’s bed with her arms outstretched while two nurses try to reason with her. Steve stalls when he finally looks past Max and gets a glimpse of Billy.

He’s pale, but still tanner than Steve. He has more stubble than he would have liked but it’s still trimmed. The mask over his mouth and nose block his view slightly. His eyes are closed and he looks very peaceful.

And his hair is longer. A lot longer.

Splayed across the white pillow underneath him, his tight waves look to be at the very least an inch longer than the last time he’d seen him. Bangs falling into his face extending all the way down to the tip of his nose. It looks soft. Shiny like satin under the hospital fluorescent. He looks heavenly and angelic and that freaks Steve out.

Heavenly and angelic.

Asleep. Dead to the world. Dead.

Except he wasn’t dead. The crests and troughs of the heart monitor proving such to be true. But it felt too close. Like it was right around the corner and he had to be careful not to alert death to their location.

Steve walked past the shouting fourteen year old without a word and approached Billy’s bedside. Upon closer inspection he notices how Billy’s body has frailed. Previously cut muscles, now soft and smooth. Yet he didn’t look sickly. He was still looking more built than Steve, even. Steve moves a fallen hair from out of his eyes, like it was blocking his vision out of his closed lids. Gently tracing his finger across his hairline to behind his ear where he tucked back another strand. His skin was warm. Blood still coursing through his veins. He was definitely alive. And somehow Steve felt his presence. Knew deep down Billy was still in there.

He’s not paying attention to the screaming match taking place behind him. And they’re not paying attention to him. He’s just staring at Billy. Like he’s looking at the Mona Lisa. Behind six inches of bulletproof glass. He can’t get to him. He can’t reach him. But he’s there. He can see him. And god he’s as beautiful as ever.

It’s not the ear piercing screams from an enraged teenage girl or the annoyed combativeness from the two young nurses that separates his attention from Billy. It’s a strong hand on his shoulder that somehow both gently and forcefully pulls him back.

“Alright everyone that’s enough!” Hopper doesn’t shout but his deep and full voice carries an intensity that shuts everybody up. “One at a time, please?”

“You have no right to shave his entire head! You only have to shave off a small patch for the surgery, you said it yourself!” Max is fuming. The only word that sticks in Steve’s head is surgery. He doesn’t bother asking. Not sure if knowing would make it easier to swallow.

“We actually do have the right. His father already gave us consent to do so. It’s you who doesn’t have the right kid.” Steve has to physically restrain himself. Looking back at Billy as his fists clenched and his fingernails dug crescents into his palms at the mention of Neil.

Neil having the final say over the one thing he never touched. That was something Steve had promised Billy he would protect him from. Not the hair. Protect him from Neil taking anything more from him.

“Besides, a man’s hair shouldn’t be that long anyway.”

If Steve didn’t have the self control he did, there would surely be a nurse with a broken nose. Instead he turns back to Billy again. Looking at him. Trying to pull some answers from him.

I wish you could just tell me what to do.

“When does it need to be done by?” It’s the first thing Steve’s said since he entered the room.

“His surgery is scheduled for nine this morning. So you’ve got around five hours.”

Steve hasn’t turned towards the nurses. Hasn’t turned his head away from Billy.

“Then give us five hours.”

Steve’s expression when he finally turns back to look at the two nurses is mean. Attempting to get it across that he’s not asking.

“Five hours.” They say as they nod their heads and walk out. Annoyed expressions on their faces.

“Steve you can’t let them -“

“They won’t.” Steve takes a long look at Billy. Taking a deep breath as he glances towards the scissors that sit on the medical tray. “I’m going to do it.”

Max doesn’t say anything, which is actually a good sign. An even better sign is when she finally removes herself from her guarded position at the foot of the bed to come join Steve.

He pulls down at one of the shorter strands at the front of Billy’s head. Pulled taut, the spiral reaches all the way just past his chin.

“You think it’s long enough for a braid?”

June 20th, 1985

After a very hot and heavy make out session against the shower walls, the two actually take a shower. Despite having done so many times before, showering together always feels so intimate. Standing with each other, naked and alone in a very vulnerable position,

just existing without jumping each other’s bones. It was nice. It was just more proof that what the two of them ran deep. Soaping up each other’s bodies. That was something so personal.

Steve was running his fingers through Billy’s soap covered hair. Billy’s back turned to Steve as he did it. Letting the water from the faucet rinse his front while he let Steve play with the individual strands of his hair.

Steve liked the way Billy’s hair looked when wet. Still maintaining a curl no matter how saturated in water it got. The way it darkened to a near dark brown and he could easily be mistaken for a brunette.

The shampoo smells like coconut. Stolen straight from his mothers bathroom. The fumes mixed with the steam of the hot water clearing his senses and making his breathing feel so easy.

Steve pulls at one of his curls until it’s completely straight. Careful not to pull too hard.

“It’s already getting longer, baby.”

Because his back is turned, Steve doesn’t see the wide smile appear onto Billy’s face. Because the water is falling into his face, Steve doesn’t see the tears of joy form into his eyes.

Yet Steve knows without seeing. He wraps his arms around Billy’s waist and pulls him in close. Presses kisses into the mole on the back of his shoulder.

“It’s gonna look so good.”

“You think so?”

“You bet. I’d say give it two more weeks and I can get these little suckers into a braid.”

- : -

Steve remembers saying that so vividly. Because exactly two weeks later would be the Fourth of July. The same day that Billy’s life would nearly be taken. It felt like some cruel joke.

Now Steve is sitting in a hospital bed with his comatose boyfriends sitting in between his legs as he brushes through his hair. Trying to hold it together in front of Max and Hopper.

Steve’s not entirely sure Hopper has been made aware of the true nature of his and Billy’s relationship. He figures he’s probably pieced it together by now. And he’s pretty sure he doesn’t really care if he knows or not. He’s too focused on Billy. Focused on the man in between his legs. Focused on making him look as beautiful as he can while his hair is still on his head. Trying not to focus that it’s going to be his hands that will cut it off. Because it has to be his hands. Or else it’ll end up inadvertently being Neil’s hands.

And he wouldn’t let that happen.

Max hasn’t said much since he’d arrived. He can tell she feels guilty that Steve had been blocked from seeing Billy for so long. Especially considering how easy it was to get him past those doors. She’s just sitting in the chair at his bedside holding Billy’s hand. He is angry. But not at Max. He’s not really angry at anyone one particular person. He’s angry at the entire situation they’re in and he doesn’t know how to express that anger to Max without screaming. So he keeps his mouth shut and gently brushes the tangles out of Billy’s hair.

“I’m going to head downstairs for some food. Do you want me to bring anything up for you two?” Hopper says. He too has been mostly silent. Clearly pretty confused about the situation.

Max’s eyes lit up. “My bag. It’s in your car. Can you grab it?”

“Sure thing kiddo. You Steve?”

“A cup of coffee would be nice.”

Hopper tousled his and Max’s hair. “You got it. I’ll be back in a bit. Please for the love of God don’t yell at anymore nurses. They’re just doing their job.”

Hopper leaves the two of them and Steve finally begins braiding Billy’s hair. Combing his hair front to back before taking three small strands and began attempting a French braid.

“What’s in the bag?” He asks.

Max smiles. Looking down at Billy’s bare fingernails. “My Polaroid. Thought maybe he might like to have some pictures.”

“I think he’d like that.” Steve’s looking down at Billy’s hand in Max’s. “You have any nail polish in there?”

“I think so.”

“That’s good, maybe we can paint them.” Steve’s being extremely focused on braiding. Making sure it’s clean and precise and making sure no strand is sticking out. And it’s going a lot better than usual. Only needing to slick down a couple stray pieces. All while carefully pressing kisses to the top of his head as he makes his way down the length of his hair. Down his neck until he’s reached the end where he finally ties it off with a hair tie off of Max’s wrist.

“How’s it look?” Steve asks.

“He looks pretty.”

Steve can’t help it anymore. Can’t hold back the stream of tears that have been bottled up and threatening to overflow since he got the call. The tears squeeze through tightly closed eyelids and roll down his cheeks as he just buries his face into Billy’s braided hair.

“He does. Doesn’t he?” Steve gently wraps his arms around Billy’s chest, careful around the dressing over his scar. Fully taking in for the first time that Billy is still here. For the past month Billy’s being alive was just simply something he was told. Never something he got to see. Now he does see it. Now he sees it and he feels the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Feels his heart beat against his chest. He’s right there and he was going to be okay.

He had to be okay. That was the only way Steve would be okay too.

“I’m sorry.” Max apologizes. He knows why she says it. He doesn’t need clarification.

“It’s not your fault.”

Max gives Steve a half smile and uses her free hand to squeeze his shoulder.

“I don’t want to cut his hair.” Steve takes in a deep breath. “But I know it has to be me.”

“I could do it.”

Steve shakes his head at her. “No. I made a promise. It can’t be anyone else.”

“Well I’ll be here with you if it helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you for loving my brother.”

They sit there for a while in just complete silence save for the muffled chatter from outside the walls and the occasional beeping from one of the many machines Billy had been wired up to. Hopper only arrives around ten minutes later with two coffees in hand and a red Jansport on his shoulder. He hands Steve his cup and Max her backpack and takes a seat in the other chair that’s near the door.

“You two alright?” Hopper asks. He probably noticed Steve’s tear stained cheeks and the somber atmosphere of the room he walked into.

The two of them nod. Steve goes in to begin nursing the hot cup of coffee and Max begins to sift through her bag. Pulling out her camera case and two small glass bottles.

“I have red and orange.”

“Billy hates orange Max! You know this!” Steve laughs.

“I know that. Was just messing with you.” She tosses the bottle of red nail polish over to Steve. “You paint, I’ll take pictures.”

Max takes a few shots while Steve coats Billy’s nails in a shiny bright red varnish. Still in the same position of Billy sitting in between Steve’s legs with a pillow on his chest for Billy to lay back on. He brings a coated hand to his lips to gently blow dry. All the while Max is snapping candid photos of the two, passing each piece of film over to Hopper for him to put into his shirt pocket to allow it to develop.

“You guys want one of all three of you?” Hopper asks. He’s been mostly silent the whole time. Nursing his own coffee while he watched Max prance around the room with her camera.

“That would be great.” Max says, handing the camera over to Hopper before she makes her way over to the bedside. Leaning into the frame. Steve pulls Billy’s braid forward so that it’s now draped over his shoulder and visible. Intertwining his fingers with Billy’s now dry and red coated ones. He smiles as the flash temporarily blinds him.

They take as many more photos as they can until Max has run out of film. Hours pass and the hour hand is approaching eight o’clock. Meaning it’s about time.

About time to say goodbye.

The process begins slowly. Undoing the braid being the first step. Undoing the thing Billy really wanted to see for himself. The thing he’ll only get to experience in pictures. It hurt to pull the elastic from his hair and run his fingers through the perfectly woven strands.

The next part was securing it all back up into a ponytail at the top of his head. That way all Steve would have to do was make one single cut and be done with it. Allow the nurses to shave off the rest.

He knew it was going to be hard. But he didn’t anticipate it being this hard. Now holding an open pair of scissors above Billy’s head. All of his hair in between the blades. All he had to do was close his fingers together and it would begin. But he was stuck. Hands frozen still as he began to sob into Billy’s hair as Max and Hopper silently watched him. Max’s hand on his thigh and Hopper’s on his shoulder.

He couldn’t stop imagining Billy having to wake up like this. Wake up to the knowledge that his hair was gone at the hands of Steve. Wondering if maybe this would hurt him more than someone else doing it. He had to remember he made a promise. Even if it meant that Billy may wake up and hate him.

Steve’s fingers finally close the blades together and he can hear the sharp sound of cutting hair.

He made a promise.

September 19th, 1985: One Month Later

Billy’s awake.

Billy’s awake and Steve is there holding his hand as he does. It wasn’t planned, somehow fate just decided to work out in their favor.

Billy takes a while to come to. Nearly an hour before he truly recognizes who he is and where he is and who Steve is. Steve just sits there patiently while he does. Repeating over and over again that he’s in the hospital. That he’s okay. That “Steve’s here.”

Billy’s hair is short and curly now. A lighter blonde than before. It looks really good on him and he just hopes Billy is able to agree.

“Steve?” Is the first thing Billy says and Steve’s heart melts at the sound of Billy’s groggy voice.

“Yeah baby. It’s me. I’m right here.” Steve pulls Billy’s hand to his mouth and begins kissing his knuckles. Showing Billy his own painted fingernails. Maybe that will help serve as a comfort for him. “Welcome back.”

“How long?”

“Almost three months.”

Billy just nods. Then slowly moves a free hand up to scratch at his head and Steve’s heart stops. He thought he’d have more time.

His heart shatters when Billy’s hand makes contact and his half lidded eyes turn wide.

“My hair is gone.” He says before turning over to see Steve is crying.

“I’m sorry. I had to cut it. I'm so sorry.” Steve’s voice is broken and Billy takes a minute to finally register the situation. Spending about a minute pulling at the short curls in his hair before squeezing Steve’s hand with all of the strength he has. Which isn’t much.

“It’s okay.” He whispers. Pushing down his own sadness and grief over it to reassure Steve that he’s not mad at him. He couldn’t be mad at him. It hurt. It hurt to know that his hair had been taken from him. But he also knows Steve didn’t do it to hurt him. “It’s gonna grow back.” He’s not sure if he’s saying that to Steve or to himself.

Steve sniffles and apologizes again. And again. And again.

“Steve I’m too weak to kiss you so you better get down here and kiss me or I’ll fucking scream.”

Steve does as he’s told. Nose full of snot and cheek coated in tears but he does it anyway. And Billy tastes like coming home. Everything about right now feels so unreal and he just has to savor the moment before he wakes up from whatever dream reality he must be trapped in.

But he doesn’t wake up from any dream because there is no dream. Billy’s alive. Billy’s awake. And Billy is kissing him.

Things were going to be okay. He was certain of that now.

And so was Billy when Steve finally showed him the little Polaroid of him in his perfect braid. Held by Steve. Looking beautiful with his long hair. The hair will grow back. With new memories, better memories, attached to each inch.

Things were going to be okay.

next part

[royalcordelia]

Fic Masterlist: JackSparrow589 Edition

There’s never a bad time for shirbert fic recommendations, so this time, I’d like to celebrate @js589​! You (definitely) might know her as JackSparrow589 on ao3, or better yet, one of your favorite fic authors! I wanted to recommend every one of her shirbert stories and give you my two-cents about why I think every single one is a must-read.

As you read, I encourage you to drop kudos if you haven’t read and leave a comment with your thoughts! (Oldest to newest, because we’re diggin’ tonight!)

A Bit of Reciprocal Courage:  Some first kiss goodness. Gilbert drinks his respect Anne juice AND his confidence juice. 

Awestruck: If you’re missing awae, this fills in some blanks with some sweet moments and insight.

Why Can't Life Ever Go Smoothly?: Because Doctor Gilbert is irresistable to both us and Anne. 

And All Around, the Snow Fell: In which Cole was so very wonderfully, beautifully right about crushes and feelings. I love the wintery themes in this one. Definitely a good read if you’re in the heat of summer. 

Girlish Fun: The sequel to the last one. Speaks for itself! <333 

New Possibilities: I’ll let the tags speak for themselves. “Fluff, Pointless fluff, Have I mentioned fluff yet?, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings” This is not false advertising, folks.

It Is Together That We Move Forward: A missing moment we did not know we needed. An important look into accepting comfort from people we love after a tough time. 

Sweet as Pie: I always love Jerry teasing Anne about Gilbert and this oneshot DELIVERS. 

As Constant and As Fickle as the Sky: I, too, wish I was caught in the rain with Gilbert Blythe. Alas, I’ll have to live vicariously through this fic. 

Grant That I May Not So Much Seek To Be Consoled As To Console: The title of this fic makes me tear up. Living up to its name, this fic makes me cry too. A really sweet post 3x03.

Dominoes of a Dance: In which everyone ships Shirbert and they finally get their acts together. 

When Trouble Comes Knocking: We love a Jerry and Anne sibling story!!! I’m a sucker for the sheer found family vibes in this. 

It's All So Quick and I Feel Sick: I’m right there with Anne feeling her “hope and warmth... and longing.” Post dance feels comin’ right up!

In Which Minnie May Spills the Tea: If Diana hadn’t ripped Gil a new one on the train, THIS is what I would’ve wanted. Perfection. 

Could This Be the Moment: This is one of those end of season 3 fics that made watching Gilbert be an idiot a bit more bearable. The ending is so satisfying, ahhhh. <3

The Subtle Distinction Between Jealousy and Envy: When I tell you I did not know the difference between jealousy and envy until this fic. Anne and Gil have a good conversation in this one. (Though Jack, if you wanted to add a second chapter, I would not object. The suspense!) 

A Bright and Shining Future: Deserves every kudos it has. Another interesting take on the Gil/Winnie/Anne situation. 

As the Seasons Pass: A sequel to the last one! Except hotter and heavier (Jack’s words, not mine). 

Down to the Wire: Marilla said #AnneRights! And then upon further reflection, realizes that shirbert rights are Anne rights. Very satisfying though bc there is some COMMUNICATION. 

A Shattering of Expectations: Another 3x09 fix it fic that saved my life after I watched Gilbert trample all over Anne’s note. 

Moments Unseen: I would’ve killed to see Anne and Winnie’s conversation, but thanks to this story, I don’t have to! Bonus Diana + Gilbert closure too.

Better Late Than Never: A surprise Miss Stacy comes in and plots away. I like the Miss Stacy and Bash vibes in this, something we didn’t get to see.

Words From the Heart: I know for a fact y’all like post season 3 fics, so this one is for you. Twenty chapters of wonderfulness. 

Now and Always: REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD. Thorough kisses and fluff, ahoy!

To Live a Life With No Regrets: In addition to cutting the Winnie drama early, this story sends some much deserved love to my girl Ka’kwet. Overall, just so sweet and wonderful. 

A Friendly Favor: I know we’re all about missing moments from the end of season 3, but the beginning is just as important. That’s what this story does! 

That'll Be a "Yes": A sweet look into shirbert talking about their future. Something good to read if you’re having a rough day and needs some good feels. 

Inflection Points: My personal favorite! When this was being updated I waited for it daily. 10 missing moments from Season 3 that you definitely wanted to see. 

Locked In: Think 7 Minutes in Heaven, late victorian edition. Yep, it’s just as wonderful as you expect. This is also the one Jack tried to show me just how fluffy and amazing she can be. I was thoroughly impressed, but not surprised in the slightest. 

In Which Feelings Start to Bloom: An Inflection Points Continuation: Exactly what it sounds like. *Insert hallelujah chorus*.

Moonlit, Starstruck: Rated E for married love makin. In my professional shirbert opinion, there isn’t enough of this type of intimacy in shirbert fic. Very romantic, 10/10.

In Which Gilbert Makes the Decision He Damn Well Should Have: In which all of our frustrations cease because Gilbert is just...decent and sweet in this one. Thank God!! 3x08 gilbert who??

Burning Like a Fire Gone Wild: THE DRAMA. We love a good hurt/comfort/happy ending story. I loved every word of this one especially. 

To Be Your Last Good Night and Your First Good Day: I’m not usually a modern AU type gal, but this one has me changin my mind. 

Nobody Loves Me Like You Love Me: Modern AU’s that made Tessa change her mind, part 2!!

We All Need Someone To Hold: Lovely sequel to the train accident fic (see two bullets up!) Read that one first for sure! Thank me later. 

The Wolves Came and Went and We're Still Standing: Modern AUs that made Tessa change her mind, Wedding Edition!! The gettin’ is good, fam! 

Like a Heartbeat Skip, Like an Open Page: Jack is a master at canon compliant moments and if you don’t believe me, look no further, just click the heckin’ link. 

Skating Lessons: Another fic to read if you’re unbearably hot this summer! A snowy, fluffy, shirbert dream of a fic!

Dressed Up/Dressed Down: Another E fic. I know most of y’all got a thing for shirbert in each other’s clothes so make sure you thank Jack personally for this one. 

A Most Unexpected Remedy: When Jack delivers, she REALLY delivers. Another fic diving into Anne and Winnie’s conversation. Her and I were both mad about Winnie’s characterization, and so Jack fixed it up real nice!

Over the Sky: This is the soiree reunion fic I wanted like NONE OTHER. 3.3k words of dreams come true! 

As the New Era Dawns: This story took my heart in its hands and squeezed it. Different than a lot of her other works, but so so so beautiful just the same. I have a soft spot for this one. 

In Which Diana Yells at Gilbert an Episode Early: AS SHE SHOULD!!!! In Jack’s words, “The title speaks for itself, folks.”

Somniferous: Smoochin’ and sleepin’ to the MAX, fam. A 5+1 fic that stole my heart away. 

The Relentless Persistence of Destiny: Lastly, the (currently) unfinished AU that peeks into what would’ve happened if Anne and Gilbert would’ve met in college. Gotta tell you, this story is refreshing for very clear reasons (mostly, it doesn’t make a reality show out of two very sweet, human people.) Bookmark this one so you have something happy to read when you’ve got the sads. 

To you, the reader, I hope you enjoy these works as much as I have. Again, if you do, be sure to let Jack know. 

To Jack, thank you for writing 46 stories that have gotten this fandom through such crazy times! Through Season 3, cancellation, and a pandemic, you always gifted us with such wonderful content, even though your own personal life bore its own challenges. It’s been such a privilege being your friend and enjoying your beautifully crafted stories. Happy birthday, my love <33

[takeallofme-mj]

SOULMATES  (TEASER)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut & Angst

Summary: The man who helped you through the darkest times of you life, your soulmate. The one you thought you were never going to meet, is standing right in front of you declaring to be a fan of the stories you created about him. 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression, suicide references, anxiety, mental health issues, future smut. 

SOULMATES  (TEASER)

Monday; 5:30 a.m. September 2020.

Laying in my bed, awake, I found myself thinking that the only thing an unemployed twenty-three-year-old -college dropout- should be doing at 5:30 in the morning is sleeping. There was no reason to stay awake. I did not have a job to blame for waking up this early.

Well, I also did not just wake up unexpectedly either. I simply have not slept at all in weeks.

After a few minutes of repeatedly torturing myself with negative thoughts, my bladder  warned me about my need to pee – badly- However, the thought of leaving the bed felt like hiking the Himalaya on bare feet, wearing inadequate clothing during a crude winter storm in the middle of a December night.

After sighing one last time, I decided to take my phone from the impromptu nightstand table located on the right side of my double bed – there was no point on keep on trying to sleep, I already knew it was not going to happen- The bed and the mediocre attempt of a nightstand -which consisted of a wood fondling table- took most of the space of my tiny room, so there was little to none effort made when I reached out for the electronic device.

-Kim Namjoon-

Those are the words I have found myself typing every day for the last 3 months.

Kim Namjoon was a gift from the universe, a blessing or maybe just a coincidence if you are a little too skeptical.

Namjoon, was not the love of my life, there were high chances that we never got to meet each other, and even higher ones, that the love of his life will be someone way better than me.

Even though I knew he was not the person I was supposed to find at the end of my red threat of destiny -if there’s even such a thing- Kim Namjoon, will always be one of the most important people in my life.

He caught my attention because he was all the things, I used to be a few years ago –  the hundred times better version of myself, to be honest-

Kim Namjoon felt like the male version of who I used to be a couple years ago – the sane version of myself-.

Kim Namjoon and I had many things in common, for example, We taught ourselves English through music and T.V shows, we loved the show F.R.I.E.N.D.S, we loved to read books, we were both blessed with the talent of destroying everything around us -by doing absolutely nothing else outside of existing- we loved poetry, we had sexy brains and we also shared a big love for nature and art.

My connection – if I can even dare to call it that- to him went beyond these superficial personality traits or zodiac sign compatibilities, our zodiac signs are actually completely incompatible - just in case you were wondering-.

Every single word he said, every single thought he shared, reminded me of that smart woman who walked around like she owned the world when she was just twenty years old– the woman I used to be so proud to called myself-.

Kim Namjoon gave me a sense of peace; he felt like home -even though I’ve never been in his presence-. He made me feel like I could trust him. He made me want to be a better person. He made everything bearable.

Kim Namjoon was simply my best coping mechanism.

At this point I really do want to believe that there was such a thing as a “past life” where he was definitely my soulmate or the love of my life. I know I should have been laughing at such silly thoughts, he clearly did not write that thinking about me, he probably was not thinking about anything else but his own feelings. However, every time I heard him sing, I felt my soul connecting to his in a way I could not describe with words. It felt as if 40 years ago or maybe centuries ago -when I was probably worth the love and admiration of people- Kim Namjoon was the one holding my hand, singing to me, and kissing my lips with the promise of forever.

Seoul, Korea. September 2024.

The grand opening of one of my dearest friend’s gallery.

An event I would not dare to miss for the world. The sophisticated gallery was located, east from the Gyeongbokgung Palace, a very prestigious area filled with many other fancy, outstanding places for artist to share their masterpieces.

Ji-Hoon, my talented friend, was proud of his achievements. His success was not handed on a silver plate. Ji- Hoon worked hard since the tender age of eight-teen years old to make his dreams a reality. He spent many years studying, investigating and perfecting his abilities, he was smart and talented enough to know how to get to the most important art’s exhibitions, and he was charismatic enough to not only be appreciated for his artistic abilities, but also for his amazing people skills as well.

My career was skyrocketing; I was clearly in a better place.

But even with all the success. I still felt like there was something missing. As if there was something waiting for me. Deep inside me, my core… or soul -according to all the spiritual advocates- was waiting for something to happen.

For something -or someone-  to change my life forever.

I spent years wondering what -or who- it was.

And it wasn’t until I saw Ji-Hoon approaching me, accompanied by a nearly six feet tall, brown haired man, with the sweetest eyes and the most mesmerizing smile, adorned with a pair of adorable dimples, that I knew what my so called soul was craving.

He was here, at an arm’s length distance.

Looking into my eyes. Standing beside my friend, completely unaware of the chaos happening inside my head. Completely oblivious to the pounding heart inside my chest, triggered by the simple sight of a man I’ve thought I’ll never get the chance to meet.

“Hello, Y/N. My name is Kim Namjoon, I’m a big fan of your inspiring words” he hesitated for a moment, but continued nonetheless “and now an official fan of your outstanding beauty as well”

My soulmate, my beautiful and precious soulmate was standing right in front of me.

[with-love-anu]

The reading nook

PAIRING: Loki x Reader

Sighing, you set up the last stack of books into its case. Why could people not learn to keep the things where they picked it from? “The Reading Nook“ was a library cum bookstore you inherited from your father. It was a cute little shop present just by the corner of a street next to a café. You had a bunch of loyal customers and a bunch of college students who were always in and out. That still left you with a lot of time and in those moments, you drew. The doorbell tinged as a young man with long raven hair came in. You recognized him immediately. How could you not? They were all over the news. You didn’t let that fact deter you. You greeted him with your customary smile.

“Hello! Is there something I could help you with?” you said as he looked at you.

“No, I’ll be good. Can you just point me towards a place where I would not get disturbed?” he asked as you nodded. You pointed towards the farthest couch behind a shelf. He strode towards it without sparing you another glance. You shook your head getting back to your own desk. You worked on your latest piece, getting up to help some customers when needed. It was just around closing time when Loki strode up to you and bought a book and left without another word.

You sighed. It had been a long day.

***

The god continued to come at your little library almost daily. He would move to the corner sit there all day long and leave near the closing time. Sometimes he would buy a book or two, or a new pen or diary you’d put on display. It was quiet. You never quite expected him to be such, being a literal prince in his own world. But then again, he always dressed as if he was ready to meet the queen. You guessed the things he went through rather quieted him. There was always so much emotion in his dark green eyes, you often got lost in them while he talked to you. You hoped he didn’t notice. You had the unexplainable urge to sketch him, only to chastise yourself for thinking so.

There was a sound at the door and you turned to see Mr. Wron. You clenched your eyes shut before moving towards him. He was a nightmare.

“Hello Mr. Wron. How can I-“ you started as he just raised his hand in an indication to stop. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I would like some history books on the Nazi Period.” He demanded.

“Of course.” You said leading him to the place where the god sat. He didn’t even notice you both coming. Or rather, ignored you. You busied yourself taking out a number of books to show Wron. He was never quite pleased with anything.

“Ho ho ho! Aren’t you the monster who tried and failed to take over the earth?” his nasty voice came as you felt a chill run down your spine. You turned to look at them. Loki pretended not to listen to what was just said and was still immersed in his book. You tried to divert the situation.

“Mr. Wron, here are the boo-“ you said as he scoffed.

“How dare you let such filth enter this bookstore!” he said as you felt an unexplainable anger wash over you.

“MR. WRON! I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. Now, would you like any of these books before leaving?”

“You’re defending him?”

“I very much am. Now if you’ll cho-”

“Oh please! I’m your biggest donator, I have a say in what happens in this shop.”

“Mr. Wron we’ve never begged you to donate anything. I decide what happens here and I’ve decided that Mr. Loki would stay.” You said seething. You couldn’t let him get away with what he said. Loki had done nothing wrong, it had been explained several times over the television and if he was even a bit of the cruel person everyone deemed him to be he wouldn’t have helped you keep back every book the other day. You already had enough of this man taunting you at everything you did.

“Well then, I wouldn’t hesitate to stop my monthly fee.” He said glaring at you.

“That’s your own wish, now take your damn book and leave.” You said as he stalked closer to you. You thought he would hit you but a hand stopped him. You turned to see Loki grabbing his hand putting it away.

“She said leave.” He said furiously as your mouth dried. Mr. Wron cowered and shot you a nasty glance before leaving, slamming the door behind him. You cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry about that.” You said as the god scrutinized you.

“You didn’t do anything.” He said calmly. “Is he a partner in holding this store?”

“No, but he donates a huge amount which keeps things smooth. It’s my parent’s library.”

“I see.”

He moved to sit back on the couch and you bit your lip contemplating how to thank him for saving you.

“What do you want to say?” he asked, not looking up from his book.

“Thank you… for saving me.” You breathed as he looked up at you with a stoic expression, nodding. You sighed, going back to your desk.

***

Your eyes widened as you re-read the email the bank sent to you.

“The Stark industries has made a donation of $10,000 to the ‘The Reading Nook’”

It cannot be. That would cover every pending payment of the shop. You pinched yourself to remind yourself this all was real. You had been struggling so much to make ends meet and losing Mr. Wron had affected the finances more than you’d care to admit. There was a bell at the door as the familiar god strode in. He went straight towards his spot as you opened and closed your mouth thinking about what you would say. You went towards him hesitantly as he looked through the shelves for yet another book. Your heart was already jumping up and down at a miraculous pace.

“Mr. Loki-“

“Just Loki, please. I never quite understood midguardian terms of reverence.” He said as you nodded.

“Loki. You didn’t have to. I was-“ you started as he turned towards you.

“This is the most bearable shops in this place. I wanted to.” He said as you just hugged him tightly. You had been relieved so much by the news and couldn’t. He smelled of mint and spice. You sighed, feeling yourself relax.

“Thank you so so much. This shop means the world to me and I don’t know if I could repay you.” You mumbled as Loki stood frozen. He cleared his throat.

“You could by not squeezing the air out of me.” He said as you shook yourself, pulling back at once. Loki didn’t seem to like the loss of contact.

“Thank you.” You said one last time, before scurrying off. You knew he liked to be left alone.

Loki looked at your retreating figure. He hadn’t expected you to be so humble. A small smile overtook his features. No-one here had ever talked to him like he was normal, and you’d always done that. Defending him from the man who helped your shop grow? It had warmed his heart. Perhaps not everyone on this planet was selfish.

***

Loki frowned at the small parcel you held before him.

“I really wanted to thank you. I know it’s not much. But, really, I could not be more grateful. I’ve been told I’m quite good at baking so…” You said handing him the packet. He took it cautiously peering inside to find a small cake box containing brownies and a black leather bound diary and a sleek pen. Exactly how he liked his stationery. He gulped before looking at you again.

“Thank you for this generous present (Y/n).” he said softly as your eyes widened a little. Your heart fluttered at the way it sounded coming from him.

“You know my name?” you asked as the god rolled his eyes.

“I hear it being shouted by all kinds of customers who come here. And you’re quite a lady” He said as you tried hard not to blush more.

“I’ll go then.” You said in a squeaky voice, leaving. Loki tried hard not to slap himself. You’re quite a lady?

***

Something shifted after that. Silence turned into small talks and eventually actual conversations. It was mostly you who talked, him who listened. You always felt like you would bore him but he held on to each of your word. When you would ask him about his, he would usually tell something about ‘useless’ missions and Stark and the other avengers. You would lightly smile at it thinking how different your two worlds were, yet Loki made it seem like nothing. Very rarely he would tell you about Asgard, you’d be patient so as to not push him. He would tell you how his mother taught him magic. You always looked at him in awe of how he held himself, how many stories he had to share.

You took him to the café next door to have him try coffee and other delights. He had raised an eyebrow at the drink and had commented something about Midgaurdians needed energy boosts all the time as you’d rolled your eyes. You, for a fact knew that he quite loved baked goods. Still, you kept going out to the minimum because of the number of stares you’d get from people who would point at the two of you. You understood his decision of staying cooped up in a far corner. You’d bring him lunch along with yours, a thing that touched him to the core. You would often bake him cookies, knowing how much he loved them.

You yawned adding some last shades to your drawing. Vishnu: the hindu god of life. You had been studying Indian art for quite some time and were mesmerized.  You had to try it yourself. There was a cough as you looked up to see Loki standing at the desk awkwardly.

“I’ve finished the collection there and am quite bored to start a new one. Why don’t you entertain me by showing me your art? I’ve seen you working on it far too many times.” He said as you stifled a giggle.

“I would hardly call my art entertaining.” You teased as he rolled his eyes. You bit your lip. You weren’t a great fan of showcasing your art but something told you, showing Loki wouldn’t be so bad. You handed him the book carefully, your heart thumping as he looked at each passing piece.

“You have quite a talent.” He whispered looking at the latest work. You flushed.

“My mother taught me how to draw. She was a great artist herself.” You said as something flicked in his eyes.

You looked at him as he smiled. You knew it was genuine. It wasn’t the smirk he gave people.

“I would love to draw you.” You blurted, not being able to help yourself. Loki’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Me?” he said as you nodded.

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

***

Loki sat in a visible couch for the next few days so you could see him easily. As you drew him slowly, you wondered whether it was an excuse to blatantly stare at him. He was beautiful, there was no doubt in that. Black, dark locks licking his cheekbones which were as sharp as a knife. Pink soft looking lips, and pale skin. He was soft yet cutting at the same time. But his eyes were what had captured you the most. You flushed as he looked at you.

Loki had found it difficult to concentrate on his book when you studies him like that. He tried not to let a pink blush cover his cheeks to match the fluttering of his heart. Loki looked at you wrapping up.

A few strokes and it was done. You sighed looking at your final work. A pathetic attempt at capturing something so real and full of emotions. You saw Loki coming towards you and felt nervous again. He would want to see it. You had not let him even glance at the unfinished work no matter how much he tried or pouted. It had proven to be difficult. You just handed him the book, before finally having the courage to look at him. He stared at it with an un-readable expression. Your mind was numb imaging all the things he might be thinking.

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered at last looking at you as you felt all air leave your lungs. You didn’t know what got over you. You moved up and pressed your lips against his, pulling back quickly, realizing what you were doing. You looked at Loki with pleading eyes wishing you didn’t push him away. Loki cupped your cheek with his hand and pulled to kiss you again. His lips devoured you as you felt your mind zoom. All the emotions raging you for months coming out all together. It was like you were on fire. You pulled back to breathe, pressing your forehead against his chest. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer.

“Are you sure you want this, love?” He whispered as you wrapped your hands around him looking at him. He stared at you so softly, you felt like you could melt.

“I cannot wish for anything better.” You whispered back.

A/N: Ahahaha my very first Loki fic and it’s pure fluff! Tell me what you think!

[honsoolie]

don’t rush | 03

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings: mentions of alcohol (everyone is sober!!), explicit smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), min yoongi has a dirty mouth 

words: 6k 

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: ahhh i hope you’re as excited for this chapter as i am ;) start from the beginning? 

You never realized how easy it was for your life to fall into a smooth common time rhythm, now that the semester was in full swing. School, music, dodging your friends (usually to go practice), and now, Yoongi. You find yourself slipping into the gentlest of cadences. Spring is coming, the flowers are blooming. There’s a new spring in your step, from the warming weather or the constant daily dose of Yoongi, you’re not sure. 

You go to classes, pay your dues in the library. Write the papers that need to be written. You throw yourself into practice. At times you wake up in that half-awake morning sleep, fingers twitching with whatever phrase you were perfecting the previous night. The same cancelled plans, weekend meetups whenever you can manage. 

You study with Yoongi. Or at least, that’s the pretense that you operate under when you go to his apartment. By now, you’re there more often than not. (To be fair, it’s much a much better place to study than your room, what with the in-and-out bustle of your roommate. And, well, it’s Yoongi. ) 

On the nights that aren’t as busy, and you’re not filled with the swelling dread that the impending Bach Festival brings, you practice that Brahms piece with Yoongi in the dingy practice rooms. Much to Yoongi’s dismay, you had started your meetings (lovingly) calling “weekly jam sessions.” Although they were neither weekly nor really jam sessions. Most of the time that you spent in the practice room with him was either laughing at whatever joke he had just cracked, or thumbing through your score, trying to pick up where you had left off. The time you had left until your performance at the Bach Festival was quickly decreasing and you never really found the time to practice the Brahms to properly do it justice, but that wasn’t the point. 

The point, like Yoongi had said, was to get you to find the joy in the music again. Secondary to that was hopefully finding the bravery and confidence to play in front of other people, and Yoongi’s plan was slowly working. After all, you can’t really worry about your intonation at the same time that you’re groaning at Yoongi’s shitty dad jokes. If you didn’t know better, these jam sessions really serve to be a shoddy excuse for what should really be called a date. 

When Yoongi invites you to meet him in the practice rooms, to practice this romantic piece of music, and offers to get dinner with you afterward, how could you call it anything but a date? 

Especially when he insisted on holding your hands if he deemed it too cold. He would shake his head in mock disdain, chiding you in a way that felt nothing like criticism. 

Where are your gloves, y/n?  

Or God forbid that Yoongi decided that your evening attire wasn’t suitable for the still-frigid weather, and you ended up going through the whole night wearing one of his jackets. Every time you turned your head or moved ever so slightly, you would again be surrounded by the fresh-laundry-cute-piano-major smell of his clothing, and it would take every muscle in your body to not swoon right then and there. 

~

Your first violin teacher had always said to you, “You can’t hide from the metronome. The metronome always tells you the truth.” As a child, it wasn’t bow maneuvers or intonation or memorizing pieces that escaped you. It was keeping the simple rhythm, keeping track of the steady downbeat. You could have been learning the most straightforward pieces, but would get tripped up at simple syncopation patterns or start rushing at the wrong places. And that was something that plagued you into your life as a music student. It was difficult to corral your tempo problem, sometimes derailing orchestra rehearsals or struggling with the same sections over and over during your own practice. All because you would stray away from the gentle tick of the metronome. 

Yoongi, however, kept the time for you. Like the metronome, he didn’t lie to you. He kept you grounded. 

When your thoughts would begin to race and run miles ahead of your heart, Yoongi would look into your eyes with that reverent tenderness and tell you it was going to be okay. Then he would pull that wry smile of his and everything melted away. Sometimes, words weren’t necessary and rather, he would pull you into a tight hug that left both of you breathless.

He wasn’t always easy on you. If he knew you were acting unreasonably fretful, he would tell you the truth. Didn’t feel the need to dress it up in gentle words or beat around the bush. Then he would tell you a sex joke that he probably got from a joke book and then the weight on your shoulders was lifted, albeit briefly. Sometimes the tough love approach works. (Although, at times, it seemed like that this whole stage fright ordeal was the only thing that he could be direct with you about.) 

The pressure was mounting, advancing on all sides. Dr. Kim gave you more-than-firm reminders in the form of tight-lipped smiles every lesson, circling dates and deadlines on the lesson notes marked with your name. Dr. Yang greeted you in the hallways, jesting, “Can’t wait to hear the Bach!” Your university email inbox was flooded with music department newsletter updates, promoting the upcoming festival in every. Single. Email. Staring at the “OPEN TO THE PUBLIC” notice printed at the bottom of the e-flyer probably wasn’t doing anything to help you perfect the Baroque interpretation on Bach’s partita, but there it was, looking back at you. Taunting you. 

There was only so much time until your fated performance, only so many hours left to practice, only so many days left until finals week descended upon your campus. Two weeks, if you wanted to get technical about it. 

And Yoongi somehow made it all bearable. 

Like all things in life, adjusting to Yoongi took time. He set new baselines for you. New thresholds on what was friendly banter, ever toeing the carefully drawn line. 

Ever since that pivotal study date (You know, the one where Yoongi held you down and told you he was going to make you beg? Kind of hard to forget.), the signs inexplicably became more and more mixed. Or you were just living in a constant state of denial. 

Because all of the things that he said and did with you, none of them could be considered flirting. You didn’t want to give into that belief. It felt too self-indulgent, too good to be true. It felt like setting yourself up for failure. 

Because if you did, well, that would warrant action. If you decided what he said with you was flirting or something-more-than-just friends, then you would have to do something about that. 

You would either have to take his carefully extended invitation, or reject him. Neither of which you were willing to do. The space that the two of you had come to exist in became precious to you, even if you remained only as friends. Ever before you ever spoke with him, you had spent a great deal of time admiring from afar. Pining is all you’ve known, at least when it comes to Min Yoongi. Wouldn’t it be easier to take the path of least resistance? 

And of course, what if you were wrong? Reading all the signs wrong, falling again into the trap of wishful thinking. Things in real life are never like reading off a score. There are no dynamic or expression markings telling you how to broach this kind of conversation. 

By now, the unwillingness to speak on the matter is irrefrangible. Like an ancient tradition, some unspoken agreement to ignore the elephant in the room. 

Yoongi wanted you, you wanted Yoongi. At least, that’s what you wanted to think. That’s what all the signs pointed to. But it was too late to mention it now. You and Yoongi let it drag on, well past midterms and trundling on in the slow march toward finals. And the Bach Festival. 

Unless, of course, this was a total non-issue. Maybe this was how he talked to all your friends. Maybe this was just how Yoongi was nice. Maybe he just has a totally dirty sense of humor… that clicked perfectly with yours. 

Here’s the catch. Interpretation isn’t always all that simple, especially with Bach. You have to get historical context, you need to know enough about esoteric Germany to know how to interpret the markings on Bach’s scores. It’s not always so easy, but that makes things all the worse. 

It’s all the maybes and what-ifs that plague you when you’re restless at night and the only thing you can think about is Yoongi. Maybe he’s into you, maybe he’s not. What if he’s actually repulsed by you and he just wants a study partner? What if this whole study buddy thing is just a ploy to get you to spend time with him, because what if he’s actually just as into you as you are into him? Maybe he just wants to be friends, but what if he doesn’t? 

What if Yoongi is actually an alien, and he’s trying to decipher how to act like a human being, and that’s why he acts like that? 

What if. 

You would have better luck divining your future with Yoongi in your coffee dregs rather than lay awake, staring at the mildewing ceiling tiles. 

~

You (8:18pm): want to work on the Brahms tonight 

You (8:19pm): we can get boba if it’ll sweeten the deal 

 Yoongi (8:23pm): sure

Yoongi (8:24pm): I was going to go out later tonight so we can practice for like an hour

 You (8:26pm): oh 

 Yoongi (8:26pm): I’ll make it up to you though, i promise. Boba on me? 

Yoongi (8:27pm): you should come out with me, namjoon will be there 

Yoongi (8:27pm): taehyung too 

Yoongi (8:27pm): we literally all know each other, let’s gooooo pls 

 You (8:28pm): i wish but it’s literally thursday dude 

You (8:29pm): have a drink in my name :) 

 Yoongi (8:30pm): will do 

Yoongi (8:31pm): meet me in 115B in twenty minutes, what boba do you want? 

~ 

So Yoongi does have a sense of fashion outside of sweatpants and beanies after all. White button-up, but only a few buttons are actually done up. Sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Dark jeans, and god, that belt . The need to cry or get on your knees right then and there is overwhelming. 

Wow, everything works for him. Every time you think you’ve done the impossible task of not having a visceral reaction in his presence, he does something like this. You never know what specific flavor of Yoongi will appear before you at any given time. 

Yoongi, aloof college student. Yoongi, dark and mysterious man who buys you a drink in a hazy bar. Yoongi, the concert pianist with hands of steel and a heart of gold. Yoongi, the love of your life—no. No, we are not going there. 

It’s a crush, it’s a harmless crush, nobody said anything about love. 

You try to get your head out of the mushy-falling-in-love gutter by doing what you do best. Flirting with him, teasing him, poking fun at him for the littlest things. “You clean up well, don’t you.” You all but sneer, incongruous with the heat spreading across your face. “You’re late.” 

“Well, I was taking care of an important errand. Look,” He shakes your iced drink in front of him. 

You take a sip, refreshing despite the still-frigid weather. “Fuck, we’re so bad. We shouldn’t be eating in here.” 

“We’re not technically eating, are we?” 

“You’re right.” He never, ever fails to make you laugh. Or everything he says is funny. “Let’s get started, I don’t want you to be late,” you say, fiddling with the music stand. 

“You should cooooome out, y/n. Don’t be so boring for once.” 

You gasp. “I’ll pretend like that didn’t hurt. And I won’t know anybody there, and I’m not even dressed to go out, and it’s Thursday .” You gesture to your evening loungewear, your barren face. 

“Okay, but just this once. You’ll have to come out with me next time.” It sounds like a promise, or maybe a demand, when he says it. 

Come out with me next time. Again, you wonder if he knows the implication behind his words, if he really ever means what he says. 

You pull your music out of your backpack, the plastic sleeve of your binder crackling underneath your touch. It’s a familiar sound. You set a pencil on your music stand, like you’ve done thousands of times before. 

“Let’s get started, Yoongi.” He takes a seat at the piano bench, smiling contentedly. You smile back at him, and for a still moment, everything feels just right. 

~

Yoongi isn’t usually late to class. He usually comes in a couple minutes early, headphones on and deaf to the warble of students around him. You know this, because you’ve always made it a point to show up especially early to the classes you share, just so you can watch him scroll through his phone for the few precious minutes before class starts. 

Today, he stumbles in right after Dr. Won, wearing last night’s clothes and a bucket hat undoubtedly covering a messy bedhead. He’s missing his usual coffee, and the bags under his eyes belie the smile he gives you. Yoongi says nothing as he sinks into the seat beside you, cradling his head in his arms. You sense the opportunity to tease him, and pull your phone into your lap. 

You (10:06am): it looks like someone had a rough night 

 Yoongi (10:08am): you should mind your own business and pay attention 

Yoongi (10:09am): i don’t look that bad do i :( 

 You (10:10am): just tired that’s all 

You (10:11am): still drunk or something? 

 Yoongi (10:11am): nope painfully sober 

Yoongi (10:11am): let’s get day drunk after this >:) 

 You (10:13am): no <3 

Maybe his questionable inebriation lowered his inhibitions, which might explain his knee nudging yours underneath the desk. Looks like he didn’t forget your previous conversation. It’s not an accident; accidental knees are nowhere as insistent as Yoongi is being now. You nudge your knee back, as if to say, two can play at that game.  

Yoongi (10:14am): still touch starved? ;)

 You (10:16am): fuck off >:(  

Your theory is confirmed when he inches his hand closer and closer to you, finally resting his hand on your knee. His thumb draws languid circles on the inner part of your thigh, insistent but gentle, playful but...  possessive. It’s a lot to take in at once. 

However, you don’t need alcohol to stoop down to his level. You’ll never let him get the upper hand on you without a fight, no matter how much the butterflies in your stomach would like to contest that. 

You take his hand and place it back in his own lap, trying your best to stay discreet. You keep your eyes trained on Dr. Won, but your gaze still slides back to Yoongi. When you look at him, he’s looking at you in contempt. “Is that a challenge,” his eyes seem to ask.

Slowly, tentatively, you slide your hand from the desk into your lap. It doesn’t get Yoongi’s attention at first, until you gently greet his hand with yours. He’s still looking at you with those same taunting eyes. 

Sometimes you can’t stand how cocky he is. And other times, like these, you love it. You just want to take him down a notch. Your journey underneath the table continues when your hand comes to rest on his thigh, trailing your fingertips along until you find the inner seam of his pants. He’s warm and solid under your touch. It feels overwhelmingly real, and you wonder if you have the guts to finish what you started. 

You try to keep a neutral face, like this isn’t affecting you at all, like you do this all the time with other cute piano performance majors. The smile breaks through your facade anyway. You bite the inside of your cheek red in an attempt to stop it, and you renew your efforts to continue taking notes. 

Your smile turns into a stifled gasp when Yoongi guides your hand higher up his thigh, his hand dwarfing yours. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the half-hardness between his legs, holding your hand in place.

 Blatantly, you realize, your actions have consequences. This is real. This, whatever this is, with Yoongi, is real. Neither of you can fake it anymore. 

The blushing starts up again, creeping down your neck. The heat spreads through the rest of your body, settling in the pit of your stomach, replacing the nervous knots that were there not an hour ago. This was most definitely not what you were expecting. Was fake-drunk Yoongi really going to take the flirty banter this far? You thought that was just part of being friends with Yoongi. Do all his friends get to touch his dick? 

You really should have thought this through more, but you’re going to finish what you started. 

You use the heel of your hand to trace along the length of his cock, dragging it slowly just to tease him for his contempt. You’re suddenly thankful that nobody can see what you’re doing from your angle in the classroom. He shifts into your touch, still not quite looking at you. Yoongi picks his pen up again, scrawling on the blank corner of your notebook. 

“I’m a horny drunk,” it reads. You roll your eyes. Everything is a joke to him, you posit. 

You continue your gentle teasing. Eventually, Yoongi rocking back into your touch. Not once do you tear your eyes off the Powerpoint slides projected across the room. This is the only time in your life you’ve ever cared so much about the beautiful simplicity of Bach’s fugue subjects. 

But in the end, no matter how hard you try, you can only focus on one thing at once. And the task at hand (literally) was to tease Min Yoongi to full hardness. You were fairly successful. 

Yoongi picks his pen up again. “Just so you know,” he writes, “ I’m about to blow a load.” He places your hand back in your lap, patting it for good measure. You don’t miss the way that his hand trembles. 

“I’m a girl with a mission,” You retort, as petulant as you can be with a pen. “Let me finish the job.”  

“Continue your mission after class.”  

Oh. Friends don’t do this with each other. 

You scribble over your correspondence with your pen. 

~

You wish you could take the extra time to explore the inside of Yoongi’s apartment, despite how many times you’ve been here already. Maybe there would be something new to decipher, now that you were here under different pretenses. You catch scant glimpses of the familiar quaint kitchenette and the neatly organized rack of shoes, but you’re now preoccupied with Yoongi’s hands on your waist, tugging your shirt out of where it was tucked into your pants. You see the same guitar on the same wire stand and the same MacBook sitting idle, but your view is obscured after Yoongi presses you up against the door. 

It’s a feat of mental strength to stay upright, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

~

After class, Yoongi had shot up from his seat, hand in his pocket, likely readjusting himself. His eyes were glassy. He had looked so, so wrecked. 

“Come with me,” He said, voice strained. To the untrained ear it might have sounded like a voice heavy with sleep, or maybe too many drinks too late at night. 

But to you it sounded like a voice rough with lust, or (a lot of) wanting. All for you. 

 He had grabbed you by the hand and led you back to his apartment, as nonchalant as you can be about this kind of thing. It was an unspoken truth what you two were about to do, like this was the natural order of things. Like you were just fulfilling the inevitable. Like you were always meant to fall into his arms like this. It almost makes sense. 

He had grabbed your hand and led you along the looping hallways out onto the sunny walkway like he had done this hundreds of times before, like the both of you have been touching each other like this for months—rather than just hinting and skirting around the innuendoes, the half-worn glances, the knowing smiles. 

The walk back to his apartment was silent and full of untapped sexual tension coming to a head. Even if the hammering in your chest allowed you to speak, you wouldn’t have. It passed by in a blur, the denial giving you tunnel vision. 

Yoongi is holding your hands in his, like this is a much more intimate moment than it should be. “You still don’t have gloves,” He murmurs against your lips, but he doesn’t close the gap. It sounds more like a promise rather than a statement. 

He’s warming you up from the inside out, erasing the cold from the walk here. Spring was still slowly waking up. The sun takes time to melt the snow. 

He rolls his hips against yours, more insistent than he was in class. When he does, you can feel precisely how wanting he is. All the contemptuousness is gone from his eyes. Whatever replaces it isn’t something you can give a name to.

He can’t—Yoongi can’t hold your hands like that and look solemnly into your eyes like that. Yoongi can’t look at you with that kind of reverence, because that was what made you fall into this deep dark pit of confusing feelings in the first place. But you don’t have time to consider it because he’s rolling his hips against yours again. 

“Look,” he gasps, “Look at what you did to me.” When you look at him again, his pupils are blown wide, all fucked out and desperate and wanting. If it was physically possible, he might be more desperate than you, from the look of it. 

“I thought you said you were a horny drunk.” You tease, and to steer the conversation away from the way he had been looking at you. That’s a conversation that you’re not ready for—neither of you are ready for. 

 After these weeks of back and forth, you’re finally going to make him say what he’s really been thinking all along. You’re done being the cat chasing after the mouse.

The Yoongi in front of you is a far cry from the one before, teasing you for not having been laid in months, showing you just how dirty his mouth could get. 

“No, this is all you…” He breaks off into a breathy moan, muffled by your hair. His hips are still slotted against yours, and your ability to ignore that is diminishing by the second. 

Who knew that the stoic Min Yoongi could ever produce such a whimper? 

“I have to get to class, can’t be late…” You tease, trailing a finger down his chest, but you’ve already made up your mind with what you’re going to do with him. 

You’re going to stay. 

You can worry about the loose ends later. 

“Please stay, just a little longer, please.” He guides you over to the couch, clutching your hand like a damn lifeline. When he straddles your hips, you’re reminded of the last time he held you down, when you were studying together. That memory seems faint now. It’s funny how context can change everything. 

“You won’t be late, I promise,” He says, voice coarse. “And I’m going to fucking show you what this mouth can do.” 

“And you have to promise not to ever drink that much again, what the fuck.” You chastise, your breath hitching at his promise, but you don’t really care. Not if it gets Yoongi like this. Your hand comes to rest on the waistband of his jeans. 

“I didn’t have that much, I was just up late… thinking about you.” He starts to unbutton the collar to your shirt, slotting his leg between yours. Yoongi traces the cup of your bra with a daintiness that reminds you of the way he runs his hands over the keys of the piano before he reels up to play. Knowing that these hands that create his beautiful music are the same hands that are currently on your body produces a shiver that sparks down your spine. 

You try not to put too much stock into what he’s saying, he’s always been all talk. It’s just words to get you in the mood, set the scene. Yoongi has always been all bark and no bite, teasing you with empty, joking promises. That was his whole gimmick, if you could call it that. 

He knows you like dirty talk (you made that abundantly clear from that last conversation), you’re a warm and eager body in front of him, you can do the math yourself. There’s no need to read between the lines for this one. 

The gasp you make when he starts mouthing down your neck is involuntary, as is the way that you thread your fingers through his hair when he moves his way down your chest. 

Yoongi’s hair is uncharacteristically soft, like silk, or the little sigh of satisfaction he makes when he finds the sweet spot he’s looking for. You briefly consider asking him about his haircare routine when he closes his mouth over your nipple. Hot, wet, and everything you needed to forget about the long afternoon ahead of you. 

“Please, please.” He pleads again. “Please stay. I’ll make it worth your while.” 

“Okay,” You gasp, “Okay, I’ll stay.” 

“Good, because I’ll make you eat your fucking words,” Yoongi says, gritting his teeth. He’s fully unbuttoned your shirt now, and you are all but bare to him, save for your bra. “What were you thinking? Touching me like that? In class? What if someone saw? But you don’t care about that, right?” 

He doesn’t wait for your answer, however, instead opting to kiss bruises into your collarbones, adding to the faded violin hickey on the left side of your neck.

You are a deer in headlights, frozen in place, completely pliant underneath his touch. Even if you weren’t pinned underneath him with his hands and legs, then you are underneath his piercing gaze. You know he can probably see more than just your shocked, open-mouthed expression. He can probably see your longing written all over your face, or maybe the special kind of glee that comes from wish fulfillment. You might as well confess your feelings for him now, because your expression has all but told him the truth. 

“Did you forget what I said to you the other day? I’m supposed to be the one teasing you until you’re fucking desperate to come, not the other way around.” You shake your head no, lost for words. Who’s going to tell him you’re already desperate to come, sans teasing? 

He starts to push your pants past your thighs, kissing at the skin that’s now bare—and you squirm, whine, whimper into his touch, just to show him how much you want this. Want him. 

Somehow, it feels better like this, with the way he’s left your clothes half on, half off. The collar of your shirt is undone. There is a trail of four socks leading to the couch. It… it…  almost suggests that Yoongi is in such a rush to have you that he can’t be bothered to undress you properly. Like he needs you that much. You ignore the following twinge in your heart. 

All you can focus on is the fine bead of sweat on his hairline as he sways on top of you, ghosting a hand over your panties. When you finally feel him nudging against your clit with insistent, slow pressure, you make a strangled gasp. 

Faintly, you hear yourself cry out into the filtered indoor air, just above the sound of the heater humming. It doesn’t sound like your voice, but you’re too far gone to care or investigate further. All you can focus on is the increasingly hopeless need between your legs, and the person that’s currently about to attend to that. You’ve never heard yourself make noises like these before, let alone meet someone who’s able to make you so desperate. 

Your desperation makes itself tangible in the way that you writhe against him, straining against the warm weight of his body, too much and never enough. It feels like your body is making up for lost time, getting revenge for all the almost-touches, almost-confessions. All those quiet moments in the still night where you should have kissed Yoongi but didn’t, never closing the gap. 

Even now, when you’re right up against his body, it doesn’t feel like enough. Should it scare you that it doesn’t like enough, and you’re almost certain it never will be?

He laughs, almost coldly. It sounds nothing like the morning that you met him. This is a different kind of cold, a different kind of cruelty. “You sound like a little bitch in heat. What, you can’t be a little patient?” He checks the time on his watch, because of course, Yoongi is the kind of guy to wear an analog watch. “We still have time before your next class.” 

At your silence, he softens. He takes his hands off of you, much to your dismay. “Is that—okay? Can I call you that?” You should be embarrassed at the enthusiasm in your nod, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care. 

Yoongi leans over you again, grinning. “Don’t worry, I like it. I like having you like this. All desperate and,” Yoongi drags a finger downward , “Wet.” 

“Fuck, don’t tease. Don’t-” You’re absolutely shameless now, but it doesn’t matter, as long as you can get some kind of relief. 

“Are you sure? Then it would be over so, so soon.” Yoongi returns to your clit, tracing light circles that only serve to incense you. “Can you even take it?” He pulls your panties askew, blowing gently on the exposed skin. You shiver, now realizing just how wet you are for him. 

“Yes, yes, please, I can, just give it to me–” His finger meets little resistance when he finally pushes a finger inside your needy cunt, immediately setting a punishing rhythm. 

“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He kisses the crook of your thigh, settling ever closer to you. “I told you I would get you to beg.” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Oh, shut up.” You cover your face in your hands, laughing despite yourself. “Not everything is a competition, you know.” 

He works you open with skill because, of course, Yoongi is good at this too. It’s not enough for fate to make him a diligent student, a talented pianist, and have a heart of motherfucking gold. No, he just has to be good in bed too. How are you supposed to resist falling for him? Was it ever worth the effort to try? 

“But it’s so much more fun like that. You know, I don’t appreciate this backtalk.” He presses deeper on that sweet spot inside of you, and you keen, eyes fluttering shut. “Seeing as I’m the one who’s going to make you come, and all.” All the light is gone from his voice now. 

“You’re going to be good for me, right?” Yoongi says, as if the answer could be anything other than a firm, enthusiastic yes. He tightens your grip on your hips, his blunt nails digging into the soft skin. 

“ Yeahyesyesyesyesanythingyouwant,” you whimper. You don’t even have to pretend like you want this dearly, as you’ve had to in the past with less doting partners. How long have you held your breath, waiting for something like this to happen?

“And I thought you were worried about being late? You didn’t get enough? Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure you get your fill.” His playful condescension sinks to the lowest parts of your stomach. 

“Yoongi,” You whine, “You’re going to kill me.” You attempt to draw your legs up in a belated attempt to preserve your modesty, but Yoongi yanks you further down the couch. 

“No, no, I’m not done with you yet.” Yoongi finally takes your panties off, inadvertently streaking your arousal down your thigh. He throws them off to the side. In doing so, you can see your arousal dripping down his wrist in the afternoon glow. 

“This, Yoongi says, with stars in his eyes, “Is payback.” 

The hot lick of his tongue feels nothing like revenge. 

Yoongi is still keeping you trapped in the same place, nowhere to go. You’re nowhere closer to a release than before. The initial thrill of his mouth on you is gone when you realize that he’s not evolving past the featherlight touches with his hands. You roll your hips against him, as if to to pout. 

“Please, Yoongi,” You gasp. 

“What? Please, what?” He smiles. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and you’re not sure whether to love or hate him for it. 

“You—you can’t—just leave someone like this.” You all but shove your pussy in his face, relentless in your pursuit of some kind of relief, no matter how small. But he won’t give it to you. The kitten licks he’s giving you aren’t enough. The uncharacteristically coquettish kisses he trails down the inside of your thighs, leaving gooseflesh in his wake, aren’t enough. You’re insatiable. 

“Like what? I think I like you more like this.” You know he’s reveling in this, much like how he’s likely reveled in your desperation in the past weeks. Nothing he’s doing is providing relief to the need, the ache. Everything he does only serves to stoke the fire brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Yoongi, I need you.” Maybe if you keep hinting at what you want, he’ll give it to you. Because you’re not about to fucking beg for him. Again. 

“I’m going to need you to be more specific.” He drives his point home by dragging his fingers against the upper wall of your pussy. Your answering moan should be specific enough. 

“Come on…” You whimper, thighs trembling. You’re not sure if it’s from the pleasure or the lack of it. 

“Come on… use your words.” Yoongi stills his hand. 

“Just—ugh— touch me. ” you urge, whinier than you intend, exasperated and desperate. You need this release. You need it so much your vision is blurring. “Make me come,” your voice smaller, “Use your mouth, your hand, I don’t care anymore.” You throw your arm over your eyes in defeat. 

Yoongi has all the puzzle pieces laid out in front of him. He’s seen your wanting expression, now that you’ve all but admitted that you want him to give you an orgasm. How could he not see your puppy love for what it is? 

He chuckles, light as bells. “Was that so hard. And for the record, next time, you’re gonna come on my cock.” And just like that, it’s like a dam has broken. No more denial, no more teasing, no more waiting, and Yoongi is touching you in full now. 

You try not to look at him with his head buried between his legs. One, the pleasure is so immense that you can hardly stop your legs from trembling, let alone stop your head from lolling back against the couch cushion. 

Two, you’re scared. Of him looking at you, catching his eye. Of him seeing your face from below. Scared to face the truth, just a little bit. Min Yoongi, the concert pianist that you have been eyeing all semester, is servicing you with his mouth. It even sounds ridiculous in your head. 

Three, you’re not really even sure if this is happening. It is entirely plausible that you’re going to wake up tangled in your bedsheets in the dead of night and realize it was another night of mistaken belief. 

Next time. Maybe. What if. 

The few glimpses you do catch are of the dark hair caught between your fingers, handholds tethering you to the couch, to him. You can also see the indents his fingers make in your thighs, he’s holding you in place. His knuckles are white with the effort. 

“I’m-I’m gonna come. Yoongi, fuck, I’m—” When you finally crest over the edge, you all but levitate off the couch, every muscle in your body straining under the force of your orgasm. 

The sound he makes sounds almost like “you’re mine,” but you ignore that for now. You sit up, blinking in the sunlight. It might be nearly noon now, but you don’t care. Your afternoon lecture is low on your list of priorities right now. You smile wolfishly. “Your turn.” 

There’s no way to pretend anymore, no more mental gymnastics, no more what-ifs, buts, or maybes. You might as well dive in headfirst. 

[bakugou-jpg]

Cherry wine || Single dad!Tsukishima

So hello! This is something i’ve been planning on posting for awhile now. Idk if i like it or not and Tsukishima might be a bit OOC since i haven’t been in the Haikyuu fandom for very long but oh well. Tomorrow i’ll try and post the masterlist for it and how many chapters it’ll have!

-Prologue-

“I’m pregnant”

The silence that fell over the room became deafening, not a single sound except for the distant students outside of the dorm building chatting and laughing together. The fan in the corner of the room buzzed, rotating left and right and rustling some papers on the desk. The wind softly blew through his hair, making the heat more bearable than it was before but at that very moment his thoughts and gone completely blank.

The girl in front of him leaned onto the desk that was placed behind her and knitted her eyebrows together, not in anger but purely because she had been lost in thought. Her arms were crossed and she looked at the boy's feet, biting her bottom lip while doing so.

To say it was a shock, was simply too lightly. I mean, yes, the two of them hadn't exactly done much to prevent it that night so it had been quite the possibility but it had never crossed his mind. She was pregnant, something he did. The clumb of cells that was currently busy forming into a little human was because of him.

"Tsukishima"

Tsukishima's head snapped up and for a moment his eyes widened slightly. They held eye contact for a moment, neither of them breaking it. They were both, confused. Neither of them knowing what to do know and neither of them knowing what to say.

The boy adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. He folded his hands together and fiddled around with them, something he unconciously did when he was nervous. "..Oh"

Its all he could think of at that moment. Tsukishima,  a man who always knew how to respond to whatever situation with either a logic answer or a cocky remark now felt silent. He was a rational person, but now it seemed that his brain short circuited.

The girl sighed, her eyes falling down to the ground once again. She moved one of her hands to rub over her face and then started biting her thumb nail. "I found out on Sunday. I..wanted to think about it myself a bit first. Hope you understand" She said, her voice trailing off.

Tsukishima nodded. "Of course."

Another silence.

There was one question he was dying to ask, of course, the most obvious one. He was a strong believer of the belief that it was her body and her choice and that he didn't have ANY saying in what she wanted to do, but he was still curious. At that moment he didn't even know which decision he wanted or preferred. Would it be bad if he asked? Or was it too soon?

"What do you- " "I-"

They both fell silent, not wanting to interrupt one another. Tsukishima excused himself and nodded towards her. "Sorry, go on".

The girl in front of her looked a little anxious and bit her lip before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to calm her nerves. She breathed out and locked eyes with the boy standing in front of her. "I've thought about it..and decided what choice i wanted to make and i hope you can support me in that."

Tsukishima quickly nodded and waved his hand. "Your body your choice. Whatever decision you make i will respect it so do not rely on my approval" He said, something which made her worried expression relax. It felt as if there had bee a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

She nodded, letting her eyes roam around the room for a second trying to figure out how to put it into words.

"For the longest time i've planned out what i wanted to do with my life, with my future. Go to college, study to become an archeologist and become succesful and travel around..A baby can't fit into that plan, not yet."

Understandable. Tsukishima understood what she meant, for he too had a plan of what he wanted to do in the future. Work in a museum, it was something that he loved the idea of ever since he was a kid. She wanted to become something bigger, so of course a baby would only get in the way.

She cleared her throat and fiddled her hands. "I do, however, want to give it a chance of being able to live. For him or her to find out what joys life can gift to you and how wonderful the world can be..So i'm going to give them up for adop-"

"I'll raise them"

What.

The girl's eyes widened and she looked at Tsukishima in shock.

Tsukishima pushed himself off of the wall and looked at her for a second before taking a step closer to her. "I'll take responsibility and raise them."

What was he saying?

The girl blinked in surprise, her mouth slightly agape from the sudden response one that she had not expected in a million years. Tsukishima's eyebrows were slightly knitted, something which showed he was dear serious over this. "..please"

Why was he saying this?

The girl snapped out of her daze and ran her fingers through her hair, her other hand cupping her still flat stomach. "I-..Wh- Tsukishima..are you serious?" She asked in disbelieve, still taken aback from the reaction. "With all due respect, Tsukishima, but i really hope you understand i am not planning on raising this baby alongside you nor am i planning to hop in at a later age. I just-"

"I don't care for that. You won't have to be involved in any way, i'll make my own money, buy my own two bedroom apartment, raise my own kid. I'll work it out, if you want i'll cover half of all your medical bills" Tsukishima said while leaning back again, looking at her with his usual stoic expression again. Yet, his golden brown eyes held a mixture of confusion and fear. But that was something she would never be able to catch onto.

God what the fuck was he saying

The girl sighed and shook her head a little, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. "I mean..Medical bills won't be a problem, my family's wealthy enough to be able to cover that without a problem..I just..I thought you were passionate about this college course and wanting to succeed? Its not some kind of puppy you raise, can leave at home for the day and to come back at the end of the day and feed it and sometimes throw a stick around, Tsuki-"

"Do i look like an idiot to you?" Tsukishima said with narrowed eyebrows, tapping his finger on his other arm impatiently. Surely, he fooled around with her, but Tsukishima couldn't stand the way she thought she was better and smarter than him.

The girl rolled her eyes and sighed. "You know what i mean" She snapped back. "Its gonna be a big responsibility, its gonna get in the way of you making it big out there."

Once again, a silence fell over the dorm.

Tsukishima's thoughts were screaming at him. Telling him this decision was an impulsive one, how he had to think it through first and asking him over and over again what he was thinking. He knitted his eyebrows together and stared at the ground, slowly nodding.

"I know what i'm doing"

No he did not

The girl nodded and shrugged, her eyes glancing to the clock hanging on his wall. She looked back at Tsukishima and hummed, pushing herself off of the desk. "Well, okay then. I've got class in ten minutes, we'll discuss the details later on. Take care" She said, pushing herself off of the desk. Her hand reached out for Tsukishima's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, something which made Tsukishima just the slightest bit uncomfortable.

He didn't even say anything, simply too caught up with the sea of a void that suddenly washed over him. It numbed all of his thoughts, all of his surroundings as the thumping of his own heartbeat echoed in his ear.

The click of his dorm room falling back into its lock flew past him, not even having noticed the girl had left. Tsukishima stood there for about 10 minutes until he was pulled back to the surface, something which made him fall back onto his bed. He put his elbows on his knees, his hands raking through his hair as he looked at his ground with slightly panicked eyes.

He let out a long sigh, his hand running over his face as he threw his head back and leaned it against the wall. It was already dark, the only people outside being the ones going to their night classes. It was cold, after all it was October and the weather hadn't been exactly the nicest out.

Tsukishima glanced out of his window, his eyes following the form of the girl who was just left his dorm and was now running outside to arrive at her class in time. His eyes were locked onto her until she had turned a corner, now out of sight.

What did he just agree to?

He let his eyes slowly slide down from his window to his bed, a place where his phone was resting. Without really thinking about it, he reached out for the phone, pressing a few buttons before bringing it up to his ear.

"..Tadashi? I..i fucked up"

Nine months felt a lot longer than it usually did. While a school year usually felt like it flew by rather quickly to Tsukishima, these past few months felt like as if there was a chain with a heavy ball chained to his ankles. Every minute, every second felt like it took forever.

As the trees lost their leaves, the snow covered the ground. As the snow melted away, the flowers started blooming again. As the flowers grew higher, the temperature did too. With every transmission, Tsukishima's feet grew heavier and heavier. It all lead up to that one moment. One moment that would change his life forever, a moment he'd remember till' the day he'd die.

As the seconds ticked by, they turned into minutes. As the small hand of the clock moved forward made a full circle, the hours started moving by. Slow, very slowly. Tsukishima lost sense of time, sitting in that chair waiting for someone to give him a sign and to inform him of the slightest bit of news. Anything.

His thoughts even stopped at some point. Surely he was panicking internally and the fact that his phone kept buzzing in his pocket, his family and Yamaguchi repeatedly asking him how it was going, didn't make it any better. Hell, the fact Yamaguchi managed to leak the information to his old teammates didn't soothen the buzz in his pockets at all. But he just stared at a wall.

The ticking of the clock, the water that dripped from the tap, the foot steps from the nurses, the distant screams of agony and the phone that rang every 15 minutes in the nurses office started to feel like a pattern. A never ending pattern that had repeated itself almost a million times already.

"Mr. Tsukishima?"

Fuck

Tsukishima's head snapped up and his eyes met the one of an older woman who was wearing a long blue cover up and a mask hanging next to the side of her head. She wore a smile on her face, a tired one, but a happy one. She had discarded the gloves she wore and Tsukishima noticed some light blood smears on the gown she was wearing.

"He's here"

He

In the past 9 months that had passed, Tsukishima had never thought that his feet could feel more heavier. But in that moment it felt as if Medusa herself had locked eyes with him and stared into his golden brown eyes, drinking in his beauty before stiffening his body and turning it into stone.

He didn't notice how his lanky long body had gotten up from the chair he had been sitting at for the past few hours and how he was now silently walking behind the doctor, following in her footsteps as she lead him to a room.

"The mother told me to inform you she didn't want to see your son and that she'd appreciate it if you stayed away for a little while" The nurse said while holding the door for him open.

His son

Tsukishima looked around the room, noticing how extremely empty and silent it was. The beds that were there were empty, waiting for a new patient to arrive. The blind were closed, but it let the slightest bit of light through cascading down onto to the little bin standing in the middle of it, surrounded by two other nurses that were busy with what was inside of it.

The two nurses looked up at him and smiled, one of them walking towards the exit of the room while the other reached out for the bundle of blankets inside of the little bed. She picked it up, stepping towards Tsukishima with a very kind small. One he didn't notice, for his eyes were only focused on the very small baby she held in her hands. "Meet your son" She said while holding the baby out for him, adjusting his hands just slightly so he'd make the baby feel comfortable.

He held out his hands, taking the bundle of blankets into his arms and immediately holding him close to his body. Tsukishima made sure to support his head, remembering all the things he read in a book his mother gifted him after having announced the news. He wouldn't dare to cause the baby any discomfort, it felt as if he was made out of the thinnest porcelain in the world.

"We'll give you a moment, we'll be next door if u need us" Tsukishima heard the older nurse say before the door shut behind her, leaving both him and his son alone in the room.

The baby slightly moved around in his blanket, one of his tiny arms poking through and stretching out towards Tsukishima's face before returning back into the comfort of his warm cocoon. A small yawn left the baby's mouth, a sight that made Tsukishima's eyes soften.

"Someone's pretty tired, huh? Nine months of sleep ain't enough for you, buddy?" He whispered, peering into the little eyes that were slowly opening up revealing a very familar pair of golden brown ones although his appeared to be just a bit more darker. It also didn't Tsukishima long before he noticed the dark blonde hairs poking out of his hat, ones that almost matched his own but just being a shade darker than his own.

He grinned and stroked the baby's cheek, taking in every detail of his face. "Aren't you just a sight for sore eyes, like i'm looking into a mirror." Tsukishima said with a short snicker.

In that very moment, Tsukishima felt his feet get lighter. The heavy chain on his feet he carried around for months that got heavier and heavier broke, just by the single stare the boy had on him. He didn't care anymore, about what he was gonna do in the future. He didn't care about if he'd still be able to finish college or if he was gonna be able to pull through.

Every thing he did, was gonna be for him. Every decision he made, was gonna be with him in the back of his mind. Every thing decent nice thing he did, he did hoping he could be somewhat proud of his old man.

And so, from 7 years from that moment, on Tsukishima was going to have a succesful career. One he had achieved after graduating from college, something he couldn't of have done without the motivation he had after his son was born and he was going to make sure his son was always first with whatever he did.

"Welcome to the world, Kaoru"