#today his ex tomorrow the new girl in london

[louiseyesinsky]

Last thing, less than a week he started to "not disappear"

[aajjks]

nooo he doesn’t love her anymore. he can’t hurt jojo 😭

TPOL!JK

“yes, i promise” ji-ae weakly says and she makes an appointment to schedule her treatments as promised so she’ll be at 100% in london. as the four months pass, the family book their flight to london and jaemin does great for his first plane ride but he doesn’t cry every now and then.

“happy birthday jaemin!!!” they say once they touch down in the city.

“ayyyeee go y/nn!!!!” jorja cheers as the two of you dance on the floor together. no, jorja still hasn’t confessed her feelings but she’s hoping to do so tomorrow since you’re off and you both decided to get coffee together.

after the fun escapades, you both head back to your shared flat and rest for another fun day spent together. the day where jorja will finally confess her love for you.

she knows you’ve sworn off love but her feelings for you brewed out of nowhere. the need to make sure you’re okay runs through her mind and she loves taking care of you. you both share your deepest, darkest secrets, cry to one another, share the best laughs together.

when the morning arises, it is you who wakes jorja up to remind her about the rendezvous for some much needed coffee and girl talk. you’re wearing a simple top with bikers and platform shoes while jorja is wearing a medium length dress with platforms as well.

you both look really cute and it wouldn’t be a real rendezvous without a photoshoot for the gram. you both take cute pictures, silly pictures, and weird pictures together before heading to the best coffee shop in london.

you order a yummy sugar cookie coffee and blueberry muffin while jorja keeps it simple with a hot caramel macchiato and avocado toast.

the conversation goes like this:

“wait, for real?”

“hahahahah, you’re an idiot”

“ewww hahaha”

“*GASP* I KNEW IT!!!!”

“hahahahahahahaha, i-i can’t breatheeee stopppp”

talk about best friends.

you both laugh at the most stupidest things but that’s what makes you both the bestest of friends and since you’re in such a good mood, jorja decides to ask the question. not before admiring your pretty smile and pig-like laughter first. yes, pig because when you laugh hard enough, you snort like one and it’s the cutest thing ever.

“y/n? can i…i have to tell you something”

“what’s wrong?”

“you know i’ll always be here for you no matter what and i know you’ve sworn off love but—“

before jorja can finish, she’s caught off guard by a certain someone walking through the door of the coffee shop.

a certain familiar someone.

“jorja? is everything okay?”

“y-yeah. sorry. thought i saw something”

“saw what?”

“DON’T TURN AROUND. sorry, sorry. just, don’t turn okay?”

“uhhh, o-okay?”

you think it’s an ex of hers when really, it’s yours.

It is a surprisingly nice weather in London. Today specifically. And his son‘s birthday is just around the corner. He booked the flight a week before the actual event because he just really wanted to spend some quality time with his mother and she could explore London.

He actually loves the vibe of London. He thinks he could move here with his mother and son. But understanding the British accent is the hardest part about being in London.

So as jungkook enters the nearest coffee shop, it’s all really new for him, but soon he goes to the counter to order something for him and his mom.

“Umm hello?” he clears his throat, despite traveling the world, he still gets nervous around foreigners. “Umm I would like an espresso and one Americano if that’s possible?”

As soon as he gets confirmation for his order, he’s asked to sit at the nearest table, and Jungkook obliges, the wooden tables are quite cute, as he notices.

And he has nothing to do, but to just look around so he starts to do that, sound of peoples laughter and random conversation hits his ears, and he wishes that he brought his earphones with him.

“Ah boring.” Jungkook mummers to himself. maybe I should get a muffin for Jaemin..” maybe that’s a good idea- so he looks around but he’s actually surprised when he spots jorja.

And he’s not actually upset to see her. If anything, he’s actually happy to see someone familiar in a foreign country but then he notices someone sitting with her. It’s another female, but he cannot see her face because Her back is facing him.

And he makes eye contact with jorja, and Jungkook waves at her. “Hey jorja!!! How are you doing and what are you doing in London?” He calls out, taking her attention.

And the female also turns around and he loses his breath once he sees who that female is.

It’s you.

[gucciwins]

an ex brings stories and mistrust

Word count: 3440

A/N: you asked for angst for some reason so here it is. i am so happy to know you still love bel and harry as much as i do. 🤍

Warnings: angst, jealousy, ex-boyfriend

read love on tour series 

“I’m going out tonight,” you tell Harry as you steal a sip of his coffee. You love the smell but can never find yourself enjoying a full cup.

“Done being a homebody,” he teases.

You roll your eyes; after being home in London for a few days, you’ve been enjoying staying in your house but also at Harry’s. It was larger than yours, yet it felt cozy because he was here.

“Haha, a few friends are in the city and want to grab dinner, maybe karaoke,” you share, “what we do after is still up in the air.”

“You can always sing one of mine,” as he takes a blueberry out of her hand.

“Mhm…too bad I already have my song.”

“It’s a classic. You sing ‘you’re so vain’ perfectly every time. Always leaves me in awe.”

You feel your face warm up at his compliments. There had been a lot of begging for him to get you to sing in front of his friends one night. It helped. Most of them were a few tequila shots in. Although it is something Mitch brings every time you see him suggesting new songs, you should try to karaoke for them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, H.”

Harry frowns, wanting to spend more time with you this morning, but he knows you have a fitting for a red carpet. You’re working with an upcoming designer Sarai told you about,  a Hispanic designer with beautiful looks incorporating designs from their culture. You just had to work with them; of course, they were happy to agree.

“Send me photos, please,” he mutters against your lips.

“Promise.”

You go to pull away, but Harry holds your waist, deepening the kiss wanting to give you something that would hopefully want to make you stay home, although he knew it was a losing battle. You pull away breathless, a smile breaking out as you see Harry’s puffy pink lips.

“I love you, H.”

“Te amo, Bel.”

_____

There was no studio today, and Harry decided to use the day to catch up on reading a few books Bel had recommended he got two chapters in when he was inspired to grab his journal to write these lyrics before they escaped him. Harry wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt his phone ring, he dropped his pen thinking it was Bel but to his surprise saw it was Naomi, your best friend.

“Hi Naomi,” he greets.

“Hiya H, where’s our girl? She’s ignoring my calls,” Naomi asks, straight to the point.

“She had a fitting and was going out tonight.”

“Did she? Say with who?”

“Oh, friends in the city. Don’t think she gave me any names.”

Harry peeked at the time on his phone and saw it was close to six pm. The day honestly had gotten away from him. He would need to cook himself dinner.

“Heard Dylan was in the city.” Harry frowns, hearing Sarai whisper to Naomi.

“Who?”

“Dylan O'Brien,” Naomi tells him, “a good friend.”

“Who’s still in love with her,” Sarai inputs.

Harry hears Naomi shush Sarai,” sorry they’ve been drinking.”

“Why would Dylan be in love with Bel?” Harry had never been more confused. He knew you saw Dylan as a good friend; you would go as far as saying he was one of your closest friends in the industry.

Naomi sighed, knowing they messed up.

“It’s not–shit. H, you have to understand this was years ago.”

“What was?”

“Dylan and Bel dated,” she confesses.

And Harry feels his heart drop.

How did he not know this? How could you not share this information with him?

“Listen, it was after their first film together. It was never made public and is something she really doesn’t share. She broke up with Dylan because he was ready to get serious and take it to the next step, and she felt she wasn’t there. He was heartbroken after, but he was always supporting her.”

“He didn’t want to break up, did he?”

Naomi sighed, “no, he fought her on it, but she was set on her decision.”

“Did she love him?”

Silence.

“Naomi, please!”

“Of course she did. But it’s different, H. You have to believe me. She loves you. I’ve never seen her this happy or in love, and I’ve known her all her life. You make her shine. She’s one hundred percent herself when she’s with you.”

Naomi sharing this brings him a bit of comfort, but he’s left with the question of why you hadn’t told him Dylan was an ex. He was sure there were no secrets between each other, but now he wasn’t so sure. Harry shared about his past heartbreaks and his hand in breaking hearts. You had shared little, telling him that you had two serious relationships that were not worth talking about because you had all wanted something different.

“I don’t get why she wouldn’t tell me.”

“She doesn’t dwindle in the past. Think she’s lived there long enough.”

Harry sighs because he understands, in a way, he doesn’t know what it is like to be alone for years or not to have a loved one to seek out for comfort to share childhood memories with, but he has been faced with loss and knows how hard it can be. He does not understand why she’d keep her relationship with Dylan a secret. It’s as if there was something more she wasn’t telling him.

“I’m going to ask her about it,” Harry tells Naomi.

He hears her sigh, “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

“Bye, Naomi.”

“Harry, please be kind. I know this isn’t the easiest way to find something out, but don’t react when you’re speaking with her,”

He sighs, knowing she’s right. Harry doesn’t know what would have happened if he found out through you, but for now, he had to feel his emotions, and he’d talk about this news when you came home to him tonight.

“Of course.”

The phone drops against the cushion on his couch. There’s too much on his mind for him to rest in peace. Harry decides to meditate as the best way to work through his clouded mind. It works for some time until he feels the urge to check his phone, so he leans across where he let it fall, his eyes bugging out to see how late it had turned and you had yet to turn up. He didn’t mean to bother you when you were out, but he was concerned because, for the past few days, you’ve been coming home to him.

He sighs in relief when he hears your cheery voice after the second ring.

“Hi baby,” he breathes out. “Are you coming back here tonight?”

You sigh, coming out low. “Sorry, H. We came back to my place with some friends. You’re welcome to come,” you offer, feeling bad about making him wait for you when you could have texted him earlier in the evening.

“Hurry back. We’re going to lose,” Harry hears Dylan call for you.

Harry tenses, forgetting that you had even asked him a question. “H?”

“No, uh, early morning tomorrow,” he lies.

“Lunch tomorrow, then?” You counter. “Vinny’s?”

“I’ll be at our table,” he promises.

Harry heads to bed with a heavy heart but is thankful he will see you tomorrow.

____

He had arrived early, wanting to have your food ready for when you arrived. You always loved eating the same meal here, the ravioli with butternut squash filling. It was good, and Harry always ended up stealing a bit or two from you when you claimed he needed to try it.

As he waited for you, he was trying to decide how to approach the topic or wondered if Naomi had already sent her a warning. A few minutes later, a large commotion in front of the restaurant caught his attention. There are people gathered around, and he catches a glimpse of your face making him quick to leave his seat and go help you with the crowd. To his surprise, Dylan helped part the crowd and guided you inside with a hand on the small of your back. The group stayed outside as Harry watched you turn to hug Dylan in gratitude. You stood there speaking with him before Dylan shook his head, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. Harry was confused. You showed up with him, and even more that you managed to catch the attention of a crowd.

“Hey,” you greet him with a breathless grin.

“You alright?” He checks in.

“Saw that,” you breathe out. “It was fine. Dylan was there to help.”

Harry hums in response, trying to think what he wants to say.

“Did you order?”

“Should be here in a few minutes.”

You drop the menu, flashing him a huge smile. “You’re an angel, H.”

He sits silently, letting you start to tell him about your day when he interrupts your story about Sally burning pancakes last night. “Why did you show up with Dylan?”

You frown, leaning back a bit as he surprised you with the sudden question. “He stayed the night, and I had let Emerson borrow my car for the day, and I had forgotten, and he offered.”

“You stayed with him alone!” Harry exclaims.

“No, Sally, Nina, Saoirse, Tom, and even Sarah stopped by last night for game night.”

Harry huffs, “you could have called me.”

You grimace, “he was heading this way, and you had a meeting this morning.”

“And the paparazzi just so happened to know you were headed here.”

You frown, not liking what he was insinuating. “H, what are you saying?”

He shrugs, taking a drink of his water.

“Do you think Dylan called the paparazzi?” You sound surprised he’d accuse your friend of this.

“We’ve eaten here how many times?” He reminds you, not once have you had a run-in with paparazzi. “Funny he offers you a ride, and you’re conveniently papped together.”

You sit back in your seat, not sure what he meant. He’s been papped out from time to time, sometimes with you and sometimes when he’s out with other friends. There’s this world you live in, and how easy it is to get lost in your own world behind closed doors. Forgetting that others around you will do anything to get a glimpse inside.

“Harry, come on.”

He shakes his head, “forget it.”

After that, lunch is tense, little to no conversation is had, no matter how much you try. He checks his phone more often, making you fall silent. It’s the quietest meal you’ve had, and it makes you upset not knowing what you did wrong. Harry finished his meal before you but didn’t rush you. Not feeling comfortable continuing to eat, you decide you’re finished placing your napkin on top and offering him a small smile. He asks for the check, and soon you’re off, following Harry to his car, wondering if he’s going to take you home or back to his place.

You don’t dare ask.

It’s not until he takes a left turn instead of a right do you sit back in relief, knowing he still wants you around. Even if it is only to sit in silence.

He parks the car. You sit there together in silence, not sure where you stand. You reach out to squeeze his hand to comfort you and let out a breath of relief when he lets you.

“Come on, I’ll make us some tea.”

You’re not sure what conversation awaits you inside, but it’s Harry, and you know together, you can work through anything.

______

Harry is quiet as he lets the kettle warm up. You set your bag on the couch before following after him. You can see he’s tense as he grabs two mugs from the cabinets.

“Need any help?” You offer itching to do something.

“I got it.”

You sit there waiting patiently because you know Harry will bring it up soon. He can only hold something in for so long before he pops, and you know you won’t have to wait long.

Harry pours a cup of chamomile tea into a floral mug you painted when you did a ceramics class together during the holidays. It was his favorite, which is why it resided in his home and not yours.

“I know,” he whispers, breaking the silence you were in.

You stare at him, confused, unsure of what he is referring to. He knows what?

“Sorry, H? I don't know what you mean.”

Harry pushes away his mug before turning to look at you. His eyes look lost and hurt, and you want to fix that; you’re just not sure you know how to.

His frown deepens, “I know—I know about him.”

Harry says him with so much distaste that you’re not sure what he’s referring to. “H,”

“Dylan—that you dated Dylan,” he breathes out, and your face falls in surprise. Harry takes in your reaction and knows Naomi wasn’t lying that you dated Dylan and didn’t bother to tell Harry he was an ex, only claiming he was a close friend.

“Harry,” you whisper, hoping he’ll let you explain.

“You told me he was a friend.”

“He is.”

Harry scoffs, “you can’t be friends with your ex, not when they’re still in love with you.”

You can’t believe he would say throw that in your face when he’s notorious for being friendly with his exes and having them out for shows. Instead of arguing, you allow yourself to take a deep breath and remain seated, hoping he’ll let you explain.

“Can I tell you about this past relationship, so you’re not only running on what you’ve heard?”

“Are you insinuating your friends are lying?” He bites back.

Naomi and Sarai are the only ones that know, besides a few close friends of his. You’re not upset with them. It must have been an accident. You don’t even want to know, but you want to talk this out with Harry.

“Dylan worked on my first movie with me, and I was so scared. He was nice and had a few movies and shows under his belt already. Our chemistry read had gone well, and it’s how I booked the role, but he was my friend first. Nothing happened during filming. I would have never allowed for that to happen on my first Hollywood movie.” You pause because you hadn’t thought back to that time in years when you were full of nerves and not sure how people would accept you as a lead, especially next to an already well-loved actor with a growing fan base by the day. Dylan was a friend, and it wasn’t until after filming wrapped did he ask you on a date. It was complicated, but Harry deserved the truth.

“We wrapped and went our separate ways. He called to check in, and we got to talking. He asked me on a date, and I accepted. He understood how I didn’t want this to be on every magazine when I was growing my name, and he was the star of Teen Wolf. It would have labeled me his girlfriend before I could make a name for myself.” You watch Harry. No emotions cross his face as he listens to you. “We dated close to a year when he wanted to go public and be my date to red carpets. I liked what we had; it was intimate and private, no need to give ourselves away to the public. It’s when we stopped seeing eye to eye. By the time our movie was set to release, we had broken up. Press interviews were hard, but we made it through. Dylan promised he’d be my friend, and he has been.”

Harry stares at you, and you have no idea what he’s thinking. You know you made a mistake by never sharing about Dylan or your other ex, but it’s trivial. The exes in your life didn’t define you and felt pointless to talk about when your last relationship was years before Harry.

“You broke his heart?” Is the first thing Harry asks.

You shrug, “we wanted different things. We were both so young.”

“Did anything ever happen after you broke up?” You freeze, and Harry picks up on your hesitation. “What happened?”

“He was going through a breakup, and I was in New York at the time. I reached out and offered my support. We ordered takeout and talked about how he was doing. One thing led to another,” you run a hand through your hair, feeling overwhelmed. “We agreed it meant nothing.”

Harry couldn’t believe how deep your relationship ran with him. How, even years later, you sought each other out. There’s one question that plagues his mind. “Did he know your family?”

You frown, of course he did, and the confirmation you know will hurt Harry in a way you never wanted. “He met them when I brought my grandparents to tour set on the first film.”

Harry’s face crumbles right in front of you. “He has a part of you I’ll never have,” Harry confesses.

You feel a bit of your heartbreak because you know your family would have loved Harry. Your Abuelo would have dragged him into the kitchen to help, and your Abuela would have taught him all her favorite songs until he could play them back for her.

“I know, I know. You think I don’t know that.” You don’t want to cry. You can’t. “You think I don’t think about it constantly how my family would have loved you, and I never got the chance to introduce them to you. I won’t get to introduce them to anyone important to me, and it kills me, Harry. That’s a pain I carry every day.”

There’s a crack in Harry’s anger, and you know he wants to reach out to hug you, but he stops himself. There’s so much left to say; instead, he lets his anger control him.

“You’ve called him in front of me!” He accuses thinking of the time during tour you sat and congratulated him on his recent film.

“He’s a friend. That’s all he has been for years.” You’re going in circles. It’s like Harry won’t hear a word you’re saying.

Harry scoffs, “not when you’re both single, it seems.”

You shake your head, “you don’t get to be mad about this. It was all before you!”

“Who’s to say he won’t come running when you break my heart, and you’re searching for comfort,” he throws at you knowing the words would hurt, and they do, making cracks in your heart that had never been there before.

“I don’t want to break your heart, Harry,” you soften your voice, pleading for him to listen to you. “I love you. You’re it for me.”

“Then why did you keep him a secret!” Harry screams. “If you loved me, you would have told me. I thought I knew everything about you.” He shakes his head, no longer able to look at you. “It’s clear you don’t trust me.”

“But I do,” your voice cracks as you fail to contain your tears.

“You don’t not as much as I thought you did. I told you about my exes and how I hurt them but also how they hurt me. You know how hard that conversation was for me.” Harry’s eyes are stormy. It’s a look you don’t recognize, and you know you put that dark look there. “I want to be alone.”

“H,” your voice wobbles.

“You need to leave. I want to be alone.”

Instantly you feel your walls rise. You’ve been in this situation before.

“Harry, if you tell me to leave, I won’t be coming back. We’ve had a similar conversation just like this.”

You see Harry freeze taking in your words. “I love you, Bel. I do,” his voice breaks. “I don’t want you to leave me, but I want to be alone. You hurt me, I know you didn’t mean to, but I need this time to process.”

You sigh, backing down. There’s no use in fighting. You walk out, taking out the key that rested next to your shark charm on your key set and placing it next to the empty pink vase missing the flowers you were supposed to pick together tomorrow at the farmer’s market. “Don’t think I deserve this or have your trust to keep it.”

And with that, you walk out the door, leaving your heart with him.

You hadn’t lost him, but it felt like you had.

don't worry there will be a part two...but i'll let you sit with this for now

taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-on-route-66 @myfavfanficsever @springholland @michellekstyles @harryismyfwend @japanchrry @lechairr @golden-hoax @itsmycorneroftheinternet @harryspirate @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thurhomish @thelovecayon @shawnieeboyy @dontworrysunflower @a-strange-familiar​ @caramello-styles​

[parkers-gal]

masterlist

requests | closed to complete current requests <3

last updated | aug 5th, 2021

do not repost my work anywhere !! respect this please. | fics are not ordered in any particular way. these headers are mine so pls don’t use/take them

tom holland

insomnia - reader can’t get to sleep; tom finds out why

driving in the rain - fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home

workouts and warmth - when all tom wants is some after-workout cuddles

from across the living room - announcing your engagement to your families

the one - you want to move out and get your own place as a couple, but tom doesn’t. nikki talks to him. 

anything for the twins - tom massages reader’s boobies during her period

moms, makeouts, and mishaps - nikki walks in during your makeout sesh

simple acts of intimacy - a fluffy 3.1k words worth of blurbs

silver surprises - the reader surprises tom at a premiere

twenty questions - questions ensue after tom & reader get stuck in an elevator

my gut - spinoff of twenty questions with claustrophobic!reader (tw/ anxiety + attacks)

stealth mode - tom & reader scaring each other

unicorns vs pegasuses - tom shuts the reader up by kissing them

a good story - tom meets reader at a meet & greet — friendships blossom to lovers

deal breaker - tom wants kids, but the reader does not

his lap - reader asks for help in overcoming an insecurity; tom misreads the situation

pool day - pool day w/ tom + the boys

hot - the reader picks a certain song that reminds her of tom - the boys go wild

grounded by rocks - tom talks about you in an interview for cherry

your hands - when all he wants is a simple head massage

late flights - in which tom takes too much time with the fans

nobody wanted to - where only one person makes it out alive

way more than 50 - the hollands trick the reader into thinking they did something they weren’t supposed to 

why [ pt ii ] - sweet cupcakes, and a not so sweet breakup

what looks suspicious - nikki doesn’t exactly approve of tom dating the reader

something sweet - reader drops off small gifts while tom’s on set

he remembers - when tom finds the letter

missed you - reuniting w/tom after four long months

soft gangsta - tom tries to dress edgy; the reader is unconvinced

the shoe game - reader & tom play the shoe game at their wedding

too much - when the reader has a rough time with work, tom comforts them

losing grip [ pt ii ] - a losing battle between the reader and a hereditary disease causes heartbreak

your captain america - protective!tom holland of young reader (age gap)

sexy genius - reader is a fan of (and meets) jake gyllenhaal

teddy bear cuddles - tom wears an oversized hoodie

nonsense - the boys think the reader is meddling with tom’s work

circles before yourself - rule #2 - osterfield!reader gets caught with tom

seventeen times - when the reader is having a hard time in lock down, tom tries to help (TW // depression)

pixie dust hair - tom assures insecure!reader that the pixie haircut looks good <3

a few more months - reader passes out during a run; tw // excessive exercising

tiktok au’s

body ody ody - tom gets a little jealous over a few social media comments 

sweats in the supermarket - getting tom hard when he wears sweats

put your records on - trying not to kiss each other first

mood killer - saying dirty things into tom’s ear

say it back - pranking tom by not saying ily back to him

two different ways - tom choking the reader to get two different reactions 

brutal - doing the “did you mean to post this?” trend on tom 

worst thirty minutes of my life - playing a drinking game with tom to see who gives into cuddles first

my girl’s cuddles - crawling into tom’s lap 

even - buying hot leggings & taping tom’s reaction 

goofball - a silly way to reveal reader’s pregnancy to tom 

end the debate - “i found out why my boobs are small” trend

slam the car door - doing the car door prank on tom 

water bottle wars - the boys ask you and tom questions about each other. wrong answers result in sprayed water 

get you back real good - you & the boys prank tom after watching a scary movie 

peachy - sighing / moaning in front of tom playing video games to get his reaction

my princess - tom does a tiktok where he guesses all your answers to everyday questions

dad!tom

needles and needs - when scarlet has to get shots, you realize she may not be the only one that needs comforting

all my girls - scarlet meets her baby sister for the first time (dad!tom)

everything i love about u - tom is afraid baby red might hate him for leaving home too much

a little extra help - stepdad!tom being the best dad to your daughter

through the tears - pregnant!reader goes into labour, and baby holland meets the family

first feed - tom watches you breastfeed for the first time

warmth from the love - baby holland’s first Christmas

first words - baby holland speaks for the first time

breaking the internet - when your pregnancy announcement crashes multiple apps/websites (pregnant!reader)

breaking the internet... again - when baby holland breaks the internet

boyfriends and brunch - when jade brings home her boyfriend (aged!up)

big sister + how are babies made - telling scarlet about the baby on the way (pregnant!reader)

too many kids - the reader’s dad has some commentary about the twins

mumma’s girl - tom gets jealous when scarlet isn’t a daddy’s girl

angels - a little skin to skin time with his best girl

family man - after a nasty breakup, tom finds out you had his child

cheesy uncles - telling paddy he’s going to be an uncle

ag!reader (more to come !!)

y’all really get nasty - tom and the fans discuss ag!reader’s songs

my favorite things - ag!reader performs in front of the mcu cast at the grammy’s

34 + 35 - the boys react to reader’s new song(s)

34 + 35 remix - the boys reacting to the remix

his remedy - the boys react to positions deluxe

neglected - AG!reader breaks up w tom because of their job; tom searches for answers

low-key wants him - reader talks about how much nonna (+ her fam) loves tom

see u soon - reader interacts with tom while on stage for the swt

a few spilled secrets - AG!reader performs on jimmy fallon’s show.. tom and her confess a few secrets

for the first time - when the reader breaks down crying while singing about her ex, tom is there to comfort her

dance with me, rain on me - reader has a hard time on set, tom to the rescue

every tomorrow - the first album release night after your breakup

here we go again - introducing tom (+ the boys) to your celebrity friends

condoms or safety nets - the boys react to AG!reader’s song “safety net”

we’re not engaged - AG!reader announcing to the world why they no longer have a fiance... (fluffy)

the late late show - AG!reader & tom do spill your guts or fill your guts

pain from pleasure - dad!tom goes through a birth simulator — controlled by the reader

never have i ever - tom & the reader play a game on the late late show

fluffy hair - ag!reader has a zoom interview with zach sang. tom makes an appearance

fighting off the haters - ag!reader and older!tom holland (age gap) attend an award show after going public

run your hands thru my hair - tom reacts to ag!reader’s song “my hair”

stick to acting - tom tries to make a beat for ag!reader

practically twins - reader meets sebastian & anthony at comic con

damn lucky - black!reader wears her hair naturally during an interview

what a piece - reader talks about tom related songs & tattoos

flip it - tom talks about reader in an interview

at the door - older!reader & tom fight off haters

a headcannon of ag!reader being a marvel cast member

a headcannon of tom & the reader attending the avengers endgame premiere

styles!reader (more to come !!)

bathroom kisses - makeout sessions with tom and styles!reader in the bathroom

yeah, he is - tom holland x styles!reader meet the styles family; protective older brother harry makes an appearance

unparalleled love - older brother harry styles makes a speech at reader’s wedding

grilled - date night for tom & styles!reader is a bit difficult with two kids; older brother!harry to the rescue

baby showers and brothers - dad!tom & styles!reader are going to be parents

potential boyfriend - tom has a crush on the reader when they first meet

ts!reader (more to come!!)

trust me - tom & the reader defend her after nikki doesn’t approve

your london boy - tom & co. + the world reacts to “london boy”

boy of my dreams - tom being proud of the reader for winning a grammy

rapper!tom

tom records your sounds during sex for his music (hc)

tom talks about you in an interview

concepts: one , two , three

professor!tom

my pretty girl - tom gets jealous when reader gets many valentines

other reader tropes

cherry - reader is a screenwriter for tom’s upcoming movie

no shouting - singer!reader needs some help after paparazzis are too much (based on a video of tom)

pregnancy belly - actress!reader has to wear a pregnancy belly for her role, and the boys tease tom about when it’ll be real

we march - actress!reader being a huge feminist

passions & pediatricians - pediatrician-to-be!reader meets tom

politics - reader’s granpa is joe biden (requested) and tom meets him

extra support - psychiatrist!reader helps tom on the set of cherry

you made it big - tom holland x actress!reader at the after party

partition - the boys react to famous!reader singing partition

senorita - singer!reader makes a music video with shawn, who’s tom’s new best friend

miniseries 

boomerang: one , two , three , four [completed]

peter parker

making amends

➢ enemies to lovers ; college!peter x super soldier!reader ; 30k words ; sorta slow burn

cheeky guy, favorite thighs - college!peter doing a tik tok challenge — between the reader’s thighs [tik tok au]

a little nicer - doing the prank on peter (”you could’ve been a little nicer to me today”)

start searching - first make out sessions with our best boy :)

hidden hickeys - the avengers think innocence of peter, until they’re proven wrong

the team - part two of hidden hickeys; reader meets the avengers

all of you - late night talks about your future with peter :’)

like you wouldn’t believe - reader tells mj about her & peter’s awesome sex

slip from my hands - roommate!peter comforts the reader after a nightmare

i’d wait for her - college!peter parker needs to come to terms with you and your boyfriend

shut up and kiss me - soft make out sessions with peter :)

all the good things in the world, and i get you - insecure!reader needs a little reassuring 

modern chivalry - peter being a gentleman on the subway

eggnog and mistletoe - peter helps you love the holidays

the force awakens? it sleeps - a little extra comfort & care from our favorite baby boyfriend 

a prince - wonder woman!reader meets spider-man (& avengers) in a mission

steve rogers fics - peter finds you reading fanfiction abt steve rogers

fanboy!peter

fanboys and bracelets - fanboy!peter parker goes to famous!singer!reader’s meet and greet

fanboys and phone numbers - fanboy!peter parker continuation 

showing around - fanboy!peter gets VIP access; some dancing ensues

stark!reader + avengers!reader

if you knew feelings - the avengers want you & peter to break up

sleeping - peter misinterprets a few important questions

the may to your ben - college!best friend!peter parker x stark!reader fluff

race ya - peter confesses his feelings for rogers!reader after a mission — on comms

frat bathrooms - stark!reader joins the avengers where she sees college!peter, the boy she slept with at a frat party

rainy days - reader doesn’t like rainy days, a certain wall-climber changes their mind

already got her - jealous!peter makes a public confession

flustered!peter

a nervous one - flustered!peter parker sees cheerleader!reader in her uniform

one day soon - flustered!peter parker x affectionate!reader

all better - flustered!peter parker does some lab flirting with reader

dad!peter + pregnant!reader

unplanned  [ part ii ] - reader gets pregnant... breaks up with peter to avoid it all

burrito wraps - reader worries that baby parker might be cold

a name to remember - latine!reader & peter give their girl a special name

you’re magic - a certain wall crawler hears two heartbeats

sgt. bucky barnes

first cuddles - bucky asks to cuddle for the first time

harry holland

golden light, the love of my life - the boys tease harry —on a live video— for being whipped

it won’t f^cking open - harry lends a helping hand

how much i - those three magical words are exchanged for the first time

cuddly koala moments - time the reader just needed harry’s warmth

anything for hands - the reader cuts harry’s hair on instagram live

your other best friend - the reader is sam’s new friend, but harry thinks they like tom instead

you’re my anchor - harry has an anxiety attack, but the reader knows what to do

what’s his [ pt ii ] - when everything thinks the reader should date tom instead, harry snaps

whipped fries - harry brags about the reader winning the pub quiz for them

tell me, show me - the reader makes harry flustered by playing w/the strings from his sweatpants

keep your cool - tom setting u up with his brother // nikki being wary

ag!reader

you’re such a dream to me — ag!reader writes r.e.m. about harry

harry styles

intoxicating - soft bubbles baths with long haired!harry 

frayed braids - reader braids long haired!harry’s hair

others:

harrison osterfield

not anymore - when harrison comes back from filming, he’s determed to win the reader’s heart

irreversible - when relationships fall apart, people fall apart. (infidelity)

circles before yourselves - rule #1  - harrison x osterfield!reader (sister) when brothers talk, bad things begin

think of her - harrison asks your family for their blessing [holland!sister]

steve harrington

together not never - steve discovers the reader is pregnant

[closhelby]

HER. - Thomas Shelby

Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut

Word Count: 2472

AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.

::::::

She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed. 

However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London. 

They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison. 

“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”. 

Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her. 

They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house. 

::::

The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat. 

“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.

Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind. 

They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him. 

“Good night?”

“Always.” Ada grumbled.

Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back? 

Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly. 

Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”

John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.

“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.    

“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.

The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.

Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.

Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away

“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.

“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”

“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”

Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”

At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”

She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.

The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.

The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.

“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.

“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”

Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today’s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.

...

The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.

Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.

“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside. 

“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”

He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”

He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen.  Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head. 

Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers. 

He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.

Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded. 

::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.  

Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity. 

“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand. 

“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked. 

“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied. 

“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her. 

“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both. 

“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her. 

“Y/n” Tommy warned. 

“Who are you?” Grace questioned. 

“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”

Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.” 

“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added. 

At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”

“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.

“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.

“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”

Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.

“I love you Tom,”

[p-redux]

PSA:

Yes, I know about the podcast where a disgruntled would be lady friend of Sam's bashes him.

When I first was alerted to it, I didn't bother paying attention to what she was posting on social media leading up to her podcast because I was busy in RL and hadn't had time. Besides, I already knew, like I've been saying since 2014, that Sam is a heterosexual man who dates multiple women, and is not ready to settle down. I don't see anything wrong with that. Meh. This is NOT news.

Then today, I got a ton of DMs on here and some on Twitter, and I got a couple of Anon Asks about it asking me what my opinion is. I literally worked a 10 hour day today and then had some RL stuff to do after. I'm exhausted.

But I finally plopped on the couch and listened to her podcast because people were SO insistent about it. I guess at this point, my followers are wondering why I haven't said anything, and are looking to me to post what I think of it. TBH, I'm SO tired, brain function is slowing down. I'll probably write something when I gather my thoughts and have some time, and some coffee.

But here is my off the cuff initial reaction. Besides anything to do with what happened or didn't happen between Sam and the woman who did the podcast, my MAIN focus while listening to it tonight was: that what she posted sunk the SamCait ship for the millionth time, the "Sam is gay" false narrative got debunked AGAIN, AND we inadvertently got full CONFIRMATION that Sam DID date Georgia Ellenwood (athlete at track meet) and Danielle Kling (girl already living in Hawaii), Gia (new girl he met in Los Angeles and took to Hawaii during quarantine), and that Sam was thinking of rekindling with an ex (Mackenzie Mauzy, pic of her at Comic Con post break up wearing the Barbour jacket he gave her, and I was asked not to post the pic) HAHAHA. Just like I told the fandom. I LOVE when my info gets CONFIRMED. And THAT is and will always be what gets me off in this fandom. The only thing that keeps me here (besides my friends, of course). Sorry if you expected something more lofty...

Bottom line: Sam's a heterosexual human man who is not ready to settle down with one woman. Alert the presses! Lord.

Sam saying to her "Let's get together the next time I'm in town" is not a promise of a date, it's not a promise of anything, it's literally a flashing neon sign meaning "let's leave things open ended," "maybe," "let's play it by ear." And anyone and everyone who has dated enough human males knows this. Did she not get the Man Code Manual? I thought everyone knew this. When a man wants to see you, he doesn't say things like that, he makes CONCRETE plans with you and FOLLOWS THROUGH with them.

PROTIP: an actor who slides into your DMs and says let's get together when we're in the same town, and then doesn't, isn't "ghosting" or "gaslighting" you, he's letting you know without being direct that "he's just not that into you," but doesn't want to hurt your feelings. It seems to me that when the podcast woman figured out that there were women Sam WAS actually into and DID see in person, she got pissed...and got even. It really is a slap in the face to Sam that he helped her with raising funds and she went and badmouthed him publicly. Petty, petty.

MORE PROTIPS: When a man is into you, he, *taps chin* makes the effort to SEE you in person. Simple as that. The fact that Sam didn't, should have been the one and only clue needed to "move on" and find a man who is into you and will want to spend time with you in person. No need to keep waiting around, continuing to DM with or interact with a man who won't SEE you. Me, forever and ever 'splainin the facts of life.

I'm sorry she feels hurt, but it's way over the top that she now has taken it upon herself to "warn" women about Sam. Helloooo, he's not Shia LaBeouf or Armie Hammer FFS. By ALL accounts, pretty much EVERYONE who gets to know Sam says what a nice guy he is, including the women who dated him. Even his ex Cody Kennedy's MOM, Jinx said she didn't have anything bad to say about him, and said he was a "gentleman," and Sam broke up with Cody because, according to what Jinx publicly confirmed on Instagram, "he went back to his old girlfriend in London." (Abbie Salt in 2015)...just like I said sources told me months prior. :-). Sam broke up with her daughter and Jinx said nothing but nice things about Sam.

Is Sam a saint...or Jamie Fraser? NOPE. But, he's not a bad dude, and especially in Hollywood, he's, what I would call, one of the good ones. It's unfortunate that his name is getting smeared over something like this. Her reaction is totally disproportionate to what he actually did. Date a true Hollywood douche and then come back and talk to me. That's not Sam. Sam giving a woman his ubiquitous line "let's get together for a wee dram when you're in town" and then flaking, or flirting in DMs, and not having it lead to anything more did not warrant the bad press she is giving him. But I guess his fans can take solace in the fact that people who actually know Sam know who he really is, and his good heart.

Anyhoo, Imma pour myself a second glass of wine and I'll write something tonight or tomorrow or actually...I don't think I will...I kind of already did. :-).

Pssst: "He's just not that into you." Deal with it.

[harryskalechips]

Illicit affairs Part two

A/N Hi here is part two!!! I’m sorry for it being so delayed I’ve been busy taking care of my new sick puppy. I hope you enjoy this one! Please show some love and send me your thoughts hahaha enjoy ❤︎

Y/N and Harry decide to end their affair and she thought it would be okay since her internship was ending. Too bad she was offered a permanent job and she took it. 

Tw: Cheating, smut

Thank you @harrysleftchelseaboot for letting me participate in your writing challenge! Here is my part two! Any new writers or readers please check out the masterlist! So many cool stories written from prompts!

here are my prompts:

“Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“Do you think soulmates are real?”

“I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.” 

“Your hands look so cold.”

Note: I do not condone cheating whatsoever! Please mind that this story is fictional! As much as it makes me sad to paint Harry as a cheater, it’s part of this storyline I thought of as I listened to Taylor’s album, Folklore.

Word count: 8.6k / Masterlist // Part 1

It’s been three months since Y/N accepted her job in marketing for Columbia Records. It wasn’t too bad. Matter of fact, it’s been the only thing that has been distracting her since her breakup last year. She got her own office and had a bit of privacy too. Luckily, she was no longer sorting papers on a tiny desk in the middle of the hallway nor was she on coffee runs every morning. The only thing that seemed to stick, however, was seeing Harry Styles. 

When Rose, Rob’s assistant called her three years ago about the internship Y/N was ecstatic. Not only was this an opportunity to go celebrity sightseeing every day but this company gave people like her great opportunities and a great recommendation too. There was no possible way that she could turn down Rob’s offer. She’s been dreaming of a career like this for years! 

What truly sucked about her job at the moment, however, was the pop star, her marketing team was taking care of. Over these past months, not only was he able to ignore her presence, he became a bit of an ass too! Maybe that’s not even the right word to use…. He was being petty! That’s what Y/N thinks. To be honest, during the countless meetings they had over these past months Y/N would drain him out.  As he spoke all she could do was repeat that word in her head as she mimicked his British accent. But can you blame her? They were together for a year and he constantly led her on. She fell in love with a married man who promised that he cared for her. She found herself compromising a lot of things in their relationship that she shouldn’t have needed too. Not only was she twisting her values for him, but she was also forced to take the second bits of him. 

On her birthday, he arrived late at night because he and his wife had an interview with Vogue. He bought her a necklace and made love to her a countless amount of times but the next morning... he was gone. 

there would be times, he wasn’t able to spend time with her since he was in London with his family. Yes, he video-called her and made sure to speak to her for a reasonable amount of time but he also went M.I.A for another two days. 

The last example she could think of at the top of her head was when everyone had a date at their company’s charity ball. She had to witness Harry and his wife put on a show for the cameras. He looked at his wife as if she was his star and touched her like he’s been doing it for years. The whole night, he had his arm wrapped around her, constantly keeping her close. The only problem is in reality he’s been acting like that with Y/N -not her. 

So yeah although she broke up with him -she was angry. Yes, she said they shouldn’t keep in touch but she thought she was leaving the company! Now, he’s acting as if he never spent a night at her place, fucking her. He’s been acting as if he never had a meal with her nor snuggled her on the couch. He’s cold and she hates him for that. Not only was this hurting her, but she also loved him! And for that...he’s cruel. She can’t even remember how many times she had to run to the washroom during work so she could cry in one of the stalls. Sometimes, she felt like he was purposely picking on her. Calling her out for her mistakes or for her lack of attention. She was new to everything and she was still learning. She just never thought the man she shared her bed and her secrets with would be so indifferent. That’s why she calls him petty.

“Y/N? I’m heading out. Want me to get you some food?” Marissa asks her as they sit in the boardroom with Harry. Their meeting ended a while ago but they decided to work through lunch since Mr. Celebrity wanted to fix a few things with them.

 “No, I’m alright.” She looks up from her paper as she replies. She notices Harry in front of her leaning on the table as he hunches over flipping through a few papers.

“Are you sure?” Her co-worker frowns as she leans across the doorway. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Marissa, buy her some food.” Harry interrupts Y/N before she can speak up. He stands a bit straighter as he reaches down to grab his wallet. He pulls out a black card and gives it to the girl. 

“Oh.” Marissa’s eyes widen as she stares at the card in her hand. “Would you like anything?”

“No, buy for yourself too. This one’s on me.” He nonchalantly replies as he goes back in his old position to read through the contracts.

 Marissa was confused if she was being honest. She worked for Harry’s marketing team ever since he started going solo. She loved working for him because he was outgoing and respectful but for the past few months, he seemed to be too serious and a bit pissier. Maybe it had to be because of his wife? Little did she know it was because of the girl who was sitting a few feet from him. 

When she left, Y/N choked. It wasn’t noticeable but she could feel her throat tightening. She has never been left in a room with him since their unbearable breakup. Funny enough, although the company celebrated her new job, Harry mindlessly ignored the event. He came to the party but he never congratulated her. So from that, Y/N knew he was far more than upset about their breakup. He was being salty.

“Y/N,” Harry speaks up as he walks towards her with the contracts in his hand. Y/N didn’t even want to look up. Was he speaking to her for the first time...again?

“Yeah?” She replies, trying not to make her wobbly voice sound apparent. 

“What do you mean about this part of the contract?” Harry coldly asks as he puts the paper in front of her face.

“I’m not sure. Marissa wrote the contract. I worked with Yvonne on your merch shop.” Y/N replies in a monotone manner. 

“How are you not sure? You didn’t even look at the paper.” She can almost hear a sigh under his breath. Y/N finally looks up and glares at him. She takes the sheet out of his hand and reads the new highlight from his pink pen. 

“I don’t know, Harry.” She gives it back to him and continues to work on her list without saying another word. She didn’t want to look up again because she could already feel his eyes staring at her. He somehow always loved to do it. “Stop looking at me.” She blurts out. She and Harry weren’t expecting her to say that. He awkwardly coughs as he runs his hand through his hair. He walks back to his usual spot in the room and pretends as if nothing happened. In reality, however, his heart was racing. Although he was so pissed at her, she looked pretty today.

~

“Have you ever been on a date before?” Marissa asks Y/N as they walk out of her office together. Y/N wasn’t going to lie. She’s pretty lucky that she became close friends with Marissa. Now, they have a routine of picking each other up from their offices. It made her feel a bit less lonely since she sees her ex every day and he gives her nothing but a cold treatment. It’s a bit ironic how a few months back, her heart would flutter when he visited the building. Now, she sees him a bit too often for their liking.

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and gives a funny look to her co-worker. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know you never talk about your love life. I always talk about my husband but I never heard anything coming from you. I know you like to have privacy but I was wondering.”

“It’s complicated.” She lets out a laugh. “I broke up with him two months ago.” 

“Who was he?” Marissa smiles as her mouth opens in shock.

“A liar.”

“What did he do?”

“All men are the sam-”

“Have a good night, ladies.” A voice interrupts them. The women stop walking as they catch sight of Rob and Harry looking at the contracts they were previously working on earlier in the day. They sat on one of the many couches with many papers sprawled out onto the coffee table.

“Gosh Rob, you gave us a fright!” Marissa laughs. “Sill looking at those papers? Call me tomorrow if anything needs changing.” Marissa rolls her eyes as she smiles at them.

“Don’t worry.” Rob laughs. “Mr. Styles here is just going through the contracts with me one more time. You girls go home.” 

“Alright, hope you and Harry have a good night too.” Y/N says nothing but waves as she follows Marissa to the elevator.

“Wait!” The familiar voice calls for them. Y/N and her co-worker turn around to see Harry still sitting on the couch looking at them. “Y/N, just because he lied to you. It doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.”

 ~

You would think that Y/N repaired herself and became more comfortable working with her ex after that last encounter with him…. But no, wrong. In fact, she was dreading going into work today. How does this man ignore her for two months and then suddenly, he’s acknowledging her presence?

“You know what I find funny?” Marissa blurts out. Their marketing team had a conference room for themselves apart from the other room they were in yesterday. Yvonne and Jasmine look at her, waiting for her to reply while Y/N slouched in her chair out of distress. “Harry’s been a total ass to you ever since you got a job here.” She wasn’t lying, the whole office knew Harry was extra hard on her. “It got me thinking… why did he say that to you yesterday?”

“What did he say?” Yvonne gives a confused look to Y/N. Y/N just closes her eyes and turns her chair away from her colleagues and instead, to the wall.

“He said something like oh just because your ex-boyfriend lied to you, it doesn’t mean he wanted to lose you.” Marissa mimics his deep British voice. “Who on earth says that! And you guys barely speak to each other? How could he possibly know about him?”

“Wait a minute. Is he like siding with Y/N’s ex?” Jasmine’s eyes widen at the thought. “If her boyfriend lied then it is his fault!”“

Right I-” Before Marissa can continue. Y/N turns her chair towards them again and interrupts their juicy gossip. 

“Guys!” Y/N calls them out. “It’s not a big problem. H-he has probably been in a relationship where he was in that position and he said that.” She tries to reason with her hands. “J-just let it go.”

 “Oh shit, I forgot. Your breakup is still fresh.” Marissa covers her mouth in pity. And this is a reason why Y/N will never talk about her love life again.

“Excuse me, girls.” Rob knocks on the door and lets himself in. “I need one of you to go with Harry tomorrow back to London for his interview.”

“Rob, why’d you let us know so late?” Yvonne complains. “I would go but my sister’s wedding is tomorrow!”

“I’m sorry hun, I thought he would just need someone from publicity but it seems like he also has a pop-up shop there opening soon.”

“I can’t.” Jasmine shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t even bother saying why. Y/N knew she had to say it before Marissa. She can’t imagine being on a whole ass trip with her ex. Yet somehow the girl beat her to it.

“I can’t go either. Sorry.” Marissa speaks up. She was planning something. It was obvious from the way her eyes connected with Y/N’s.

“Alright, Y/N please be ready by 4 A.M. Harry will have a driver sent to your place.” Rob looks at her and smiles. “This is going to be a great experience for you.” 

~

Coffee wasn’t going to cut it. Y/N barely got any sleep since she had to pack as soon as she got home. Apparently, they were staying for 5 days so this meant more torture for her. At 4 A.M on the dot, a black car picked her up in front of her building and drove her straight to the airport. There she saw Harry and Emily already sitting in the VIP lounge, laughing about something. 

“Good morning!” Emily says to Y/N as her eyes catch sight of hr entering. Emily was a nice woman from publicity. She’s been working in PR for over 25 years, making her a pro in handling any scenario. 

“Good morning.” Y/N smiles back as she pulls her hand carry with her to one of the seats.“Why are you sitting so far?” Emily laughs. Harry seemed to be too interested as he read something on his phone. “We don’t bite.”

“Oh no, I’m okay here. Thank you. I just have to stretch my legs.”

“Alright. Well now that you’re here to keep Harry some company, I’m going downstairs to get a bagel.” The old lady stands up and grabs her purse. She waves at them one more time before leaving the room.

Silence. 

Nothing but pure awkwardness and it was driving Y/N mad. She hated that this man was making her cry even though they were over. Maybe, she shouldn’t have stayed with the company.

“They have really good smoothies downstairs.” Harry blurts out, still looking at his screen. “I know you really like having one in the morning. Thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” Y/N was playing with her cuticles but gave him a quick glance. “I’m fine though.” Nothing but distant conversations can be heard as the ex-couple continued to act disinterested in one another.

This is the final call for flight BA111 to Thailand. 

What caught Y/N’s eye, however, was Harry reaching something into his back pocket. It made her have to speak up. “Putting on your ring again? Funny how no one seems to notice how hot and cold you are with it.” Harry scoffs as he stays frozen staring at her.

“None of your business.” He slides the ring on successfully and goes back into his old position.

A brief pause happens before Y/N decides to speak up -she was tired of his attitude. “You know what?” She glances around the empty room before whispering back at him. “I don’t understand what got your panties in such a twist. You need to stop being such a jerk to me!” Harry’s face shows no emotions as he listens to her. 

“You don’t know why? How about out of the blue your girlfriend breaks up with you.”

“It was destined to happen, Harry!” Y/N’s eyes widen at his response. “You’re marr-”

“They had so many bagels to choose from! I had to buy two since I couldn’t pick!” Emily walks in, all innocent. “You guys okay?”

“Perfect,” Harry mutters but it wasn’t. As they boarded his private plane, he watched Y/N walk in front of him, trying to wipe her tears.

~

The whole plane ride was quiet since he realized most of them had to catch some sleep but for some odd reason, he couldn’t. Harry’s bodyguard was at the very front row, snoozing off. Emily had her own chair and she crashed the moment the plane took off. He didn’t know if Y/N was awake but he hoped she was sleeping. When he saw her the first time this morning, she looked so drained out. 

Harry just didn’t know what to say nor what to think. His breakup caught him off guard and now he’s been in a bad mood ever since. Sometimes, he wondered if his divorce would make him feel this way and in all honesty, he knew it wouldn’t. 

There was something still tying him to that depressing marriage and he’s starting to think that maybe Y/N was correct. He was scared to be like his parents but that didn’t make him regret anything he said to her that night. He knew he would keep her a secret even if he was single again. The idea of reporters picking on her didn’t settle well with him. Just the thought made his stomach sick.

 So although he’s heartbroken, the only way he found himself coping was by picking on Y/N. Y’know the girl that broke his heart. He didn’t mean to but his first instinct was to ignore her until her internship ended -And that went well until Rob announced her permanent position in the company. He was mad at her for torturing him. He told himself that he would let her go because she wasn’t happy with him. So why the fuck does it feel like she’s teasing him. 

Every time he walks into those meetings, he can feel the tension between them. It makes his head go crazy as if he needs to beg on his knees so she can take him back. But like every love story, it’s just not that simple. It’s his pride and his reputation on the line. He needs a gap after his divorce before he can even go public with her. Oh, what is he thinking? No matter how much time he thinks can fix this, people will still attack them. He lost so many girlfriends because of his fame and he won’t let Y/N deal with it too. Especially, since she’s not a celebrity. She has no idea what this lifestyle can truly be like.

 ~

“London is quite… big.” Harry puts his shades on as he watches his bodyguard put the last luggage in the car. They were in a hidden corner outside of Heathrow Airport, Y/N and Emily stood next to him as they waited for his instructions. “You ladies can travel and explore the city. But, I was wondering if you would like to stay at my home this week. It will save you some money.”

“Oh no, Harry we don’t want to bo-” Emily speaks up.

“No, I insist. I had to bring you ladies along the last minute. Tom, you have my car ready right?” His bodyguard nods. “Perfect, you girls hop in with me and Tom will drive behind us.”

“Harry, your house is so beautiful.” Emily’s eyes shine as they step out of his car. 

“Thank you.” Harry smiles proudly as he glances at Y/N. “Let’s go inside so you can pick out your rooms.”

The house was gorgeous. Y/N wanted to tell him too but after their little fight at the airport today, she decided to keep her mouth shut. To be honest, there were so many things she wished she could tell him but he’s been acting so unapproachable. 

As they walked inside, the house smelled faintly like him, making Y/N forcefully hold in her breath a couple of times. How can this man barely be here yet the place smelled just like him.

“Oh, Harry…. You and your wife are very lucky to have this house. I love this rustic theme. It feels so homey.” Emily compliments him. “Y/N when you get married, make sure you take care of the decorating portion, so you can have something like this.”

 “Oh-” Y/N’s eyes widen as she hears Harry cough behind her. 

“My wife has actually never been here before. She’s not a fan of London.” Harry tries to say nonchalantly. In reality, however, both of their hearts were racing. Their brains synced up with one another as they thought about a distant memory.

 ~

It was a couple of months into their affair as they cuddled naked against each other in Y/N’s bedroom. The moonlight was shining right onto them as they both stared at random objects in her room, appreciating their intimacy. Harry’s hand comb her hair back while she let her fingers mindlessly trace his tattoos. Their breathing was in sync as they whispered sleepy thoughts to one another.

“What’s it like in London?” Y/N mumbles as her lips touch his chest while she speaks.

“It’s rainy,” Harry replies back. He scoots himself closer to the girl and kisses her forehead. “Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“I’ll bring you one day, I promise.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, I’ll bring you to all my favourite places and fuck you so hard in the hotel rooms.”

 “Why does that sound so appealing?” Y/N laughs as she looks up at him. “Can we go soon?”

“When I find out how to not get seen by the paparazzi, sure.”

“Does this mean we have to have all our meals in our hotel room?” Y/N pouts -because as much as Harry can request a secluded room, he’s still married and people will talk. 

“Baby, don’t make it sound depressing. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves a loophole.”

...

“You’ll try?” She pulls away immediately looking at him. “What do you mean? Have you not been trying to do that these past few months!” He rubs his face in frustration. 

“It’s hard Y/N. I told you countless times.”

“I know it’s hard but what’s stopping you from doing it! You told me that you don’t want to lose me but for some odd reason, it seems like you don’t want to lose her!”

“She was my first love Goddammit!” He finally yells back at her.

~

It’s been two days since their stay in London and Y/N was enjoying every minute of it. Although she had to give some of her hours to work, she couldn’t deny her excitement as she and Emily walked through the unknown streets.

Funny enough while they were eating at a small cafe for lunch, she ended up meeting a new guy. His name was Elliot and he came from New York to visit his family here in London. He was just having lunch with an old friend of his. He noticed her accent and decided to approach her table.

Although, Y/N thought he was cute - she wasn’t interested? It confused her because the moment he asked for her number, she thought of Harry. Which automatically made her say yes. She just doesn’t know if she’s ready for a new relationship but what’s the problem with trying?

“How was your day?” Harry watches the women come into his home as he sits on his couch watching TV. It was around 8 PM and he had nothing to do. His schedule this past year was made to be available for Y/N (excluding PR events)  and since they broke up, he never planned on changing them.

“Harry, oh we didn’t think you’d be home. You’re a celebrity! Shouldn’t you be out partying?” Emily laughs as she sits on the couch. She rests her bags on the floor as Y/N does the same. 

“Oh no. I’m not really into those. I don’t know it’s a nice Friday night to relax. Tomorrow, we have that interview in the morning so I wanted to sleep early.”

“What a smart boy! Well, Y/N and I did some shopping. London is so beautiful. I’m glad I’m here again. Actually, that reminds me! Y/N tell Harry what happened today!”

“Huh?” Y/N’s face pales as she looks at Emily. Her co-workers seemed to invade her love life without seeing a problem. The problem is, however, is that they don’t know what’s truly been happening. “Elliot.” Emily gives her a comforting smile.

“Oh, do you  know him?” Harry gives her a serious look as he turns down the TV. 

“No, he came up to us while we were having lunch.”

“He was so cute Harry! I hope they get together.” Emily squeals. “He’s from New York but I think he was truly interested in you Y/N. He was bold enough to ask for your number!”

“Did you give him your number?” Harry asks Y/N without looking at her. He was biting the inside of his cheek pretty hard trying to pretend as if he didn’t care at all. Suddenly he was too focused on watching the show on his TV.

“Yeah.”

“Cool”

And although Emily continued the conversation, Harry didn’t think it was cool at all.

~

Knock...knock…

Y/N hears the soft knocks on her door as she leaves her ensuite. A couple of hours ago the conversation in the living room ended leaving them to rest in separate rooms of the house. 

“Hey.” She catches herself off guard as she sees Harry in front of her when she opens the door. She glanced at his familiar outfit and for some odd reason, it made her feel good. He was wearing his sweatpants and an old band tee she used to wear when he stayed at her’s for a few nights.

 “I was wondering if we could uh talk.” He glances at the hallway he’s standing in. He was scared Emily would walk out of her room.

 “Oh yeah Sure. Come in.” Y/N opens her door a bit wider to let him in. Her luggage was messily opened in the corner of her room while her shopping bags stayed on the other side. She mindlessly hides her arms in her sweater and sits on the bed. “Funny how you want to talk but you’ve been ignoring me for 3 months.”

“Uh just thought it was a good time to talk to you since we’re not really at work and we’re not surrounded by people.” Y/N rolls her eyes. He had to be bullshitting her.

“Why are you here Harry? Are you thinking you can sleep with me tonight? That this is an opportunity?” Y/N gives a disgusted look as she watches Harry standing in front of her with his arms crossed. 

“What? No. Y/N… I just- Fuck.” He lets his arms out in disbelief. “ I don’t know why I’m here. I’ll leave.” He turns around but her voice calls him out. 

“No. Stay. You obviously have something to tell me.” He turns around and sighs. He sits beside her on the mattress and looks at his hands.

“I miss you.” He blurts out. Y/N rubs her eyes, not from tiredness but because she misses him too -so mainly from frustration. 

“You can’t say that.” 

“You told me to stay and tell you what I needed to tell you.”

“You didn’t need to tell me that.” Y/N pulls her hands from her face and sarcastically laughs at him. She knew she was still in love with him but she also knew their break up was for the right reason. Their affair was wrong. He didn’t know what he wanted and she knew too specifically what she needed.

“Well, you’re right.” He replies with a bit of an attitude. “I don’t know- just forget this ever happened.”

“Okay good, I’ll go back to texting Elliot.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders and reaches for her phone but before she knows it, Harry grabs her phone and unlocks it. It was still his birthday as her passcode and although that made him feel a bit better, he stood up to recite to her the stupid messages on her phone. 

He tries to hide his red cheeks as he scrolls through their text messages. “Did he just ask you what your favourite colour was?” Harry squints his eyes as he looks at her. He was carefully observing her reaction to his texts.  “That’s a stupid question.”

“I found it cute.” Y/N speaks over him. “Are you done looking at MY messages.”

“Bub, you actually think you’re going to get with this guy?” Harry looks away from the phone and looks at her. “He seems like a total wim-”

“Don’t call me bub Harry!” She interrupts him. “Especially, since you’ve been calling me stupid in front of all my colleagues at work during these past two months!” Y/N furrows her brows as she takes her phone back. She hates that he’s here right now. He’s acting like he wasn’t a total ass to her at her work.

“Shit Y/N.” That’s when he realized he fucked up. “Okay, I’m sorry about that.” He watches her as he combs his hair back. 

 “You can’t just come in here, say you miss me and look through my personal text messages. You pretended as if I didn’t exist these past few months and that hurt me!”

“Y/N, I’ve been hurting too!” Harry walks closer to her and shakes his head. “Don’t think our relationship meant nothing to me.” 

“Well, you sure as hell mastered the acting skill! Don’t try to manipulate me, Harry. You ignored me. You embarrassed me. You’ve been treating me like shit!”

“I needed to move on from you Y/N. I had to manipulate myself into thinking I was making the right choice. Our relationship was the only thing making me happy.”

“Do you have any proof of our relationship?” Y/N sarcastically replies as she closes her MacBook and places it on the nightstand. “You have all these pictures of you and your wife but everything about us is hidden.” Harry’s eyes widened. “I lie to my family. You come to my apartment taking the hidden roads and a thick cover-up. Do you think that makes me feel better? Knowing you’re not just hiding me but your affair from the public.”

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is wrong with you? What’s up with your obsession with us being public? Do you want fame or something?”

“How dare you?” Y/N stands up to meet his height. “Is that what you think of me? Using you for fame!”

“It sure damn seems like it.” Harry rolls his eyes as he walks forward to her, making them the closest they’ve been in for months. 

“Harry, I’m 23! Everyone I know makes it clear they’re in a relationship. Just because people know about us, it doesn’t mean I would publicize everything we do. I just need evidence that this relationship we have between us is real!”

“YN are you bloody kidding me right now. Of course, it’s real! What have we been doing these past years?”

“Messing around?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re married and for some goddamn reason you won’t leave her!”

“Even if I ended things with her, I would still keep you a secret Y/N. I don’t know what you want from me.” Harry calmly states as he closes his eyes. 

“There’s a difference in keeping me a secret and having our relationship known to the public but being very private.”

“I don’t know why this matters to you so much. You know I care about you and I want to be yours. Fuck -I was yours.” Harry wipes his eyes a bit. 

“You don’t know why it matters to me so much because you aren’t me. You don’t know how it feels to have the second bits of someone. You don't even understand how I feel -to be so in love with someone, only to know from the beginning they were never fully yours, to begin with.”

“You love me?” Harry chokes on his breath as he looks down at her. He obviously knew they had such a deep connection but he never thought about love when it came to them. You want to know why?

Love always makes everything complex and hurtful. He fell in love for the first time with his wife and look where it led him? In a broken marriage where he no longer had hope. He had wishes and dreams for the two of them and throughout the years, they all disappeared in a drought.

 Love is such a pleasing and attractive feeling that every human wants but why does it always end opposite for him? To be in love is different. You have to be vulnerable and Harry has never done that with Y/N. He doesn’t even know if he can do that again. He already fell in love and found someone who he would call his partner. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. That didn’t go as planned.

“Yes.” Y/N looks down but Harry’s hand rests on her chin to make her look at him again. 

“Why couldn’t you tell me sooner?” He was stalling. He was asking her questions so he wouldn’t have to explain his feelings for her. He was also trying to let her down slowly. 

“Last time I spoke to you, you told me you wouldn’t leave your wife because she was your first love.”

“Oh.”

“Is she your only?”

“My only what?”

“Your only love?”

Silence.

There’s your answer.

“For a husband to cheat on his wife, people would say you have a big ego but I don’t think so. Elliot isn’t the wimp Harry… you are.”

“It takes two to tango Y/N. Don’t just blame me.” Harry lets his hand fall. “I have rules I stand by when it comes to marriage and you know how much of a pain she is!”

“You told me you wanted to leave her but that never happened! I kept telling myself that our relationship was okay but why was it still killing me?” She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at him. “ Do you still love her?”

“No,” Harry answers immediately. 

“Why are you still holding onto her? Why can’t you see that she’s not making you happy and you need to get out of this marriage.”

“Because it’s marriage Y/N! I committed myself to her for my whole life!”

“You sure as hell weren’t committed last year!”

“You don’t understand because you aren’t married!” Harry finally screams the loudest. His face was red and it seemed like the blood vessel in his neck was about to burst.

“You’re telling me… you rather have me continue compromising my morals and keep this relationship hidden just so you can have the best of both worlds?” Y/N scoffs. “You’re stupid.”

“I know.”

“You can’t have everything. I know you’re famous and rich but you made the choice not to fight for me two months ago and now I’m choosing the same.” Y/N shakes her head and rests her back on the wall. She looks at him with disappointment in her eyes. “I don’t know why we keep having this same fight. We always go through the same topic and the same arguments. Although I’m fighting for what I need in a relationship, I’m also fighting for you to realize you’re better off without her.” 

“I guess you can say I’m a bit stubborn.” He speaks up in a soft voice trying to communicate with her in a more respectful tone. “It’s okay if you don’t want me again. I just needed to tell you I miss you. Ever since we broke up, I realized how much of an impact you made on me.” He repeats.

“Ok.”

“Do you miss me?” His mouth pouts as he watches her. “Have you ever?”

“Of course I did Harry. I loved you.”

“Wait a minute. You don’t love me anymore?” Harry was quite offended to hear that from her.

 “What? No… it’s complicated. I can’t describe it.”

“You either love me or you don’t.”

“I’m trying to move on. Why can’t you let me? You don’t seem to love me back anyway!”

Silence.

"Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do” He admits to her., letting his confession easily slip through his lips.

“Resisting you was harder yet I failed.”

-

After their conversation, Harry left Y/N’s room to get some sleep. Although he approached her with the main goal of receiving closure he realized that his true main reason was to win her back. Maybe it was because of this Elliot guy but Harry couldn't imagine her with someone else. It made him drown in jealousy and sadness -A feeling that his lover knew all too well. That night, he realized he couldn’t have what he wanted. He’s confused about his feelings and how he could win back Y/N. 

“Thank you for meeting with me.” Harry lays his head on his mum’s couch as she sits in front of him. Today was their last day in London since tomorrow morning they were going to the airport. Harry knew he had to visit his mum and ask for advice since he needed someone to talk to.

“You’re my son. Of course Harry. What are you saying?”

“I don’t know.” he closes his eyes as he explains everything to his mother. He began with the cold turn of his marriage and later on shared his affair with Y/N and how confused he’s feeling right now.

\\

“For god’s sake. I can’t believe you.” Anne expresses her disappointment. “Harry, I’m not proud of you cheating. I never thought you would do this. Now you-”

“I think I love Y/N.” Harry interrupts her as he rubs his hands on his thighs. Anne lets out a sigh but displays an understanding look.

“If you love her, you’d be willing to compromise and fix things to make her happy. She’s right you know? Why are you still tied up to that other woman if she barely acknowledges you? You never told me about this.”

“Because I don’t want you to worry mum.” He looks at her and rests his elbows on his thighs. “I thought the whole marriage thing would fade away since I’m barely in it. I just thought everything would slowly change and I’d be back to who I was before I became a husband. I was hurt when she became cold to me but I slowly just forgot about her and went on with my day. I was only seeing her 5 times a day and I was starting to be okay with that but whenever someone would ask me something about her or I’m at an event, I realize I’m married. I made promises that I barely kept.”

“She never kept them either.”

“I know. Our marriage was over years ago before we truly started. I just -I don’t want to have a divorce like you and dad. I know you might be offended but I cried my heart out when you told me and Gem you two were splitting up. I promised myself I would never do that.”

“You were 8 Harry. You didn’t understand how love and marriage were so complex. Your father and I just didn’t work but that doesn’t mean I can’t find another person and have that life I always imagined. Rob was that man for me. I think you’re thinking about everything a little bit too hard that you don’t even realize the girl you love is slipping through your fingertips.”

She’s right.

“I’m scared that she won’t be happy with me after I change everything for her. I’m scared she’ll be just like the other woman I married.”

“You can’t let that stop you. It’s unfair for the two of you. You need to fight for her. And don’t think I’m encouraging you and your cheating but I want you to be happy and if that’s with her. I’m okay with that.”

“I need to talk to her.”

~

It was around 6 PM by the time Harry came home. He barely parked his car into his garage as he entered the house. He noticed Emily was just about to leave.

“Harry! Our interview went great today.” Emily looks up after rummaging in her purse. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I-um have to pee?” Harry’s cheeks turn red as he leans on the railway and slowly climbs the stairs.

“Oh go then! My uber is here. I forgot to buy some treats for my kids.”

“Oh okay. Is uh Y/N here?” He bites his lip as he watches Emily walk to the front door.

“Yeah, she’s packing. She finished her marketing meeting for your shop like an hour ago.”

“K, thanks. See you tonight.” And with that, Harry jogged up the stairs to go to her room.

Knock… knock…

Deja-vu hits Y/N as she opens her door and sees Harry standing behind it. “Hi, you’re here again. The most I’ve spoken to you after the last three months.” Harry says nothing as he steps inside the room and closes the door.

“I’m leaving her.” He blurts out. He glances at her cozy outfit and her messy room before looking at her again.

“Oh.” Y/N’s eyes widen but she turns around and continues to fold her clothes into her luggage. “That’s a good decision to make. What made you change your mind?”

“You.”

“Harry, We were together for a year and you still didn’t want to leave her.” She sits on her bed and gives him a knowing look. “What made you change your mind?” She repeats.

“Um, I’ll share it with you. When I was eight, my parents divorced. After that, I promised myself I would take love and marriage so seriously -There would only be one person meant for me.”

“I never knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared to be vulnerable with you.” 

“But you opened up so easily to me about who you were. I just never knew this side of you.”

“I know.” Harry clears his throat and walks towards her. “It’s stupid to think about that rule I made to heart when I was younger. Things are different and I have you or at least I want you.” He closes his eyes for a brief second.. “I spoke to my mum and she told me you‘re right.”

“I know I am.” Y/N lets out a small laugh. 

“I just needed someone other than you to tell me it was okay to leave her. I know she and I aren’t even really together but everyone we know thinks we are.”

“Oh.”

“Look I’m sorry that I make things harder for us. I hated talking about the consequences of our relationship because it made me feel guilty and you don’t deserve to be the reason why. You make me so happy and I- I never took into account how truly you felt about our relationship. I continued to put you in a position you didn’t want to be in.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N purses her lips and looks at him, “Even though you were a total ass after our break up you know I still love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Even if you don’t love me back, and even if we both move on, there will always be a part of me that will always love you no matter what.” 

“Y/N I made myself promise that I would only love one woman and I never really thought about loving you when we were together. Maybe because it was so natural, the feeling went straight to my heart and I never thought about it. B seeing you at work yet feeling so distant from you and our relationship made me recognize how serious I was about you. With that, my wife never made me feel the way I’m with you. You taught me things to make me a better person. She’s different from who I fell in love with before and that’s okay because I’m different too now. ”

“So you aren’t just bluffing. You’re going to leave her. Not just for me but for you too?”

“Yes, I’m doing it for us.” He smirks at her and rests his hands on her waist. “I don’t know why I was stalling.”

“Well, now you’re here.” Y/N smiles as she reaches out to him. “I miss you.” She immediately kisses him as his hands intertwine with her hair, making him desperately kiss her back. 

“I miss you too baby.” He pushes her down gently on the bed as he carries her clothes off the bed and onto the bed. “I don’t know if I want to make love to you or fuck you so hard because I miss you.”

“Just do both. Over and over again.” Y/N whispers as she unzips her hoodie and takes off her shorts, leaving her in just her underwear. Harry locks her door and returns back as he quickly takes his shirt off. 

“Fuck you look so beautiful. My sweet angel. I can’t believe I had to lose you for a while.” He eyes her greedily before leaning down to leave soft kisses down her chest. His hands pull her down the bed and spread her legs open as his mouth continues to go south. “You don’t know how many times I thought about just fucking you over the desk at your work.”

“You barely spoke to me.” Y/N laughs as she watches Harry kneel on the floor. She quickly shuts up, however,  as she feels his hot mouth teasing her covered wet center.

 “Didn’t change the fact I had sleepless nights craving your body and needing your cuddles.” His cheeks turn red.

“What else did you want to do then.” Y/N takes her bra off and lets her fingers tug his hair. She was impatient, was it obvious? Both of them only had their hands to keep them happy.

 “Last month when I screamed at you in the meeting about merch prices, I was so hard because of your unbuttoned blouse. I couldn’t focus and I needed you out of the room.”

“I wasn’t even doing-”

“You were staring at me and rolling your eyes baby. I know my bad girl when she’s mad. I was so tempted to just pull you by your hair and make you suck my dick.”

“Then let me suck you off now.”

“Nuh, It’s about you,”Harry mumbles and kisses her inner thigh before ripping her thin underwear apart. “Fuck, so wet. I missed the way you taste baby.” Harry immediately dives in, letting his mouth suck on her clit as his fingers dance their way to her needy core.

“Har-”

“Call me what you want to call me.” Harry looks at her as his mouth bites and sucks on her thighs.

 “Daddy.” She moans out as his fingers quicken their pace. Her hands holding onto his hair as his mouth greedily attacked her. Licking and sucking without any mercy.

“Play with your titties baby while you watch me fuck you with my fingers.” He instructs as Y/N holds herself with one arm and plays with her boob with the other. 

“You make me feel so good. Oh my god.” Harry quickens his pace as he spits on her center, making him watch his saliva drip down to the sheets. 

“Turn around.” He helps her into the position before slapping her butt cheek. “Guess I’m going to fuck you first.”

“I need you so badly. Fuck, you ruined me for any other guy out there.” Y/N rests her head on the mattress as she feels him tease her centre. His pants were half off since he was too focused on his girl.

“So no boyfriends these past couple months.”

“No.”

“What about Elliot?”“

I was just starting to talk-” Harry inserts himself in. His hands tightly holding onto her waist. 

“You’re going to stop talking to him right? Cuz you’re mine.”

“Mhm…” Y/N turns herself around after a couple of thrusts, making her look directly at him. “Have you been uh seeing any-?” 

“No. Couldn’t get my mind off you and I just wanted your company.”“

Oh fuck, harder.” Her eyes roll back as Harry hits her most sensitive spot. His hand rests on her stomach as the other wondered around her body. 

“You’re so good for me baby.” He grunts as he leans down to kiss her. 

“Fuck, I’m going to come.”

“Just let go, it’s alright love, I'm here.” Harry softly reassures her with his hand wrapped around her neck.

So, this is what it feels like to be in heaven? Y/N thinks to herself as she finally reaches her high. Harry quickened his pace and by the time, he knows it -he spills his seed right inside of her.

“I love you Y/N.”

~

The trio was now back in America as they stood outside of LAX. Emily was in the car talking to her husband while Harry and Y/N decided to stay outside and talk. They were still waiting for the airport’s security to lead them out of the lot since there were paparazzi outside of this VIP parking area they were in.

“Do you think soulmates are real?” Y/N asks Harry. They stood 5 feet apart, both resting their backs on the car. They were acting as colleagues, as friends -not lovers.

“Yes.” He glances at her through his shades. “No matter where we go or what happens, the universe would lead us back to each other.”

“Are you saying I’m your soulmate?” she sucks on her lollipop innocently as she smirks at him. Harry just smiles back and nods as he crosses his arms again. 

That’s cute.

“I’m happy I have you again.”

“You better not be a bitch to me when you visit the office.”

“Me? A bitch?” Harry laughs at her statement.

“You’re sassy! Why else do you think I angrily stare at you at work.”

“I know. It pained me to walk right past you the first day after our breakup.” Harry stares at the concrete wall in front of them. “Did you notice I was in the office more though? I kind of hated you but I had this constant need to see you all time. I even started bugging Marissa and Paul about the marketing contracts so I could work with you through lunches.”

“A simp.” Y/N laughs.

 “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” She laughs at how clueless he is.

“Your hands look cold. Mind if I warm them up.” Harry intently looked at her hands that seemed to be doing alright. 

“We’re in LA and you think I’m cold.” She gives him a funny glare.“Just accept my flirtatious attempt to hold your hand.”

“Emily is inside the car and there’s paparazzi outside.”

“And?” 

“You can’t just

“Thought you wanted physical proof we’re together. No one is going to see us.”

“Security camer-”

“Walk closer to me.” Harry interrupts her. She follows along and stands beside him. He secretly reaches behind them to grab her hand. Now they were holding hands but no one could see. 

“You’re cute y’know.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at her. 

“Well, I should go in the car. There’s AC.” Y/N laughs at his cute attempt. As she walks away, her hand is still intertwined with his leading him to quickly pull her into him so he can kiss her.

“Sorry I couldn't stop myself.” His eyes widen. 

They immediately pull away. Harry looks inside the car to see Emily talking on the phone looking outside the window towards the other way. Thank the lord, she didn’t see them.

“Mr. Styles, the security is outside already. We can go.”

~

“Harry!” Y/N yells out his name through the speaker.

“Hi baby, I just woke up.”

“You have to rea.. read the news.” She was crying so badly that she could barely breathe.

“Why? What happened?” 

“They know Harry. Everyone knows about us and Paul just called me in for a meeting.”

His heart was beating fast as he hung up the call without bidding her goodbye or comforting her. His wife was sleeping in the other room but he could already hear the vases and picture frames being thrown at the walls. 

TMZ

Harry Styles is Caught Cheating on His Wife With Mysterious Girl!!!

Daily mail

Harry Styles is a Womanizer!

People

Harry Styles’ mistress is Y/N L/N!!!

Hollywood Life

All About Harry Styles’ Affair with Columbia Records Employee!

part three ici

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FIVE: A SPECIAL DAY

Author’s note: Hello! We have finally reached the awaited date between Harry and Alma. I was really excited for this chapter, hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I did, forgive me in advance for any mistakes, my beta reader (my boyfriend) was unavailable, so this is a good time to say that if anyone out there has the time and willingness to beta read any future chapters send me an ask or message to let me know. Enjoy! (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.6K **

Harry wakes up feeling excited, nervous and hungry. He takes care of the latter, decides to make some blueberry pancakes, turns out he can't eat more than two and a cup of coffee. Not that the pancakes weren't great, in fact they were fantastic, he even decides to brag about them on an Instagram story that is published for his close friends only. Nick quickly replies to it with a laughing emoji.

You should take a Tupperware full of them to your date ;)

The reason behind his excitement and nerves make his heart race, he decides to type in a polite 'fuck off' to his mate before heading to the shower. Under the warm spray of water he tries to sort out his thoughts. Harry doesn’t want to think about his upcoming trip to California. 

It was necessary for the album or so he thought last week, after going through a box with the very few memories he kept from his ex. He wasn’t in a right state of mind then, he feels pathetic. The only reason why he wanted to spend time in Los Angeles was because everything there —from the pavement to the sky— was tainted by her. 

Why would he want to go back to that place where the constant reminder of his pain was literally living in the same neighbourhood? Because it would provide him the cathartic release he was looking for. That’s the line he used after Sarah and Mitch tried to dissuade him from flying across the Atlantic and Harry was so proud of himself when it worked. 

That very same day, he got the first text from Alma, it was the address like she promised. ‘In case one of your talents isn’t stumbling upon my work place ;)’ the second text read and Harry had to endure Sarah’s questionnaire about the girl that made him blush with a mere wink emoji. Not that he minded talking about her, he could go on all day.

He usually preferred a shower before breakfast, usually even work out before then but well, hunger clouded his judgement earlier today. Even with that taken care of that dread still niggled him away. Just slightly. So, he decided to pick up his guitar for a moment and strummed. There was no real intention to play seriously, or to write anything down on the journal by his desk. It was more of something he enjoys too much not to do it, a way to keep his hands and mind busy, faffing around with chords. With a bit of luck he might come up with a song, a tune which just worked, that just... clicked.

Contrary to what people might believe, genius didn't strike him here and then. Not like when he'd come up with Sign of the times or Two ghosts. But finding a neat little pattern of chords a good thirty minutes later makes him smile, it's something he can work with. It needs a little polishing from Mitch and company, sure, but it has a good rhythm. He scribbled down some notes on his journal and sent the audio to his fellow musician.

Maybe he will find the words in one of the old notebooks that are somewhere in the other room, perhaps on the ones that are still on his unpacked suitcase from Japan. Silently he also hoped to find the lyrics around London. He had lived in the capital for a few years now, but he had been different then. Now he likes to think that he's a man, no longer the teenager from the boy band or the shiny new solo artist. He has new perspectives, sights, smells in this new home of his. New ideas.

Harry gazes out his bedroom window; the view is not great –mostly of the other houses in the complex. His mind focused on the cloudy sky, confused because he swore it was sunny just a few minutes ago, can bet on his life that he woke up to dazzling sunshine rays of a warm yellow colour peeking through that same window. He puts his guitar away on the bed with care and makes a beeline to his wardrobe. He needs to figure out what to wear, pronto.

Skipping her afternoon kip was not something Alma did, it was a rare occurrence which meant one thing: something special was happening.

Walking down Oxford Street, trying to decide where to get some lunch without a care in the world, that was until the calmness faded, when her schedule for the day hit her.

She had a date with Harry. A date, with Harry Styles. It was weird to go by his full name in her head, she couldn't bring herself to call or think about him as The Harry Styles.

Maybe she'd settle to call him Harry the tube guy.

The clock on her phone showed that it was no longer single figure hours, she needed to get some food now or starve until her shift was over, and then he would have to watch her feast at whatever place he chose. Alma groaned, thought how ridiculous it was to worry about him watching her eat. Harry was a grown man; of course he knows that women eat too, right?

Walking into the nearest Sainsbury's she decided to take a deep breath. He's just some guy, she concluded after paying for her chicken baguette. Nothing to stress about.

Harry showered again, while belting out some classic pop tunes. Namely Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears, something that in the past he'd swear blind you'd misheard and it was actually The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd. But he'd come to terms that he liked what he liked.

Towel clad in the bedroom, trying to shirk off hypothermia, he was quick to put on some pants and jeans, before throwing on some simple white tee proclaiming some fading band name. He uses a dry clean towel from the closet and attempts to dry his hair, as he styles his flopped mop the thought of a haircut crosses his mind. It was getting a bit long.

One last look at the clock and he is ready to leave. "You'll be fine. Trust me." He quietly speaks to himself before closing the last few buttons of his green parka and fixing the newsboy cap on his head.

When he walks out of Colindale tube station, a little earlier than half past five, he sees the bakery from her instructions just below the large modern building Alma was kind enough to describe. She was right; the bakery is right across the street, he waits for the green man to light up to cross, shoving his hands in his pockets. The huge front windows of the establishment allow Harry to see her behind the till, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She looks better than she did three weeks ago. He hesitates about going in for a few minutes, but feels it ought to be better than to lurk on the street.

Alma can feel his presence the moment he sets foot into the shop, her eyes are drawn to him and a content close lipped smile is the best greeting he could ask from her. The only customer in the place can feel the shift in the atmosphere when they lock eyes. So, picking up her bag full of baked goods, she steps out and leaves them alone.

"Sorry if I'm too early." He begins while she takes off her apron and hangs it in the back wall.

"You're right on time," Alma says after checking her watch, "I'm off Carlos, see you tomorrow!" She hollers to the employee that is taking a non-allowed nap in the back. Harry holds the door open for her and follows out of the warm store. "Shall we take the tube?" At his affirmative response, she then takes out her Oyster card and leads the way.

The café was not somewhere Alma expected Harry to go, the little shop with soothing music and simple stools full of the scent of organic coffee brewing is dazzling and unique. A bit like him, she thinks. She liked it. It reminded her of the places she used to frequent when she had recently moved into the city.

Harry orders a black coffee at the counter before asking Alma what she'd like.

"A cappuccino, and remember I'm paying for our food," she hands him a tenner that he reluctantly takes from her.

"Absolutely," he iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds two salted caramel cupcakes handing over the cash. "If you get a seat, I'll bring it over."

Alma thanks him before scampering across the room to sit at the back two seat table tucked in the corner. It was right beside the large back window, dimly lit. Before she sat, she removed her signature burgundy coat and Harry couldn't help his eyes being drawn to certain aspects of his companion. Nice arse, he remarked with a raise of his brows before the woman behind the counter tells him for the third time that his order is ready, a look of disdain as she probably caught his gaze. Giving her a sheepish smile to appease her, he manages to balance the two plates and mugs in his hands and walk over to the table.

"They asked if you wanted whipped cream or foam and I settled for foam, hope that's not a problem." He plonks himself on the seat across from her, removing his parka in a clumsy manner before hanging it in the back of the chair.

"No problem, I actually despise–

"Whipped cream, yeah, I kind of remembered what you told me about that birthday party of yours," the green eyed lad finishes for her and scratches the back of his neck. "You know with that dare..."

Her eyes flickered down to the cupcakes laid out before them and she started picking the caramel out of one, hoping to hide the nerves his words caused.

"Right enough, yeah... I can't believe you remembered that or that I told you about it." She chuckled nervously at the anecdote she chose to share with him, it was a bit inappropriate due to the amount of vomit around it, literally. But he shrugged with a charming smile. No big deal. "Nice place," she noted.

"I know it's a bit of a strange choice. It doesn't strike me as, you know, the kind of place you put so much effort into for a first date..." Harry stops talking and now his eyes meet the cupcake in front of him. "Bollocks I must have sounded so daft, I'm sorry." Lucky for him, she doesn't laugh, instead she reaches out to stroke his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing to be sorry about, I can be quite daft so..."

"I doubt that Miss suave." He gets a laugh out of her then, one that is almost a snort and earns a few glances from other customers.

"I’m far from it! Honestly, I once accidentally stepped on dog shit and didn't notice until my date couldn't bear the stink anymore and checked my shoe, in a very fancy restaurant. Terrible story. Trust me, I can be daft." Alma held up her hands and the musician giggled at her.

"Promise you won't laugh?" he raised an eyebrow at her, pleading. She promised. "Well, I kind of always wanted to have a first date here. It's always one of the first places I visit when I'm back in London, the food is amazing, and service is excellent. Came here completely hung-over after my twenty-first birthday party. I guess it has a lot of good memories." Pinked cheeks gave away Harry's embarrassment, he wanted to relax and for her to be more comfortable around him.

With a sincere smile Alma placed her hand over his resting on the table. "I think that is very sweet." This reply was not what he had expected; she leant in and beckoned him closer. "For your information Harry, this is exactly a great place for a first date." Up close he swore the darkness of her eyes were about to swallow him whole and spit him out to an alternate universe. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his coffee to distract himself a bit. Perhaps caffeine was not a good choice on a day where his heart was speeding so frequently.

"Did you have a good day today at work?" he asks with a familiarity that Alma can get used to.

"Yeah, had a bit of free time to plan my next video blog. It's been ages since I uploaded one." She bashfully admits. "This cupcake was delicious, a great flavour choice." And just like that they fall into easy conversation until their cups are drained. The place is almost empty around quarter to eight and they both know it's almost closing time –the death glances from the employees behind the counter gave it away. They put on their garments again before leaving.

Harry makes his way to the door expecting Alma to follow. Instead she first gathered up their mugs and plates, to place them neatly on the counter and thanked the three workers behind it with a genuine smile. Harry looked surprised; she didn't quite have to do that. She noticed.

"Just being polite," she stated the obvious, before walking under his arm that held open the door. He chose not to comment and fought back a smile.

They stood outside, not really sure of what to do next. Usually he would suggest going back to his place. It was near, but he watched her yawn discreetly and he suddenly remembered that she had a real job, well actually jobs in plural. He broke the silence.

"It was nice to see you again Alma." He meant it and she smiled as she toyed with the buttons of her coat. British summer weather was hardly cold, but today it seemed to be punishingly windy. Harry near gave a shiver, but instead took a deep breath before speaking again. It was now or never. "It'd be quite great, if I could... I'd like to see you again. Please." He shifted on one foot, nearly drowned in the silence that followed.

"I'd quite love to see you again," Harry gave a slight gulp, very slight and got out strength from the words she spoke to take a big risk, the first of today.

He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her cheek. It wasn't the full on kiss he wanted to give her. But it is something he'd been dying to do since he first saw her today, something he hoped would make clear how attracted he was to her. Harry smelled like coffee and caramel. God this man's lips are prettier up close, she thought right before he straightened up.

She stayed close to him before speaking again. A low murmur so that the passing London traffic wouldn't steal her words from him.

"This was an amazing date."

Alma walked with him the long distance of one mile to the tube station, their hands brushing against each other. He was desperate to just hold hers, kiss her soft knuckles and ask about the lightning-shaped scar on her little finger. But decided against it, he knew that West Hampstead was not a common area for paparazzi, but he didn't want to risk her. Especially after the splendid afternoon they just shared.

They said their farewells.

"I'll call you," he said again. She warned that he better, before entering the station, he took great delight in watching her walk away from him, his gaze falling once more to her bum now covered by the coat. Harry spun on his heel and walked the short distance to his home.

Surely London could help him find the lyrics for that tune, this city definitely had something.

///

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///

TAG LIST: @laurxn-robinson​ @mellamolayla​ 

[calypsoff]

Eighty Four.

“I already got my single, this is it! This is it!” I clapped my hands together in excitement, so excited “you already predicting that?” Adam said looking up from the paper “I am sorry but that song, it’s just made me so happy, the lyrics just hit. They hit so fucking good, like if I could then I would send it to a special someone” clapping my hands together again “woo! This has made my trip to New York so worth it, like it really has” These songs are just hitting, they are hitting so good. It’s how I am feeling and now this “yeah when Jay said go to Cali I was like hell the fuck no, she can come here. I got the perfect beat for her, I know I could have come there but I been working on a lot of projects then I caught that Rihanna is in the studio again, I said I have the perfect beat. Then you had the writers so yeah” Mustard said “thank you, like it’s perfect” this album is making me so happy “you know that part, the how you feel, how you feel, used to trip off that shit I was kickin' to ya had some fun on the run though, I give it to ya. I want you back in the booth and run that back. Like I can hear it in your voice, I want you to put more feeling into it, more anger. Run it back! Let her hear it before she goes back in the booth” Adam spat; Mustard turned to the soundboard. I am working so hard for this album, I went to London and came back here for this. Things are a little all over the place, but I am trying to bring it together. I am concentrating on my album first, but I had to have a meeting about my Fenty business, something that needed to happen. I even took Rylee to my meeting, we wore matching outfits, and she was the one that stole the meeting, she is already signing deals my baby but not so fast. I want her to have a normal life, I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to deal with a baby and work, I am but like when it comes to this part she is with my family. I have Rorrey with me, Tina, Mel, Dennis but he is here with me, I now have another one in my team, he is new, and he is with me in the studio “are not done yet?” looking behind me “you done nothing but eat Jahleel, be quiet” I like him, he makes me laugh even though he talks shit.

Dennis took the picture of Mustard, Adam and I “it’s so good seeing you riri” turning to Mustard and hugging him “it’s been good, I am telling you now. This will be on the album, thank you” moving back from the hug “I got you, and if I have anything else I will come to you” turning on myself and hugged Adam “me and you will be seeing each other tomorrow” Adam looked at my dumbfounded “I am literally going to the club with you” hitting his arm laughing “boy be quiet, anyways we move. Let’s go” picking my bag from the countertop “bitch!” Jen spat, I screamed wasn’t expecting some scary ass bitch in my way “what the fuck!” hugging her in hysterics “I have missed you so so so much, I am so sorry I have been missing” she has literally been away from me for so long “how are you?” I don’t even want to speak about it, moving back waving her off “I am going to the SUV, come” walking by her, like it’s a hard subject for me. It’s hard, I am finding it hard, every day I am finding it hard but what do I know, what does he care, or does he not care at all. Taking in a deep breath as I made my way to the elevator, tapping the button and looked behind me “give me those chips” Jah just been eating my damn chips all this time.

Jahleel was supposed to get in first but here he is climbing on me, hitting his ass as he climbed over me to the back “hello” Rorrey answered “hey how is my baby? Is she ok?” I need to check on Rylee first “it’s two in the morning, she is asleep. But she is fine, so Tina is staying behind. We are seeing you at the club” nodding my head, least I know the intinery “cool, and don’t say it like my daughter is a burden” I heard his tone “never! That is my love” side eyeing him as I put the phone down, opening the chips I took off Jah “I heard your ex is in town” grabbing a handful and throwing them behind me “sorry Adam and Dennis, he is annoying” Jen just laughed “he is not even my ex, he is still my husband. Just on a prolonged break” placing chips in my mouth “you are glowing though, you look happy” I shrugged at Jen saying that “music is making me happy, I keep that to myself really. But it’s been on and off, we text and it’s like one of us is just waiting to make the move, and I am like not me but yeah, I didn’t know he was in New York, oh yeah it’s Drake’ tour date, how can I forget” rolling my eyes looking out of the window, I mean he has been on there since the start. He had the nerve to facetime Rylee on my phone when he said show me your face to me, like I made Rorrey hold my phone and Chris didn’t like it and was just like this is awkward “but how does that work Rihanna? Like it makes no sense, you both married but what? I know he must have dipped” Jah said in the back “I don’t think he has; I say think but I know he hasn’t, I just know it. I know Chris and his persona hasn’t changed; nobody will know him better than me. He hasn’t” I am really confident in saying that, even though he has done the most with annoying me, there has been so many blogs, magazines talking about me and my life and Chris being around girls but there was a video of him in Atlanta and he was coming out just behind Chubbs and someone said, who cheats on Rihanna and Chris did confidently say nobody cheated and walked off, so I do trust him with that, I know Chris and I know he hasn’t.

I got changed in the car while my entourage waited outside the car including the driver, I am just wearing an oversized shirt and some heels. It was a quick change; my hair is a pixie cut and my makeup is kind of done anyways but I am done. Shuffling out of the car “girl you have backed up the whole street” pulling my top down laughing “well let them wait, who cares” walking around the SUV “you took your time” hugging Rorrey as I made my way inside the 40 40 club, I just need a little party to be honest, let loose a little “looking beautiful Rihanna” the bouncer said as he let us in “thank you” smiling wide, I didn’t even refresh my lipstick but he is complimenting me “follow me” the guy said, I don’t know who he is but I will follow him. It’s been a while since I have been to a club, today is the day. I mean I am in no way going to get wasted because my daughter, I need to be aware because if she plays Tina up then I need to go back “isn’t it good to be back partying!” Mel placed her arm around my shoulder, I pointed at Mustard, this nigga here too, he didn’t even mention it. He saluted me laughing, he could have dropped me off actually.

We ended up in the section with Mustard, I say ended up but we were next to each other so I decided that we would just be together in this, our entourage seemed to have grown “about time!” I spat, I been waiting on my cocktail to arrive, taking it from Rorrey “what is that called? Looks nice” Mel pointed “grape sex!” I laughed; Mel waved me off. I really picked it for the name anyways “you really love that song don’t you, Needed me” Mustard said in my ear, nodding my head “it just you know, it explains how I feel right now so that is why” sipping on my cocktail “you single?” holding my hand up “married still” I laughed “I am not asking for me, no. I was just asking, he is crazy to be leaving alone, not in that way at all but how can he just leave that” I giggled “we are on a break but it’s whatever, and honestly I would never let a nigga leave me. I leave them” smiling at him as I looked away from him, I think his little friend asked that. I mean his friend is good looking, he is cute but no way I am looking for any man, not now anyways. It’s about me and my daughter, I think I can confirm that ask was for his friend, he is just smiling at me like an idiot. Niggas really do not care though, how is asking when there has been no confirmation of anything but just because he isn’t here they ask, that is wild.

Oh Mustard and his friend switched sides so I am not having to deal with him but he’s harmless, lots of compliments anyways “you really don’t look like a mother of a five month old” I snorted laughing “how you know she is five months? You stalking me now?” looking up at him, he is tall “I pay attention” raising an eyebrow “that is called stalking boo but thank you” feeling a tap on my arm, looking at Jen and pointed at the bottle service girl “what?” I said “she said she needs to speak to you” why me, I need to get down and I have heels on. Looking to the side of me “help me down then!” I spat, he laughed “oh yeah, sorry” holding his hand as I stepped down, what the hell does she even want. The lady shuffled closer to me, moving closer to her “so sorry Rihanna, I come to give you this wine bottle and glass” she said in my ear, I mean I didn’t need to come down for that at all. Taking the wine and glass “also” she came closer to my ear again “he said I know you like your wine rabbit” my heart just dropped, Chris is here “he is here?” I said to her “yes he has” she said, how did I not notice this “thank you” moving back from her, looking down at the wine. It’s not cheap anyways, placing the bottle on the table and glass. The guy already got his hand out, I don’t even know his name, smiling as I took his hand to climb back up, he literally just dragged me up in one swift, that was nice “what is your name? I didn’t ask?” it’s rude “Anthony” turning around, not that I want too now. Chris has been here all this time; how did I not notice it. Now my eyes is darting all around just looking, I mean is he here with Drake. The funniest part is Wild for the Night is playing and he is here, my eyes laid on Drake so he must be there, Drake come here very lowkey. Even though this club is not the brightest, Chris and I just stared at each other, and it’s been a while since we have seen each other, looking away from him.

Chris has done nothing but send drinks to us and nobody knows who but me, I am about to lose my senses because it’s free drinks, my whole entourage about to be wasted, they think we are getting special treatment because of Jay “we have the queen Rihanna in the building!! Give it up to riri” raising my glass laughing “bap! Bap! Bap! Strip clubs and dollar bills!” I shouted, we about to get turnt the fuck up!” I am super lit right now; Mel slipped a note in my hand. Looking down at her and she pointed at the bottle server, opening the note ‘check your phone’ of course it’s Chris, balling up the note and dropping it to the floor. Tapping on Mel’ shoulder “phone” I spat, she nodded her head and went to my bag. Honestly he has not looked away from me, every move and every drink he is watching me like a hawk, and he can “here” grabbing my phone “this music is boring” Anthony said in my ear, I gasped looking over at him “do you saying my music is boring, rude!” I spat laughing, that is not nice at all. Tapping on his message as my phone unlocked, I know he is has something stupid to say.

Chris: Yu look nice! Yu know I like your hair long but I will take the pixie cut again

Licking my lips looking up from my phone, that was it. He made me get my phone for that, downing the rest of my drink and passed it to the side of me, Anthony looked so confused but he took it, I don’t care who takes it, I just need the glass out of my hand.

Robyn: Right?

I mean what else does he want me to say, he hasn’t really seen my daughter and he is in the club and is just watching me, like what is you doing.

Chris: Right? Yu missed me and why yu stood with some nigga, disrespectful???

Robyn: My new man, duhhhhhh

He is taking about disrespectful when he been around girls “staying with my girl Rihanna, this one is for you” I laughed out, it had to be that song “we found love” I said to myself locking my phone, I mean it is what it is but he has to play that “hey, can I take a selfie with you?” Anthony asked “of course, he leaned down to me, I feel so short with him. Resting arm on his shoulder smiling “hey, that’s a video” I pointed, pressing my finger in his dimple “you sly” I giggled “come on, I just slipped” waving him off “you didn’t slip shit nigga” such a liar, shaking my head laughing. My phone is ringing in my hand like mad, and I mean repeatedly ringing. Looking at the I.D and then looking up at Chris and declined it, he is going crazy “so can I have the picture” looking up at him “my husband is here” I said laughing to myself “oh I saw that nigga, he was giving me looks. I just want a picture with you” I sighed out, he leaned down once again and I shuffled closer to him smiling, he finally took the picture “you’re very good looking by the way” I have to compliment him “but I am a little too late, I get it” he pointed “I think your husband is coming” turning my head seeing Chris is actually coming, it’s honestly funny to see that is he bothered, watching intently at my team and how they are but they pretty much moved out of the way, placing my hand on Rorrey’ arm, I rather he didn’t in this setting but he moved. Looking to the side of me laughing “I have been summoned” both Chris and Anthony held their hands out to me “oh ok” I didn’t want to cause havoc, so I placed my hand in Chris’ “thank you” I mouthed to Anthony.

I just feel it, I feel all eyes on us. Snatching my hand away from his, he can get off now. My team are just looking at me as I walked behind Chris, I am not in trouble, but I feel very giddy. Grabbing the wine bottle as I walked behind him “be good now” Jah said, rolling my eyes. We haven’t spoken since and here we are, he just went into the corner of the club, it’s very quiet there actually. Chris watched me and gestured I sit first; I mean of course I will. I shuffled in to sit, I don’t know why I feel like a naughty school girl, but I think I am “don’t get above yourself now, it’s called saving face. I am not going to disrespect you like that” turning a little to Chris, he sat down in a huff, and I have missed him so much “I really dislike when you show yourself off like that and then that nigga? Does he want a punch” raising an eyebrow “so you bought me here for that?” tilting my head to the side “nah, I just not had sex in a while, and you look sexy” I laughed before drinking from the wine “I mean just because we ain’t speaking we can’t have hateful sex? It works right” moving the wine bottle back “I mean you have a point, but you don’t deserve me” I shrugged “but I do, I miss you” so he says “then show it, you are missing out on Rylee Chris. How is that fair on her” Chris turned to me and placed his arm behind the lounge seating just behind me, oh this is a nice position “I miss you Robyn, I really do. I can’t stop just watching you from there, you just been hiding from me” licking my top lip “mhmmm” looking down at his lap “so you not had sex since?” he shook his head “chances are there, not going to lie but no” you know what, I wasn’t even thinking I just placed my hand on his upper thigh and he flinched, just the reaction alone tells me he hasn’t “just slapping your thigh” moving my hand back “I really can’t stand you Chris for obvious reasons, like you are really dumb and stubborn. I just, no” waving him off getting up but he placed his hand on my leg, so I sat back down “what?” I said “just please” I sighed out; I am not going to forgive like that. This is no way something I want but I refuse to make a scene.

Pressing my lips into a hard thin line, you know what I haven’t had sex in a while and neither has he, he is my husband still but Chris and I have been sat here in silence, like not speaking but that is us. Our presence alone, we can just be quiet but it’s a comfortable silence. Chris shifted and leaned into me “you look better then any woman here you know, you know that though” he said in my ear, moving my head back “you really trying aren’t you” I said laughing, it’s funny because he is “you’re my wife” he said in my ear and he then started licking my ear, looking up catching Mel jus looking over at me. I gasped as he started sucking on my ear lobe “stop” I said laughing “I have missed you so fucking much, your smell too” I yelped out as he started attacking my neck “stop” he pressed several kisses onto my neck, placing my hands at the side of his head “stop yeah” he moved back “I missed you, I really have” staring at his face “but I don’t forgive you” Chris nodded his head “I get that, I don’t expect it” I suppose we could.

[thescorpioracer]

Sen Çal Kapımı 1 - Episode Recap

To be honest, this series of posts is mostly going to be a fashion roast. But DISCLAIMER! I really do love this show and Turkish TV in general, it’s just my preferred mode of media analysis is to pick things apart. 😂And I need everyone to know that I am very pro-women, and believe people should be able to dress how they want and not be judged for it or be looked down upon for it. But oh my god this wardrobe department/costumer needs to be STOPPED. I also have zero credentials to be talking about fashion, but will that stop me?

I’m going to make these posts assuming you’ve watched the show, and just comment on whatever comes up. There will be spoilers. Let’s go!

We start off with a voiceover from Eda Yıldız, an A+ romcom trope. (It wasn’t until my rewatch that I remembered that Eda used to do VOs at random intervals, and I’m kind of glad she stopped tbh.) She is a strong woman who wants to get her education and become a landscape architect/designer. She was all set to do that until- dun dun dun! - Serkan Bolat destroyed everything. 

Check out that dart board of a man (and this is the only time we see that photo there). And these outfits are probably the most normal and reasonable clothes she wears in the show. She’s a beautiful young woman, who was a college student, and now works outdoors as a florist. 10/10 outfit. 

Of course that transitions us into an epic slomo of Serkan exiting his private jet. He of course begins to berate his assistant on the phone in a way a friend described as reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada.

@teamnick​​‘s commentary back when she first started the show. 

Serkan returns to his office for the first time in 2 months after working on business deals in London. Chaos ensues: Miranda Priestly is baaaaaaack.

See... here we have some good fashion choices! We meet the girls for the first time, while they try to sneak off to their graduation without making Eda feel bad that she won’t be receiving her diploma. Melek “Melo” is dressed in a sweet dress with a bold, romantic color, which captures her personality perfectly. Ceren, the rich daughter from a family of lawyers, looks a bit more high-fashion. The dress is short but it has long sleeves and no cleavage so it works out to be chic and elegant. Fifi is unapologetically herself with her full-black, punk wardrobe. Eda is again dressed in a pretty, but casual outfit. Nicely put together for her lower-middle-class lifestyle and her job as a florist.

Enter: the plot device to get our protagonists together. Serkan’s face says it all.

We are then introduced to the main couple’s respective cars. Serkan has his 2020 BMW (though the show blocks out the copyrighted branding) while Eda’s beat up SUV is clearly unreliable. What’s that? Another plot device being introduced? I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Also, I just noticed this, but for someone as uptight as Serkan, I’m surprised at how fun his suit jacket lining is. If I’m not mistaken the pattern is of a bunch of rainbow fish. #Snazzy, but they seem out of character?

Plot highlights:

Eda learns she can come back to school and finish her final year, but she’s lost her scholarship and will have to pay. She can’t.

Serkan gives his talk at the graduation (?)-- Is his talk just for architecture students? If so, why are Ceren, Fifi, and Melo there? We’ll never know. I know, I know... it’s all for the ~plot~

Eda calls Serkan out in front of everyone for taking away the scholarship that she earned from his company, Art Life. He is confused but unrepentant. She refuses to tell him her name.

She tries to deface his car with lipstick after keying the side (we never hear about the damage to his car after that). He catches her and wants to call the police, so she impulsively handcuffs them together with the plot devices from Selin’s wedding invitation sitting on his passenger seat.

They then have to go to Serkan’s urgent business meeting with an out-of-town client. Eda drives while they’re handcuffed together. Bickering ensues.

What is this? Foreshadowing? Symbolism?? Eda’s last name “Yıldız” is the Turkish word for “star” so... file that away for later.

One of my favorite parts about watching Turkish dramas is the experience of trying to decipher the fan translations. Add to the fact that Turkish only has 1 pronoun *chef’s kiss* 

Eda refuses to take the elevator to the 15th floor (we’ll learn about her claustrophobia later). Serkan is equally as stubborn, saying she owes  him for screwing up his day. But he has met his match in Eda with regards to stubbornness. They take the stairs.

More highlights:

First instance of fake dating - they need to hide the handcuffs from his client so Eda pretends she’s his girlfriend and a fellow investor.

The girls track Eda’s phone to the hotel and try to find her by asking around the premises. 

Eda charms the client into selling his land to Serkan.

We learn that Serkan is allergic to strawberries and has a lot of health anxiety. He’s a very tightly wound person.

Serkan says “Mashallah,” translator hears 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Engin brings way too many people to open the handcuffs and chaos ensues.

I feel like nothing can do justice to the comedy of 58:45 to 1:00:00 with Fifi using a bobby pin as a lock pick. The dramatic editing is 👌🏼

Leyla gets fired for somehow causing this drama??? And she is so happy to leave that stressful workplace omg, we don’t deserve her 🥺

Serkan and Eda go their separate ways, Eda prepared to never see her enemy again, but of course her phone and purse are still in his car so she has to go to his office at Art Life and confront him again.

Serkan has found out that Whoops, Art Life did cancel the study abroad scholarships to cut costs, but his CFO did it without telling him. And Serkan is pissed, but I think mainly about the fact that Eda did have some (SOME) grounds for yelling at him in public.

Leyla then explains the nonsensical reasoning behind her being fired-but-not-fired and still working. (Spoiler alert: she never goes anywhere and she is my favorite side character to this day).

Eda: “How can I piss Serkan off?” Leyla: “Find a mistake he’s made and he will fixate on it forever. But you won’t find anything.” Eda: “Hold my beer.”

Eda walks into Serkan’s office and his meeting. She gets her purse back and they fight about him not being willing to apologize for ruining her life and education. He refuses and says she owes him an apology for embarrassing him in public (no, dude).

He wants to give her back the scholarship and make it all go away but she rightly tells him that it won’t fix her broken pride from begging the company and her university for a second chance. But somehow her calling him a heartless “Robot” is what gets to him???? And he short-circuits. Eda walks out triumphant. 

~dRaMa!~

MEANWHILE

Melo, as well as being a perfume sales girl, also works as a flight attendant and wants Eda to cover her shift (we’ll get into how that doesn’t make sense in a minute) 

Eda says no, she’s going to meet her boyfriend, Cenk, who she hasn’t seen in months and has just returned from Italy.

Enter: Selin. Serkan’s ex who he dumped a while ago and is now engaged to the heir of a hotel empire. Serkan doesn’t like this. The two of them grew up together and are set to each inherit 50% of the holding company that Serkan’s father currently runs.

Right away Selin serves us with a gender reveal level color scheme.  Personally not a fan. They confirm that Serkan is coming to her engagement party tomorrow.

Meanwhile Eda  meets up with Cenk. Her outfit is still reasonable and cute for her character. He looks mildly like a hobo and doesn’t seem to have anything going for him (I know he’s a throwaway character but the two of them really don’t have anything in common).

This creeper keeps staring at them, but Cenk tries to explain it away and says he’s busy and can’t meet her again until the day after tomorrow. Eda is disappointed but accepts this. Creeper girl remains and remains a red flag to viewers, but apparently not to Eda.

Cut to later that evening, and of course our broody main man enjoys astronomy in his free time (???) idk what he’s charting and to what purpose but okay? 

Eda finds a mini first aid kit in her purse that Serkan put there before returning it. Queue montage of them treating their respective wrists for handcuff-related injuries. #couplegoals

Of course we also needed a sepia-toned flashback to earlier that day when the handcuffs contrived their faces to get too close together. #romance

Finallyyyyyyy it’s morning again and a new day.

Since Eda can’t see Cenk (good, he’s so boring), she agrees to fill in as a flight attendant for Melo, who’s side job is for a private plane company.

Now. This should not be a thing. Eda was in college to be a landscape architect and now works as a florist for her aunt... Where has she learned any relevant skills to work as a flight attendant?? Presumably nowhere. And I really don’t think a private plane company would be so easygoing about just having a random person fill in to cover for her friend? 

But does this show care about that? What do you think...

Also, instead of the standard white shirt, black skirt uniform requirements, the girls decide that this skimpy dress and heels is fine? Hmmm

Also lol @ Melo for assuming that the client who wants jasmine tea and fruit salad is probably a woman. And her telling Eda that the PRIVATE JET COMPANY would in fact have its own tea was very random and unnecessary. 

Back at the Bolat house compound, we meet the parents: Aydan and Alptekin. We’ll see them again later. Selin’s engagement party is today. 

Meanwhile Eda is just.... being a flight attendant, I guess??? And who could possibly be the passenger she has to take care of? Take a wild guess. Of course it’s Serkan Bolat.

And of course that tiny dress (THAT ALSO HAS A LEG SLIT?? WHY?? I really don’t need to see her vagina) looks very practical and professional... not! (Hande Erçel is a gorgeous human, and the dress looks good on her, don’t get me wrong. BUT THIS IS SITUATIONALLY INCORRECT ATTIRE). Also him just folding his vest and then social distancing from it... K? 😂

Eda panics and doesn’t want Serkan to see her and runs away back to her seat pod thing - Serkan takes issue with his fruit salad for ~plot reasons~ (EDIT: I’ve been informed that it’s because there was a strawberry in his fruit salad and since he’s allergic, of course it needed to be fixed. Why doesn’t the plane have a note of that??) and comes back to find this mystery flight attendant.

Eda is very stressed out about this encounter and is also starting to have a panic attack because, surprise, she’s also claustrophobic. 

After Serkan calms her down, they have a cute/civil conversation for the rest of the flight.

When they land, Eda realizes they’re on an island 2h45min away from Istanbul and she isn’t sure what to do with herself (How did she not already know where they were going, as the FLIGHT ATTENDANT??? So may red flags with this private jet company).

Serkan convinces Eda to come with him and she can hang out at the beach while he’s at Selin’s engagement party.

At the engagement party we finally meet Selin’s fiancé Ferit. He’s sweet and non-threatening and clearly insecure about Serkan being Selin’s ex.

This dress/skirt outfit Selin is wearing isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t scream rich socialite to me. Anything with feathers seems... a bit tacky/too showy? Like someone pretending to be rich? Idk, this outfit isn’t one I’m going to really take a stand on.

Does this engagement party warrant being a 2h45 min flight away? No. They try to explain it away as the couple wanting to have something small and private, even though they also invite the press?? But okay whatever, as long as Serkan and Eda cross paths again, I suppose.

Kaan Karadağ has been mentioned a couple times in passing, but now we finally meet our “villain.” Ferit’s friend, and Serkan & Selin’s childhood acquaintance, who has it out for Serkan bc he somehow bankrupted Kaan’s dad? Idk and I don’t really care but tl;dr they’re enemies. 

Another thing I love about Turkish dramas is the censoring. Like, they’ll allow alcohol to be on screen, but they won’t say the word and they’ll just blur out the bottle and any liquid that we’d assume is alcoholic 😂

In the evening, Serkan is tired and wants to leave and Ferit snidely jokes about how Serkan is too picky to have a fiancé of his own. Serkan flashes back to 1 entire day ago when he and Eda pretended to be dating at his business meeting, and says that actually he is engaged to someone and then peaces out.

Serkan finds Eda on the beach, and they are preparing to leave when a crowd of people (Selin, Ferit, and Kaan mainly), arrive to get a peek at Serkan’s new “fiancé.” Eda very reluctantly plays along (good thing she has that unnecessarily sexy “work” dress to help her look the part) and Serkan notices that for the first time ever, Selin is jealous of another woman. #drama

After they finally escape the crowd, Serkan makes an annoyed Eda an offer: Pretend to be his fiancé for the 2 months leading up to Selin’s wedding so he can get them to break up and prevent Ferit marrying into the company. In return, he will pay all the fees to help her complete her last year of studies in Italy.

Eda refuses, stating that she doesn’t want anything from him, and besides she has a boyfriend (Sure Jan; Cenk is such a joke). They have it out and then fly back to Istanbul. But of course the gossips at the engagement have spread the news of Serkan’s new woman so the paparazzi corner them at the airport when they land. 

So glad that we got to see this random mechanic find out the news (???)

They escape the cameras and Serkan takes her home, saying that Art Life has a press conference tomorrow, and she should come so he can save face and tell everyone that she was his assistant accompanying him for work to the party. Eda agrees. 

It should also be mentioned that Serkan still doesn’t know her name at this point?? She refused to tell him and Engin still hasn’t sent him the names of the scholarship candidates so it’s a bit miraculous that their relationship was at all believable.

The next day, Cenk wants to meet but Eda has to go to the press conference. The girls come too for whatever reason, and Melo is convinced that Cenk wants to propose. Eda just lets that fantasy take hold (why tho?), and Cenk shows up unexpectedly right before the press conference and takes Eda into the nearby hotel’s cafe so they can talk.

Eda seems ready for a proposal (they haven’t seen each other or really communicated in months??) but Cenk wants to break up. Eda is shocked (???) but then Cenk mentions that he has a new girlfriend from Italy that he adores, and oh by the way, it’s the creepy girl from the other night who also happens to be here right now?

Okay fine, I guess??? Cenk: “She’s doesn’t speak Turkish” Girlfriend: *clearly a Turkish actress*

Eda is upset that he brought his jealous girlfriend with him to break up with her and says something about how actually, she’s seeing Serkan Bolat now (maybe it’s just me being someone who doesn’t follow tabloids, but are business people really that popular in every day society where everyone knows who they are?). Cenk laughs at Eda, saying that everyone wants to be with Serkan Bolat, and that she’s bluffing.

Eda makes an impulsive decision, and walks away, over to where Serkan has started the press conference. And seals their fate as fake dating in the public eye.

Queue confetti. No really.

And there we have it. That’s the episode!

In all seriousness, it’s a pretty great pilot, especially for a romcom. It hits all the right beats, includes enough tropes, and tells us a lot about what we should expect in the episodes going forward. And no matter how much I make fun of it, I really do enjoy this show! It’s been such a nice distraction from Current Events. I’ve spent a lot of time watching these episodes just saying “oh my god” out loud to myself as I watch all of the cute/romantic gestures that give me a lot of second hand embarrassment (I forget that PDA makes me kinda uncomfortable 😂).

There wasn’t actually that much terrible fashion in this episode, which I didn’t notice until my rewatch. If I continue with this series of posts, I’m hoping they’ll end up being less plot-centric, and more about the situationally inappropriate outfits and strange subtitling choices. 

See you next time? 

[1dffchallenges]

Boundless As the Sea

Written By: @wokeuptired​

Characters: Niall/Bea

Summary: There's nothing Beatrix Madison finds as silly as Romeo and Juliet, but Niall Horan's a sucker for a love story—even though his own has gone off the rails. When he finds a letter from Bea's grandmother dated half a century ago in the wall below Juliet's balcony, he has to write back. He doesn't expect anything to come of it, and he certainly doesn't expect to find himself going head to head with Bea. 

Author's note: The title is from Act 2, scene 2, when Juliet, on her balcony, says to Romeo, "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep. The more I give to thee, / The more I have, for both are infinite." 

Warnings: enough f words to earn an R rating

One - Bea

For as long as she could remember, Beatrix Madison’s grandmother had never taken lunch without a glass of wine. White, red, sparkling, it didn’t matter, so long as it was alcoholic and complimented the dish. So when Bea arrives for lunch today and sits down at a table devoid of wine glasses, she knows instantly that something is up.

There’s water waiting for her, and a cup of tea that Gran always orders for Bea even though Bea never drinks it. That’s their weekly ritual: lunch every Thursday at Gran’s favorite restaurant, the same meals every time, same table, same waitstaff, and same cup of tea that Bea will never, ever, drink.

The only thing out of place today is the missing wineglass that always sits beside Gran’s plate. Nothing seems amiss about Gran herself: her gray hair is piled primly on top of her head, her lips are touched with a pale mauve, and her cardigan is neatly buttoned all the way up. She’s Gran as always. Except for the wine.

“Is everything all right?” Bea asks, sliding her phone underneath her thigh so that she can give her grandmother her full attention. That’s another one of Gran’s things: she hates cell phones at the table as much as she loves wine. She hates them so much that she didn’t even have one, instead relying on a landline that she often fails to answer.

“Of course, dear,” her grandmother answers. Though she’s coming up on her 75th birthday, Gran certainly doesn’t look it. Nothing has slowed her down, not even taking on the responsibility of raising Bea from the time she was 9, after her parents’ death in a car accident. Gran was in her mid-fifties at the time, looking forward to retiring and traveling and a life free of responsibility, and then life saddled her with Bea.

Now, coming up on 80, she seems to be thriving, which is something that Bea does her best not to be too upset about. It wasn’t her fault her parents died, leaving her grandmother to raise her, but Bea feels guilty about it nonetheless, even now that she’s 25 and hasn’t been a burden to Gran for several years.

“Eat your salad,” Gran says just as a waiter appears and sets it down in front of her.

Bea picks up her fork and stabs at a tomato, misses, and spends another ten seconds chasing it around her plate before she catches it. When she puts it in her mouth and looks up, her grandmother is watching her.

“Are you sure everything’s alright, Gran?” Bea asks again. Her heart clenches, thinking of the worst. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“Of course not,” her grandmother says, smiling. Bea can’t remember the last time she saw her grandmother smile this much. Something is definitely going on. Maybe Gran has mastered a new banana bread recipe or purchased a new piece of art for the hallway and she’s eager to show it off. Yes, that’s probably it. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong. Tell me about your date on Friday. Did it go as expected?”

Bea grimaces. It was much, much worse than expected. “Not at all. He was twenty minutes late and then spent another twenty minutes talking about his ex. And he was wearing far too much cologne.”

Gran laughs. “You’re far too picky, Bea Bug. Maybe that’s your problem.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Bea says. “He really was awful, Gran. You’re lucky you’ll never have to meet him.”

“Mmm.” Gran’s eyes twitch to the side, where Bea notices an envelope sitting on the table. She also notices that her grandmother has barely touched her own salad, dressing on the side, just how she always orders it. “Speaking of love…”

“Speaking of love?”

Gran touches the envelope and slides it across the table towards Bea. “Fancy a trip to Italy?”

“Italy?” Bea turns the envelope over. It’s addressed to Gran at her estate just outside London, which, if you’re old and snooty, is what’s known as “the family seat.” It’s the house that Bea will begrudgingly inherit someday (hopefully not someday soon), along with all the accrued debt that will come with it. She slips her finger under the flap, which has already been unsealed, and finds a folded letter and another, smaller envelope inside.

“Juliet” is written on the outside of the envelope. Bea opens it and takes out the letter it contains.

Verona, 1965

Juliet, I don’t know what to do. I’m meant to leave tomorrow to return to London, where Robert is waiting for me. We’ve been betrothed since we were teenagers, and he is my destiny, the one I’ve always known about.

But now there is Alessandro, whose dark hair shines under the moonlight when I sneak out after dark to meet him. I feel like a teenager again, not like a university student months away from graduation and marriage. Alessandro makes me feel invincible. He makes me feel like I am worth the world.

Oh, Juliet, what would you do? I know what you’d do. You’d pack up your suitcase and run away with Alessandro tonight. You’d leave behind your destined life in England and choose a new destiny for yourself.

But what if, Juliet, what if I’m not brave enough?

Yours,

Carolyn

Bea reads the letter through a second time, her mind spinning. Finally, she raises her eyes from the wrinkled piece of paper and meets her Gran’s gaze. “Gran, did you write this?”

Her Gran smiles, nods. “Years ago, yes. Now you must read the other letter.”

Oh, God. What could it possibly be? Is it from Alessandro, writing to Gran after all these years, asking her to return to Verona and marry him? Did he find out that Gramps passed away ages ago and is regretting all the years he spent away from Gran?

And then another thought pops up, this one worse than all the rest. Gramps died just before Bea’s parents, which meant Gran was a free agent… until she had to take over caring for Bea.

Oh, God, Bea thinks.

Did I keep Gran away from her true love for 25 years?

Bea shakes off the question, for the moment, at least, and unfolds the remaining letter, keenly aware that it is about to turn her life upside down.

   Two - Niall

It’s a strange thing, how you can go from being engaged one moment to being completely unengaged the next. Engaged, and then you’re not. Your whole life planned out, and then—nothing. Blissful, empty, beautiful nothing. 

Rhiannon had gone from Niall’s favorite person on earth to his least favorite overnight. Or maybe it wasn’t overnight: he didn’t wake up, feel the sun breaking through the blinds, and realize that he needed to break off his engagement. But it only took a second for Rhiannon to react to the suggestion that maybe getting married wasn’t the best idea, and Niall knew he’d made the right choice. 

“Oh, thank God,” she’d said. They were having dinner at their favorite restaurant in Seven Dials, which was to say, Rhiannon’s favorite restaurant and a place that Niall had neither particularly negative or positive feelings about. She’d started telling people it was their favorite restaurant, and then it became too late to correct her, and now they’d been going there at least once a month since the early days of their relationship. 

Niall didn’t intend to initiate the breakup there, at their so-called favorite restaurant, but he was watching Rhiannon peruse the menu just as he had the month before, and he knew she was only moments away from ordering for him, and in his mind he imagined doing this for the rest of his life, and he knew he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

And Rhiannon had reacted better than expected. She’d always been a bit of a dramatic person, so he’d been prepared for her to throw down her fork and storm out, or at least raise her voice a bit. But instead she thanked him. 

“I’ve been meaning to say something for ages!” she’d said. “But you know how my mum is. Which is why we can’t tell anyone.” 

“I—what?” Niall had been reasonably confused. The whole point of ending their engagement was so they didn’t have to still be engaged. He did not want to pretend. 

“Our Italy trip. My mum’s already paid for it, and if we tell her we broke up, she’ll cancel the whole thing, and you know how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Right. Niall knew. She talked about it constantly, was constantly texting him pictures of places she wanted to see and restaurants she wanted to try. He was not looking forward to three weeks of following her around a country where he didn’t speak the language, eating too many carbs. 

But as he’d looked in her eyes that night, the night that should’ve been their last together, he figured he could do her this one last favor. He could stick it out for another month, spend three weeks with her in Italy and then be done with it. 

So that’s how he’d ended up here, sitting on a bench in a square in Verona, staring up at a balcony purported to be the one from Shakespeare’s famous Romeo and Juliet, even though Shakespeare never even traveled to Italy. Rhiannon ditched him this morning, boarding a bus for a wine tour in the countryside that he had absolutely no interest in. Instead, he caught a walking tour and ended up here. 

This bench is apparently his new home, as he’s been here for three hours and, try as he might, he just can’t get himself to move. He’s fascinated by what he is seeing: girl after girl, and even the occasional guy, shoving letters into the loose bricks under the balcony, tears running down their faces. The tour guide had said that people came here from all over the world to leave letters to Juliet, begging her to fix their love woes. 

A while ago, someone had left a notepad on Niall’s bench after finishing their own letter, and someone else had discarded a pen on the ground. Niall had spent half an hour staring at it, feeling as if it was beckoning him. No one needs love advice more than him right now. He’s probably the only one in this country on vacation with their ex-fiancée and zero desire to win her back.

Now, finally, he stills the pen after spending twenty minutes spinning it between his fingers, and he begins to write. 

Dear Juliet,

No offense, but I think your story is a load of bull. Love isn’t real, and it certainly wasn’t real for you and Romeo. You were only 14 years old, and neither of you made it out alive. That certainly isn’t the kind of love I want. 

So what do I want? I’m not sure, but I know it isn’t Rhiannon. I thought I loved her once, but I know better now. I know that I just wanted to be in love. I just wanted someone to spend evenings on the couch with, to go to the cinema with, to introduce to my mates. Rhiannon was all of those things, but she was also annoying and difficult and after a while, not very much fun to be around. She made me forget what I once liked about myself. 

Is that what love is, then? Someone who makes the things you like about yourself shine like neon? Someone who brings out the best in you, like they say in all the films? 

Does such a thing exist? I guess I’ll just have to keep looking. 

-- Niall Horan

London, England

When he finishes, he folds it up before he can think better of it and approaches the wall, looking for a good spot to stick it. It’s nearing sunset, and the wall is bursting with letters shoved here and there, crammed into every visible crack. If he can’t find room for his, how will anyone who came tomorrow find a place for theirs? 

He turns, looking at the other visitors to the wall. A few feet away, a teenager presses a kiss to her envelope before jamming it underneath a loose brick. Further down, a woman takes a letter from the wall and drops it in a basket. Wait—she’s taking a letter from the wall? Niall inches closer.

Yep, that’s definitely what she’s doing. She stretches onto her tiptoes to grab a letter just above her head, and when she can’t quite reach it, Niall steps forward to pluck it from the brick for her. 

“Grazie,” she says, smiling at him and holding out her hand for the letter. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Niall says. He holds the letter hostage for a second, though. “Are you stealing the letters?” 

The woman laughs. “Stealing? No, of course not. We write back.” 

“You write back?” Niall turns his own letter over in his hand and considers throwing it away. He didn’t realize someone would read it. 

“Yes.” The woman slips her basket over her arm and holds out her hand. “I’m Sonia.” 

“Niall.” She reminds him a bit of his mum, with soft smile lines around her mouth and light eyes. That must be why he returns her handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Niall,” Sonia says. “Would you like to help?”

Would I like to help? Niall repeats the question in his mind. On the one hand, he’s absolutely shit when it comes to love—the letter he’s hiding behind his back right now is proof enough of that—but on the other hand, he doesn’t have anything else to do. 

“Sure,” he says. “I’d love to help.” 

   Three - Bea

Verona is full to the brim with tourists, something Bea should’ve been expecting. She’d deluded herself into thinking that since it wasn’t Florence or Rome or Venice, it’d be quieter, she’d be able to wander the streets and appreciate the cobblestones and worn door knockers without bumping into American tourists, but she was wrong. 

American tourists are everywhere, and Japanese tourists and French tourists and Indian tourists, huge groups of them wearing matching lanyards and giggling as they clog the narrow roads, and Bea regrets this entire trip. 

She’s regretted the decision to come since the word “yes” came out of her mouth, but once she saw Gran's smile, there was no going back. This was something Gran had been waiting years for. 

Not that they’ve talked about that. Bea’s just turned it over and over in her mind, convincing herself that she’s held her Gran back from living a full life with the hot Italian man she loved when she was twenty years old. She can’t begrudge Gran her chance at happiness now. 

“Mi scusi,” Bea mutters, pushing her way through a crowd of American teenagers. She’s just slipped out of lunch with Gran, telling her she was running into a store they’d passed to get a gift for her boss, and her time is limited. Now she’s going to have to do what she intends and duck into a store for a gift in the time it would take to do only the latter. 

The alleyway ahead is crowded, which is a good indication that Bea is approaching her target: the house where the women who respond to Juliet’s letters meet. After reading the letter in the envelope and agreeing to Gran’s insane Italy plan, Bea had done a quick Google search, just to understand what she was dealing with. 

From what she found online, the letter writers seem harmless, for the most part—just middle-aged and older women who like indulging the whims of lovesick teenagers. Teenagers being the key word. Gran isn’t a teenager, though—she’s a grown woman with disposable income and the ability to pick up her life and bloody move to Italy if she so chooses—and Bea needs to let these letter writers know just how much damage they’ve done. 

Particularly N. Nancy? Natalia? Nicola? Bea will waste no time finding out when she arrives. N is the one who answered Gran’s letter, encouraging her to abandon her life and seek out her lost love, potentially setting herself up for heartbreak. Heartbreak again, because her heart was already broken once, 55 years ago, when she returned to England to marry Bea’s grandfather instead of running away with Alessandro. 

What if’s are dangerous things, N had written, suggesting that it was better to avoid them at all, if one could help it. It was better to go after the things you wanted, even if those things might end up disappointing you.

This is not, suffice it to say, Bea’s life philosophy.

Bea passes the courtyard where all the tourists are gathering beneath Juliet’s balcony and makes a left. There is so much potential chaos ahead, so Bea rolls her shoulders back and focuses on the things she can control. First on the list, giving this N a piece of her mind. 

At the end of the alleyway, Bea stops in front of the door that has a knocker shaped like an envelope. She’d read a description of it online, but there weren’t any photos: the letter writers like the anonymity, she gathered, of having a headquarters with no address. Bea smiles, proud of herself for locating it, and knocks. 

A second later, the door opens, revealing a woman with dark hair and pasta sauce on her apron. “Bonjourno?”

“Hello,” Bea says, playing the odds that this woman speaks English. She grabs the letter out of the back pocket of her shorts and holds it up. “I’m looking for the writer of this letter.” 

“Hmm.” The woman frowns and holds her hand out for the letter. 

Bea hesitates. What if the woman doesn’t give it back? What if she destroys it because Bea’s breaking some unspoken rule by coming here? Maybe Bea shouldn’t hand it over. 

“It’s alright,” the woman says, seeming to sense Bea’s reluctance. “I’ll just look at the signature, and then you can have it back.”

Bea nods, handing it over. 

“Ah,” the woman says a second later, returning the letter to Bea. “He’s here today, actually. You’re in luck. Please, come in.”

He? But Bea doesn’t have time to think it through as she follows the woman into the house. They pass through a narrow corridor and emerge into a dining room, where ten people sit around a table covered in letters. Piles of letters, baskets full of letters, letters everywhere. It reminds Bea of that scene in “Harry Potter” when Harry’s letters from Hogwarts burst through the fireplace. It’s complete chaos.

“Niall, she’s here for you,” the woman says. A man with dark hair seated at the far end of the table looks up. 

“For me?” he says, standing up and walking towards her. He has some kind of ridiculous, cartoon character accent.

“You?” Bea stares at him. This is impossible. This entire thing is impossible. It’s a dream, this all has to be a dream, that’s the only reasonable explanation. She clutches the letter in front of her like she’s warding off a demon. “You wrote this letter?”

Niall nods. He’s taller than her and wearing khaki pants, which, she decides, is the strangest thing about him, the whole writing-letters-with-old-Italian-ladies thing notwithstanding. An Irish, khaki pants-wearing, letter-writing, heart-breaking demon.

“I did,” he says. “But I take it you’re not the recipient?” 

“Of course not,” Bea says roughly. “I’m her granddaughter whose life has just been entirely upended because of this letter, because my Gran has dragged me all the way to bloody Italy to try to find this bloke she loved 55 years ago, who might not even still be alive, and it’s your fault!” 

Said bloke, instead of taking responsibility for his actions, smiles at her. He fucking smiles at her. 

“Carolyn is here?” he says. “That’s excellent. Can I meet her?” 

That is so not what Bea was expecting to hear, so it takes her a moment and a bit of sputtering to muster a sensible response. “No, of course not. Absolutely not. That is not happening.” 

“Okay,” Niall says, nodding slowly, his smile lessening slightly. “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you, then. It was nice to meet you.”

“It wasn’t nice to meet you!” Bea snaps before turning and rushing from the building before she can say anything else. 

Jesus H. Christ, she thinks as she reenters the alleyway and slides around another group of tourists. Could she have been any more embarrassing? She’d had a whole speech planned out—she was going to tell the letter writer, who, yes, she’d assumed would be a woman, how irresponsible it was to respond to a letter from 55 years ago, knowing it was possible and even likely that she’d be upsetting the balance of someone’s life. She was going to lay it out simply and with such biting and intelligent language that the letter writer would be begging at her feet for forgiveness by the end of it. 

Instead, she’d responded with a comeback worthy of a ten year old on a playground and run away in shame. 

Best not dwell on it. Next mission: buy the first tacky gift she sees and get back to lunch. 

Seven minutes later, snow globe bagged in her hand, Bea slides back into the chair across from her grandmother. 

“Sorry about that,” she says, over-exaggerating her breathing to make it seem like she’d hurried back. “The line was crazy! This was the perfect gift, though, so I couldn’t let it get away.” 

“Of course, dear,” Gran says. “I ordered dessert while you were gone. I got you tiramisu.” 

“Thanks, Gran.” Bea smiles. Good old Gran, always taking care of her. Even now that she’s a full-grown adult, capable of ordering her own food and embarrassing herself in front of strangers all by herself, her Gran is still helping her along. “After lunch, do you want to—”

“Carolyn?” 

Bea whips her head around and, oh, crud, he’s followed her. He strides up to their table like he’s been invited and extends a hand to Gran. 

“I’m Niall,” he says. “I wrote the letter.”

“Oh!” Gran grabs his hand and uses it to pull herself to her feet, though Bea isn’t sure that’s what he intended. “It’s so nice to meet you! Thank you so much for your letter! Please join us.”

“Are you sure?” Niall says, putting a hand on the back of the empty chair. He looks at Bea, an eyebrow raised. “Bea invited me, but I really don’t want to intrude.” 

Bea raises an eyebrow right back. The nerve of him, this Irish bloke with bright blue eyes and the audacity to upend her grandmother’s life and butt in on their lunch. How rude. How inconvenient. How inconvenient and rude. 

“You’re not intruding. Please, sit!”

“Thank you!” He sits down right next to Bea as Gran flags over the waitress and orders three cups of hot tea. Niall will probably drink his, the bastard. 

   Four - Niall

An hour later, Niall has the full story and plans for at least the next two days. Caro, as she likes to be called, invites him to join her and her granddaughter on their Alessandro hunt, and who is Niall to refuse? Especially when it seems to be driving Caro’s granddaughter—Bea is her name—so crazy. 

It’s been a long time since Niall’s had the pleasure of annoying a beautiful woman, and he’s not about to pass up an opportunity to continue doing so. 

“You’re sure you don’t have other plans?” Bea asks for the third time, her voice so high-pitched that Niall wonders if she’s stopped breathing. 

“No, definitely not,” Niall says, taking a sip of the tea that Caro ordered for him. Very polite, she is. “My, um, fiancée is off on a wine tour for the next few days, so I’m free.” 

“You’re in Italy with your fiancée and you want to spend your vacation going on a snipe hunt with us across the whole countryside?” 

Caro laughs. “You’re so dramatic, Bea Bug. It’s hardly the whole countryside, just one region. And a snipe hunt, what nonsense!” 

Niall grins. He likes Caro; she has a pleasant voice and speaks warmly, as if it’s a pleasure to be listened to. “I’d love to join, if you’ll both have me.” 

“I don’t think—”

Caro cuts Bea off. “Of course we will. It will be our pleasure.” 

“It will be my pleasure,” Niall says. Bea scoffs. 

Back at his hotel room that evening, Niall waits for Rhiannon to return from today’s food tour with a ball of anxiety swirling around his stomach. This is something he probably should’ve discussed with her before he agreed to it, right? Or maybe not. Now that they’re no longer engaged, they don’t have to clear things with each other anymore. Niall can do what he wants, when he wants. He can make decisions for himself without considering how they’ll impact anyone else.

So it’s a force of habit, then, that has him sitting in the armchair next to their bed—the bed they’re sharing, though it feels more like sleeping next to a friend than an ex-lover—and picking at his cuticles. He keeps glancing at the door, waiting for the moment Rhiannon is going to burst through. She’ll have acquired at least two bottles of wine on her bus tour, a slight sunburn on the tip of her nose, and, he’d bet 10 quid, plans for dinner with a new American friend.

Twenty minutes later, there she is, red-faced and smiling, exactly as he expected.

“Oh, Niall, you weren’t waiting for me, would you?” she says, setting her bags down on the bed. “I’ve got plans with my new American mate for dinner. We’re absolutely dying to try this place near the Piazza delle Erbe. I hope that’s alright? You can come with us, if you’d like.” 

“That’s okay,” Niall says. “Actually, Rhi, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sure.” Rhiannon flips open her suitcase and begins digging through it, throwing a pair of shoes on the floor, and then another. She’s looking for a particular dress, he expects, one that will show her new American friend just how London cool she is. “What’s up?”

Niall contemplates how to explain. Best to keep things as simple as possible, he reckons. “I met some people today and they invited me to travel with them for a couple of days.”

“Hmm?” Rhiannon finds the dress she was searching for and smiles at it triumphantly before picking up her makeup bag. “A few days? That sounds nice. Travel where?” 

“Around Verona, to some of the vineyards and smaller towns.” That sounds truthful enough, doesn’t it? There’s no need to mention Caro or the letter or Juliet’s balcony, and there especially isn’t any need to mention Bea, the granddaughter whose sass and long legs make Niall’s blood boil. 

“Sounds like fun,” Rhiannon says. She looks up from her makeup bag, a tube of mascara in her hand, and smiles at him. Crazy how that smile used to make him smile in return, and now it does nothing to him. “Teresa, that’s my new American mate, wants to take the train out to Venice for a day or two. Should we touch base in a few days?”

“Oh,” Niall says, feeling strangely hurt by this information. He’d expected Rhiannon to be upset, or at least slightly inconvenienced by the plans he’d made that did not involve her, and instead, here she is, with Niall-less plans of her own. Would she have even told him about her plans if he hadn’t brought up his first? He doubts it. 

As soon as they’d landed in Italy, Rhiannon had taken off her engagement ring, sealing it into the inner pocket of her makeup bag. 

“I’ll give it back to you when we have our staged breakup, when we get back home,” she’d told him. 

Some bit of Niall, some deep, ego-driven bit of his soul, had been hoping that Rhiannon was using this trip as a ruse to win him back. She didn’t want to break up, not really, so she conned him into coming on the trip with her so she could prance around in skimpy summer wear and lure him into loving her again. 

He didn’t want to love her again, of course, but part of him, that ugly, prideful part, wanted her to want him to lover her again.

It didn’t make any sense, he knew that, and it wasn’t until Rhiannon took off her ring that he realized he was being tremendously silly. But part of him still aches, even now, a week later. 

A breakup is a rejection, even a mutual breakup. As Niall was rejecting Rhiannon, she was rejecting him right back, and part of him, though he’s loath to admit it, is hurt by that. This conversation has just reinforced those feelings.

“Sure,” Niall says, attempting to shake off the emotion welling in the back of his throat. “We’ll touch base in a few days. I’m leaving in the morning, so you can check out of the hotel whenever you’d like.” 

Rhiannon smiles. “Thanks for being so understanding about all this, Ni,” she says. “Coming on the trip and everything. You really didn’t have to do all this for me.” 

Niall shrugs. “I’d be crazy to turn down a free trip to Italy.”

   Five - Bea

“He should be here any minute, dear.”

Bea looks up from her phone and resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Great,” she says. “I’m eager to get on the road.” 

Eager is a bit of an exaggeration. Bea knows she would’ve been crazy to pass up a trip to Italy, even a trip with her grandmother, but this is far from ideal. Their travel companion is as far from ideal as one could get. 

But this matters to her grandmother, so Bea will suck it up, put her best face forward, and pretend she likes the Irish bloke. 

Well, she’ll at least pretend to tolerate him. 

As they wait, Bea begins to develop a list of things that she doesn’t like about Niall, just to fill the time. First, he doesn’t care about anyone aside from himself: he didn’t give a thought to how his letter would cause upheaval to Gran’s life (or the lives of those around her) before he wrote it. Second, he hides his evil tendencies under a charming appearance, complete with sweet blue eyes and a homey accent and well-fitted shirts. Gran, bless her heart, will never discover just how disingenuous he really is. 

But Bea knows. And, she decides, it will be her mission on this trip to make sure that Gran realizes it. 

She’ll have to do it subtly, though. Very subtly—no big speeches or yelling, or Gran will realize what Bea’s trying to do, and she will not be pleased. She’ll pull Bea aside and scold her just like she did when Bea was a child on the playground, cutting other little kids in the queue for the swings.

“Oh, there he is!” Gran says now. “Beatrix, look!” Niall is climbing out of a taxi at the end of the hotel’s round driveway. He accepts his bag from the driver in exchange for a couple of folded bills and steps out of the way so the car can leave. 

Bea considers him as he pauses and adjusts the roll of his shirtsleeves—they’re cuffed just above his elbows, which is definitely not attractive in any way—before he grabs his duffle bag off the ground, swings it over his shoulder, and turns towards the building. Even the way he walks is infuriating, all jovial, like he doesn’t have anywhere he’d rather be.

Bea can think of a thousand places she’d rather be.

Gran waves instantly. “Niall! Over here!” 

Bea forces a smile onto her face as he approaches. He’s smiling too, though it dulls significantly when his eyes meet hers. 

Go away, she attempts to communicate through her glare alone.

Over my dead body, she imagines his glare answering.

“Good morning, Caro, Bea,” he says. “Are you two ready to go?” 

“Yes, certainly,” Gran says. “We’re so excited to have you joining us. Bea will drive. Bea, can you help Niall with his bag?” 

“Of course—”

“That’s not—”

Bea and Niall speak at the same time, meeting each other’s eyes in a staring contest of wills that ends when Niall looks away and picks up his bag. 

“Pop the trunk, would you please, Bea?” he asks. 

Bea grits her teeth and complies. This is going to be a long, long few days.

Five minutes later, they’re all in the car, Gran and Niall chatting as Bea tries not to grip the steering wheel too tightly. Driving has never been easy for Bea. She’s always worried about what the other drivers are going to do. Will someone merge into her lane without signaling, leaving her little time to brake or merge out of their way? Will someone run a red and bash into her car? There are so many things that can go wrong, and none of them are in her control. 

Which is why Bea has remained in London, even as so many of her mates moved out to the suburbs. In London, you don’t need to drive. You take the Tube or an Uber or a taxi to get where you want to go, and you never have to worry about having enough petrol or parking illegally by accident and getting a ticket. 

Driving in Verona is nearly as bad, or maybe worse, than driving in London, Bea decides as yet another taxi driver forces his way in front of her car. She grits her teeth again; her dentist is not going to be happy with her. 

“Macbeth is my favorite,” Niall is saying, and, were Bea less focused on the road, she would pipe up to tell him how wrong he is (Hamlet is obviously Shakespeare’s best work), but as it is, there’s nothing she can do. She comes to a stop at a red light and forces herself to take a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. 

“Make a left at the next signal,” the Apple Maps robot voice chirps from her phone, which is clipped to a vent on the dashboard. 

Fuck you, Bea thinks, gritting her teeth. She can see the next intersection, and a left turn there isn’t going to be easy. Protected lefts do not, apparently, exist in this country. The light changes and Bea eases into the intersection. The car in front of her appears to be looking for a parking space, but the entire block is packed on both sides of the street.

“Gah,” she huffs, letting out a breath. 

“Don’t forget to turn left up ahead, Bea bug,” Gran says.

“Got it, Gran.”

Bea takes another calming breath, but she feels anything but calm.

   Six - Niall

Bea is the most tense driver Niall has ever witnessed, but that shouldn’t surprise him, considering how tense she is as a human being just existing. They’ve only been in the car half an hour, but from the looks she’s sending him in the rearview mirror, he’s sure she’s thought about ways to kill him at least half a dozen times.

Before they got in the car, when he pulled her aside so he could tell her the address of their first Alessandro, she looked at him like she wanted to murder him. Not just murder him, but chop him into tiny pieces and scatter him about the Italian countryside.

If Caro wasn’t in the car as well, he’d probably already be dead. She’d flip the car off the side of the road and land them in a field full of grazing cattle, where, if he by some miracle didn’t die in the crash, he would be licked to death by cows. 

“What was it you studied in uni, dear?” Caro asks him, drawing his attention away from Bea, who absolutely doesn’t care what he studied in uni. 

“Political science,” he says. “But I’m a journalist now.” 

Bea scoffs. “Of course you are,” she says quietly. 

Caro either doesn’t hear or decides to pretend that she didn’t. “That’s wonderful. What do you write?” 

“Human interest, mostly,” Niall says, which is the simplest way of saying, I spent six months shadowing a homeless encampment on the South Bank last year. “My last piece was published in The Guardian, but I freelance.”

“Oh, how freeing!” Caro exclaims. “Bea, you should consider that. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have no boss? No schedule! You could have as many vacation days as you wanted! And no one would shake his finger at you and tell you to work harder.”

Niall tries not to smile as Bea’s grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“Gran,” she says, her annoyance obvious to Niall, but Caro keeps on smiling. “I don’t think you can teach primary school from your sitting room.”

“Oh, poo,” Caro says, swatting her hand in Bea’s direction. “I’ve always told you that you can do anything you set your mind to, Bea bug.”

Bea bug? There’s a lot to grab onto in what’s just been said, but Niall’s not an idiot; he knows that teasing Bea about her Gran’s nickname for her would not be the smartest move right now. She is in control of the car, after all. So he goes for the second lowest hanging fruit.

“You teach primary school?” he asks, trying and failing to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Her glare in the rearview mirror nearly burns him alive. “Yes,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m goddamn delightful.”

Niall can’t hold back his laughter at that. “I’m sure you are.”

“All of the children love her,” Caro says, turning in her seat slightly to look at Niall head-on. She’s apparently missed the hint of sarcasm in his last statement. “She sings the sweetest songs for them. I knew those piano lessons would pay off someday, but I certainly didn’t imagine Bea would use her talents to entertain five year olds.”

“They’re seven, Gran,” Bea corrects.

Caro waves a hand and continues. “You’ve a beautiful voice nonetheless, dear. You really do spoil those children. Perhaps we can convince you do sing for us tonight after dinner.”

Niall looks from the pride on Caro’s face back to Bea, who looks more annoyed than she has all afternoon. Her grandmother goes on and on about how all the parents positively adore her and how Caro knew she was destined to be a teacher since she was a child herself, and Bea seethes.

She’s seething. That’s the only way he can think to describe the way she keeps her eyes steady on the road and her grip tight on the steering wheel and a perpetual frown on her mouth. His gaze traces the slope of her sharp nose and the indent of her cheek that suggests, were she to smile, a real smile, she might have a dimple.

Dimples. On this girl. This stubborn, tempestuous, argumentative, always frowning girl. Preposterous.

Dimples, he supposes, would make her almost appealing.

But as of now, she’s nothing but a nuisance. She probably thinks the same of him, though, he supposes. As Caro continues to sing Bea’s praises, much to Bea’s chagrin, Niall reaches into his backpack and pulls out the notebook where he’s made some notes about the mysterious Alessandro Bianchi. Based on Caro’s letter and some details she’s filled in for him, he has determined the following:

1. Alessandro would be about 80 years old now, as he’s a few years older than Caro.

2. He is likely still in the Veneto region of Italy, as when Caro knew him, he was set to inherit the family lands and winery.

3. He rides horses.

4. He is, in Caro’s words, “the handsomest man I’d ever set my eyes on.”

It’s not a lot to go on, and there are some major issues. The Veneto region first of all, is massive: nearly 5 million people live there, and it stretches all the way north to the Austrian border. Niall’s hopeful Alessandro is still in the province of Verona, a much smaller area that only has a million people.

That’s still a million people to sort through, though. From some database searches on his laptop last night, Niall turned up a list of Alessandro Bianchi’s from that million and then narrowed down by age. His smaller list contains 50 names, smaller in comparison but still a huge number when one is driving around the country going door to door.

There has to be some way to narrow the names further. Niall pulls out the list, which he printed in the hotel business center, and, when there’s a lull in the conversation, passes it up to Caro.

“This are the Alessandro Bianchi’s I’ve found,” he says. “I know the list is long, so I’m hoping you know something else that can help us narrow it down.”

Bea glances sideways as Caro examines the list. Niall’s distracted by her mouth, which has morphed from a frown into something sadder, more regretful. Intriguing.

What’s she hiding? he thinks.

But that’s not a question for now.

“Does anything stand out to you?” he asks Caro. She slides her reading glasses up her nose and moves the paper closer to her face. “Anyone look familiar?”

After a moment, she shakes her head. “I don’t suppose this list comes with photos?”

“Unfortunately not,” Niall says. “It’s a combination of property ownership and voter registration, but it’s not one hundred percent reliable, since people move and don’t change the address on their licenses and such.” 

“Of course,” Caro says. She lowers the paper to her lap and pulls her glasses down, allowing them to hang around her neck. “It was rather silly of me to expect this to be easy, wasn’t it?”

“No—” Niall begins, but Bea cuts him off.

“You’re not being silly at all, Gran,” Bea says. She reaches across the center console to take Caro’s hand. “Alessandro is important to you, so we will find him. With or without Niall’s help.”

“Thank you, dear,” Caro says, squeezing Bea’s hand. “But since we’ve got him here with us, we should absolutely take advantage of Niall’s help. He is a journalist, dear, don’t forget.”

Niall is certain that his occupation has done nothing to endear him to her, if the look Bea gives him in the rearview mirror is anything to go by.

“Take the next exit,” the GPS chirps, drawing Bea’s attention away. He misses the fire in her gaze immediately, and that unwelcome realization occupies his mind for several minutes—seriously, what the fuck, brain—until the car turns up a winding dirt road and comes to a stop in front of a cute, if modest, country house.

“This is the first address,” Bea says, voice completely devoid of excitement.

   Seven - Bea

“This is the first address,” Bea says, but what she’s thinking is, this cannot be the first address.

The house is, she supposes, cute enough, but it’s run-down. It hasn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades, the steps leading up to the porch are crumbling, and the house’s facade is covered in overgrown vines, the kind that slither in cracks in the plaster and make their way into the pipes and destroy everything.

“Let’s get out, then,” Niall says, already opening his door and climbing out of the backseat. He opens Gran’s door for her and helps her out, so Bea has no choice but to follow. She pockets the car keys and follows them up to the front steps.

“Should we knock?” Gran asks, looking from Bea to Niall and back to Bea. Bea can see a bit of nervousness in her gran’s face, and a hint of timidness. It’s strange, seeing it there; it’s not an emotion Gran normally expresses. Gran is always in control, taking the lead, charging headfirst into battle, Bea trailing behind her. That’s how they ended up in Italy, .

But right now, it seems like Gran needs Bea to take the lead. So she steps forward, planting herself between Niall and Gran, and puts a hand on Gran’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do, Gran?” she says in a tone she hopes is gentle and encouraging. She squeezes Gran’s bony shoulder and tries not to think about how much of Gran’s life she’s spent alone, dreaming of her lost love. “Do you want us to knock?” 

Gran’s hand drifts to her neck, her fingers playing with her necklace. It’s a thin gold chain, gifted to her, Bea knows, by her husband, Bea’s grandfather, who died before Bea’s parents did. She wonders what Gran is thinking. Is she concerned about being unfaithful to her deceased husband? Is she regretting her marriage to someone who wasn’t Alessandro entirely? Or is she simply nervous about the possibility of seeing Alessandro again after so much time has passed?

“Gran,” Bea says again. “We can stay here as long as you need.”

Bea can feel Niall’s eyes on her, but she ignores him. He shouldn’t even be here; he’s intruding on a private family moment, no matter what Gran says to the contrary. But at least he’s smart enough to be keeping his mouth shut right now.

“No, that’s alright,” Gran says, dropping her hand from her necklace and shaking her head. “I’m being silly. We came all this way, and it’s probably not him. We’ll have wasted a trip if we don’t find out for sure.”

Bea looks up, toward the front door, but on the way, her gaze runs into Niall’s. He’s frowning slightly, like he’s confused. She wrinkles her nose at him, and he grins. If he weren’t so annoying, it might be cute. He might be cute.

“Okay, Gran,” Bea says, slipping her hand into Gran’s for a squeeze. “Let’s go, then?”

“Let’s go,” Gran repeats. She takes a step, then hesitates. “Niall, will you do the honors?”

“Me?” Niall meets Bea’s eyes, his eyebrows raised, but she’s just as surprised as he is. Niall is a guest here—and barely that. He’s an interloper. But Gran wants what Gran wants. Bea shrugs.

Bea watches with bated breath as Niall climbs the battered steps to the house and knocks on the door—twice, and then a third time, louder. She counts the seconds, waiting.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Finally, the door opens.

The man is backlit by the sun as he steps outside, so it takes a minute before she can see him fully. Dark mustache, suspenders over his shoulders, tan shirt, and a face that’s much, much too young. He can’t be Gran’s Alessandro.

Gran asks anyway, though, drawing on her rusty Italian to ask for Alessandro Bianchi. The man shakes his head.

“It’s not him,” Gran says quietly, tugging on Bea’s sleeve. “He says no one with that name has lived here for years. Decades.”

Bea looks back at the man, who is standing on his front porch looking irritated, like the knock on his door has interrupted his entire day.

“Grazie, signore,” she says, allowing Gran to tug her back to the car, Niall following behind.

As she starts up the car and waits for Gran and Niall to decide where they’re headed next, Bea analyzes her feelings. Annoyance, of course, at Niall for being present, and a smidge at Gran for dragging her all the way out here. Frustration at the poor infrastructure of Italy’s backcountry roads. And—wait, is that disappointment?

Yes, Bea admits to herself. It sucks to strike out this early in the game. It sucks that Gran has spent so many years without Alessandro, and now she’ll have to wait even longer to find him. And what if they never find him? How long will they keep looking? How long will Niall follow them around the country, riding in the backseat and running new Google searches to grow their list of possibles?

Bea looks at Gran, who has pulled her gray hair back in a low ponytail at the nape of her neck to get it out of the way while she compares Niall’s list with a paper map. Gran, who has weathered so many storms. Gran, who has carried Bea through the worst of them.

Gran, who has bounced back from this disappointment like it was nothing.

So Bea will do the same. She will put on a brave face and input the next address Niall gives her into the GPS app, and she will force herself to be hopeful that this Alessandro will be the one they’re looking for.

And if that one’s not him, she’ll hope the same for the next Alessandro.

And the one after that.

   Eight - Niall

After they scratch three possible Alessandros off the list, they stop for the night at a boutique winery hotel buried in a valley. It’s dark by the time Bea parks the car, but Niall expects that the surrounding countryside will be beautiful in the morning. Maybe he’ll wake up early and watch the sunrise, notebook and pen in hand, knowing he’ll never have words enough to describe its beauty. Back in college, he took a poetry class and tried his hand at some sonnets, but it was never really his thing.

Maybe now it will be, though. He’s only been in Italy a week and a half, and he’s already done things he never expected to do. Write a letter to a fictional character, for example, and join a girl and her grandmother in the search for a long-lost love.He’s been surprising himself for a while, actually, ever since he made the decision to end his relationship with Rhiannon.

Rhiannon. As Niall unloads the bags from the car, he wonders what she’s doing right now, who she’s spending her time with. Rhiannon has never had trouble making friends, and neither has Niall. That’s one of the reasons they were so good together. At least, that’s what he used to think. He also used to think that any time spent away from Rhiannon was wasted time, but now he knows better.

Today was not wasted, despite three failed attempts to find Caro’s Alessandro. The first man was too young and not named Alessandro anyway, the second man was far too old, and the third was a woman who was completely aghast to find out that she was misnamed and misgendered in the census data. Caro kept in good spirits, always positive in the car, but Niall could tell that her energy was waning. And Bea, meanwhile, was growing more and more annoyed with every grape vine they passed.

Now, as Niall walks the ladies to their rooms, it’s obvious that Bea is ready to be rid of him. Caro hugs both him and Bea goodnight outside her room, whispering, “thank you for being here” in Niall’s ear before she lets him go. Bea takes off down the hall, clearly in disagreement with the sentiment.

“I told you I could carry my own bag,” Bea scoffs when Niall reaches her door. He rolls her suitcase to a stop and chuckles as she grabs the handle, eager to have it back in her possession.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help you with your bags?” Niall asks.

“You’re no kind of gentleman.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “I can carry your bag back out to the car, if you’d like. Then you can wheel it in yourself.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Bea huffs. “You’re so infuriating.”

She turns around, sliding her keycard into the door and pushing it open. Niall grabs her suitcase again and passes it to her as she goes into the room. She flips on a lightswitch, illuminating the space behind her, but Niall doesn’t pay any attention. He’s too fixated on Bea’s face.

She has light brown eyes, the color so diluted that he wonders if they might actually be green, or maybe blue. And the sweep of her nose, the pout on her lips as she frowns at him—God, she’s beautiful. She’s the kind of beautiful where it’s not the first thing you notice about her, but once you notice it, you can never stop seeing it. From now on, she’ll be beautiful every time Niall looks at her, every minute he thinks about her, every second he spends looking at her from the backseat of the rental car.

“Thanks for the help, I guess,” she says to him now, one hand on the door handle.

“You’re welcome,” he says. He steps forward without thinking, needing to be closer to her. “I can let you handle your own suitcase next time, though.”

“Thanks for that, too. But I meant, thanks for being here, for helping with Gran. This is really important to her, and I’m grateful to you for taking her seriously and respecting what she wants.”

“Of course,” Niall says. “She’s wonderful. And this is such a great story. Why wouldn’t I want to help her find Alessandro?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m not sure I do, maybe.” Bea looks over his shoulder, not meeting his gaze. This is hard for her to talk about, and it’s probably even harder for her to talk to him about it. “She loved my granddad, I know she did. If she finds Alessandro again, will her love for him cancel out her love for my granddad? And where does that leave me?”

“The same place you’ve always been.”

Bea’s eyes meet his; she’s startled, surprised that he answered her questions. Or maybe surprised that she was speaking out loud in the first place.

“Your gran loves you the same no matter what,” Niall continues. “I can see that every time she looks at you. That’s not going to change, no matter what happens with Alessandro. And her love for Alessandro won’t change how she loved your granddad. Someone can have two great loves in their life, don’t you think?”

It takes Bea a few seconds to respond, like she’s catching up with what he just said. “I don’t know. If that’s true, then what are all the stories and poems about? What’s Romeo and Juliet about?”

Niall asked himself that question days ago, looking up at Juliet’s balcony just like Romeo, except in his reality there was no beautiful young girl standing there, ready to throw away her life of privilege to be with him. Now, looking at Bea, he feels differently.

“That is what it’s about,” he says. “Those questions. How do you know when someone loves you? How do you know you’re worthy of their love, or that their love is going to last? How do you know when to risk your heart?

“Hmm.” Bea’s eyes drop to her shoes. “Sometimes I think it’s better not to try. Too much risk.”

“You know what they say. No risk, no reward.”

Bea goes quiet, and Niall doesn’t know what to say next. So he waits, waits for her to fill the silence. He finds himself reluctant to remove himself from her doorstep, reluctant to go to end this conversation and go to his room and be alone with his thoughts when he could be here, sharing them with her.

“Right,” Bea says abruptly. “As nice as it was talking to you, Niall”—he can tell from her tone that she doesn’t think it was nice at all—“I think it’s time for me to go to bed. We’ve got an early start in the morning.”

“Right.”

“Goodnight, then,” she says.

“Goodnight.”

It’s baffling, really, how quickly his feelings toward her changed, Niall thinks as he looks at her looking at him. Maybe it happened this afternoon, as Bea comforted her disappointed grandmother over and over again. Or maybe it happened even earlier, on their way out of Verona this morning, when she cursed at a taxi driver under her breath.

She’s beautiful, still. Beautiful, again. Beautiful, always.

Damn, this is not what he thought would happen when he agreed to help an old woman track down the man she loved half a century ago.

“Goodnight, Niall,” Bea repeats, staring at him.

“Goodnight,” he says again, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are glued to her face, and he can’t look away. It’s probably starting to get a little bit creepy, but she’s a mystery, and maybe if he looks long enough, he’ll be able to discern some tiny clue.

“You’re blocking my door,” she says, looking, as per usual, less than pleased with him.

Niall practically jumps backwards in an attempt to make space for her. “Right, of course! Sorry about that.”

There’s enough clearance to close the door now, but Bea freezes for a moment, hand on the doorknob, eyes locked on Niall’s.

“Bea?”

“What?” Bea shakes her head, blinking, as if coming out of a daze. “Right. Sorry. Goodnight, Niall.”

Then she shuts the door, leaving Niall standing there, wondering if he’ll ever have words enough to describe her beauty. And how utterly confused she leaves him.

   Nine - Bea

In the morning, Bea wakes up itchy. At first she thinks it’s bedbugs, because that’s what every traveler thinks when they wake up itchy, but this hotel that Gran is paying for is much too nice for bedbugs. They left chocolate on her pillow last night and there are enough towels in the bathroom tokeep her in baths for years to come. Too bad they’re only staying two nights.

Maybe it’s a sunburn, she thinks, trudging to the bathroom and craning her neck to examine her back in the mirror. It’s a bit pink, but certainly not burnt enough to cause the kind of itching she’s feeling. The straps of the tank top she wore yesterday aren’t even outlined.

Something else, then. Maybe she ate something that triggered an allergy. Bea muses on that thought as she brushes her teeth with one hand and scratches her thigh with the other. What’d she eat yesterday? Spaghetti, gelato, a panini, and lots and lots of bread. Nothing too out of the ordinary, no shellfish or undercooked meat or questionable cheese.

Maybe it’s a rogue clothing tag. She slides her pajama shorts off and turns them inside out, hunting for a tiny piece of plastic that might’ve been left behind when she snipped off the price tag. Nothing. There isn’t even a tag with laundry instructions. There’s absolutely nothing there that could be causing that infernal crawling sensation Bea’s feeling all over both legs.

And her back, not to mention her back, where a million tiny spiders are tap-dancing in flip flops, tickling all of her nerve endings and driving her batty.

Bea tosses her toothbrush on the counter and moves to turn on the shower, imagining all of the spiders washing away down the drain. What a way to wake up: in a beautiful hotel room in the beautiful countryside of Italy, itching all over. She hasn’t been itchy like this in years, not since she told her best mate, Theresa, that the boy she liked didn’t like her back, even though he did. Bea liked him too and didn’t want to watch him date her best friend. Rosie saw straight through her lie, as best mates often do, and turned all of their friends against Bea. That was the last time Bea ever got involved in someone else’s romantic life.

Oh, crud. The only thing that makes Bea itchy like this is romance. And, well, lying.

But, lying. She hasn’t told any lies lately, has she? She hasn’t tricked Gran or tried to lure her away from the Alessandro hunt. And she hasn’t lied to Niall about how much she dislikes him or—

Oh, crud. She doesn’t dislike him, does she?

Last night, when Niall walked her to her door and stood there for what felt like hours, staring at her with his piercing blue eyes, there had been a moment, the briefest of seconds, when Bea wondered if he was going to kiss her, and thought that she might like him to. She’d stood there in the open doorway of her hotel room and considered that it might be nice to kiss the cute Irishman who’d given up his vacation to help her gran search for her lost love. In that moment, that brief, endless moment, he’d seemed sweet, genuine, likable, handsome, and exactly the kind of person whom one enjoys kissing.

But then the moment had passed, Bea had shaken herself out of it, and she closed the door on him and his tempting lips and intriguing eyes. Niall is engaged, and, regardless, he’s not the kind of person one has those thoughts about.

Bea’s brain still seems confused about that, though, as it wonders, will his lips look as tempting and his eyes as intriguing at breakfast this morning?

Oh, crud. Bea scratches at her elbow.

The itchiness abates during her shower but then comes back full-force when she meets Gran and Niall at breakfast. She sees them before they see her so she takes a moment to observe before she approaches. They’re seated at a table on the terrace outside the hotel’s restaurant, and Gran’s laughing at something Niall said, her head thrown back and joy clear on her face. Bea longs to hear the joke herself, longs to know this side of Niall, when his humor’s not at her expense, when he’s not teasing her or sending her funny looks via the rearview mirror.

Jesus H. Christ, Bea thinks, shaking herself out of it and approaching the table. Grams barely has time to look up before a waiter appears and pours her a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Beatrix,” Gran says. Bea doesn’t miss Gran’s raised eyebrow over the rim of her own mug. Earl Grey for Gran in the mornings, always.

“Morning, Gran,” Bea says once she’s gulped down a mouthful of coffee. It’s scalding hot and not particularly good, which is a disappointment, but not one worth dwelling on when one is as itchy as Bea is. “Morning, Niall.”

“Bea,” he says, nodding at her. There’s a slight twinkle in his eye and Bea imagines it saying, I know you wanted me to kiss you last night. It makes her right knee itch. The fact that that’s the closest knee to Niall is of no consequence.

She looks away from him and grabs a menu, flipping it open. The entire thing is in Italian, which is fine for a dinner menu but a lot more complicated for breakfast. “I think I’d like an omelette today. Do they have omelettes in Italy? What’s the Italian word for egg?”

Neither Niall nor Gran answer right away, so Bea keeps on. “Pane, that’s bread, right? I know that word. What’s the Italian for bacon?”

“It’s bacon,” Niall says. When Bea meets his gaze, he’s smiling at her, a hint of a laugh lingering on the corner of his mouth. Gran is smiling, too.

“What?” Bea asks, looking from one to the other. “Do I have toothpaste on my face?”

Niall drops his eyes to his plate, but Gran doesn’t look away, so Bea narrows in on her. Gran has never been able to keep anything from her—except Alessandro, of course, but Bea doesn’t want to think about that right now—so Bea knows that if she stares long enough, Gran will buckle.

It doesn’t seem to work this time though, as Gran drops the smile into a concerned frown. “No, dear,” she says. “But I’m glad to hear you brushed your teeth.”

Niall snickers, and suddenly Bea hates him again, but her right wrist won’t stop itching.

Why was it that she liked him? All the reasons have disappeared as she finishes her breakfast and listens as Gran and Niall go over their agenda for the day. There are four Alessandros on today’s list and a short lunch break scheduled for the afternoon.

In the car, Bea takes the wheel again, Gran in the passenger’s seat and Niall in the back. Once they’re out on the main road, Alessandro’s address plugged into Apple Maps, Niall pulls out his notebook and begins scribbling away.

The back of Bea’s neck itches as she wonders what he’s writing. Is it a personal journal entry in which he’s describing how he almost kissed her last night? Or is it a draft of a novel, the story of lovers separated by centuries only to find themselves together again? If it’s the latter, she’s not sure how Gran would feel about becoming the heroine of a novel. Niall definitely should’ve asked first.

She’s still annoyed at him over that possibility when she finally asks, several ,minutes later, “What are you writing?”

It takes a minute for Niall to look up and meet her gaze in the rearview mirror. “It’s not done yet,” he says with a shrug.

“Okay, but what’s it about?” Bea presses. “Is it nonfiction? Fiction? Are you writing poetry?”

There’s a gleam in Niall’s eyes as he mimes zipping his lips and throwing an invisible key over his shoulder.

Bea huffs and turns her focus back to the road. On either side of the road are endless vineyards stretching as far as the eye can see. Every once in a while, there’s a barn or a house or a man on horseback, a copse of trees, a hill, but it’s mostly vine after vine after vine. Finally, finally, they turn onto a side road and head toward the residence of the first Alessandro.

Let this one be him, Bea prays. Let this one be him, and let him be married, so I can go back to my life as it was and forget any of this ever happened.

But then, what about Gran? Bea considers the ideal outcome for Gran. Maybe Alessandro is a widower, living alone on his vineyards, waiting for his lost love to return to him. He and Gran will marry and she’ll stay in Italy forever, leaving Bea to take care of her big house in London. Or maybe Alessandro will be dead. That’s preferable, Bea thinks, to him being married to another woman.

At least that’s what Bea thinks, until the man who answers the door proclaims himself to be Alessandro’s son.

“My father died last year,” he says, and Bea hears Gran gasp behind her. She tightens her grip on Gran’s hand. “I’m sorry, you say you knew him?”

Bea can’t see Gran’s face, but she can imagine the look on it. When her parents died, she felt as though the floor had dropped out from underneath her and she was clinging to the edge by her nails, waiting for someone to pull her back up. It had been Gran who had come to her aid.

That’s not something Bea likes to think about very often, but now, just for a moment, she’s glad she experienced it. Maybe now she can be here for Gran, as Gran was for her. She’s never had the opportunity to step up in that way before now.

Niall looks at Bea for a second before answering the man’s question. “No, I didn’t. This is Caro. Carolyn. She knew him, years ago. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Bea thinks she should echo the expression, but she can’t find her voice. This is too much of a shock: they came all this way for Alessandro, and though Bea had considered the possibility that he might be dead, she really didn’t expect it to be the case. What kind of ending is this?

The man, Alessandro’s son, looks at each of their faces, at their expressions. “And I, for yours. Would you like to come in?”

“Let’s go,” Gran whispers, tugging on Bea’s hand, pulling her back toward the car, but Bea steps forward. Maybe she can help Gran get the closure she needs. She clears her throat.

“Yes, please. We’d love to.”

The man nods, opening the door wider and allowing the three of them to follow him inside and into a small sitting room. Niall introduces Bea and himself, but she’s too distracted to be polite. The man’s house is small but well-kept. The tile floors are swept, books fill the shelves in the sitting room, and there is a piano with a row of picture frames on the top. Bea wanders over, looking at the photos and imagining this other life Gran might have lived.

In the first, their host, aged 9 or 10, stands with his parents in front of, what else, a vineyard. He wears overalls and his mother squints at the camera. The photo is in black and white even though it was taken, Bea guesses, sometime in the late 70s. There are balloons in the background, evidence of a party.

“Are these your parents?” Bea asks, carrying the frame over to the man. The man nods, taking it from her hands. “When was this photo taken?”

“I was 10 years old, if I remember correctly,” the man says. He lifts a pair of eyeglasses from his neck and slides them on. “My father had just returned from the army, his last tour. We were celebrating his retirement.”

“Alessandro was in the army?” Bea turns to Gran, who has settled on the couch, Niall standing awkwardly by her side, looking down on her as if worried she’s going to faint.

The man nods. “Yes, for many years. He enlisted as soon as he was old enough, in 1963, and was only home for a short time in 1968, when he met and married my mother. They had a whirlwind courtship, as you say.”

“1963,” Bea repeats. Something doesn’t fit, but she’s not sure what.

Niall is, though. “Caro met Alessandro in 1965,” he says. “Where was your father in 1965?”

The man scratches his head and takes so long to answer that Bea wants to grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake.

“Somewhere abroad,” he says finally. “North Africa, possibly.”

Bea’s face mirrors the look of shock on Niall’s. She takes the frame from the man and walks it to the couch. “Is this him, Gran? Is this your Alessandro?”

Gran leans forward, looking at the picture for an endless minute. “No,” she says quietly, fingers playing with the gold chain around her neck. “No, that’s not him.”

Bea feels a wave of emotion crash over her, pushing her down onto the couch next to Gran. “That’s not him,” she repeats.

“That’s not him,” Niall echoes.

Bea sits quietly as Niall makes their excuses, apologizing for the intrusion and giving their condolences. He ushers them out the door and back towards the car, where he grabs Bea’s arm before she can open the driver’s side door.

“Do you want me to drive?” he says quietly. “You seem shaky.”

Bea rolls her shoulders back. She’s not shaky, she’s fine. So what if Alessandro was dead and then alive again in the span of five minutes? She’s fine.

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “Don’t you want to journal about this?”

Niall steps away from her, hands up, and gets in the car before she can apologize for being rude.

It’s just as well, she supposes. It’s not as if she likes him anyway.

   Ten - Niall

The next day is much like the prior one, with visits to multiple Alessandro’s who may or may not be Gran’s lost love. At least none of them are dead. Yesterday’s first stop was so rough that Niall considered proposing to the ladies that they cut their losses and head back to the hotel, but Bea looked determined to press on.

This morning, though, her energy level seems lower, so on the way to the car, he offers to drive.

“Are you sure?” Bea asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have you ever driven in a foreign country?”

Niall raises an eyebrow in return, which makes Bea blush. He ignores the way his stomach flips at the redness in her cheeks. “Yes,” he says. “I’ve even driven in foreign cities. Like Verona.”

She blushes even darker as she no doubt recalls her terrible driving as they left the city a few days ago. “All right, then,” she says, passing over the keys. “But don’t kill us. My Gran is precious cargo.”

Niall nods. He doesn’t need to be told. Caro is one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met, aside from his own grandmother, who is back home in Ireland and whom he never gets to see. Growing up, his parents were always traveling for business, working late, making him feel forgotten, and it was his grandmother who remembered him. She took him on day trips to carnivals and national parks, attended all of his school plays, and helped him with his homework when he struggled. Leaving her behind to move to London was one of the hardest things he’s ever done, so it’s nice to spend time with Caro. She’s an excellent listener, and she gives even better advice.

Yesterday morning over breakfast, before Bea had shown up, Caro had asked him about his life, about what brought him to Italy, and he talked about Rhiannon in a way that he never had before.

“I thought I loved her once,” he’d said, stirring cream into coffee that he knew he wouldn’t drink.“But I know now that I didn’t. I just wanted to be in love so badly that I settled for her.”

Caro had nodded like she understood. “Or maybe you wanted to be loved. It’s okay to want that.” Then she’d paused, taken a sip of her tea, swallowed. “You like my granddaughter.”

She said it bluntly, like it was a fact, and Niall had been surprised, in that moment, to hear something he’d only felt sound so permanent, so real. But it was true, so he nodded.

“I do,” he said, and he had imagined, for the briefest of seconds, being loved by someone who stood her ground and said what she want, someone who cared about her family enough to drive through endless wine country with them, someone like Bea—and then he forced the thought out and away. It wasn’t an appropriate thing to be thinking while conversing with Bea’s grandmother.

But now that it’s a day later and he’s driving the car and Bea’s asleep in the backseat, mouth slack as she rests her head on her hand, elbow propped against the window, he has free reign to think whatever he wants. Which, try as he might to want something else, is Bea. Bea and her reluctant laugh. Bea and the fire in her eyes.

“Stubborn, isn’t she?” Caro says after a while, her voice so quiet that Niall wonders if he imagined it. Wonders if she was reading his mind. “My granddaughter. Stubborn as her gran.”

“Hmm.” Niall smiles softly at her, unsure what to say in response.

“I raised her, you know,” Caro says, glancing sideways at him before looking back at the road. “Her parents died when she was young, and ever since, she’s been this wild thing, but stubborn, practical. Always looking for evidence, for proof. But for some things, there is no proof.”

“What things?” Niall asks.

“Love, the most obvious. Faith. Hope. Dreams, especially dreams. Bea has rarely allowed herself dreams. Only when she’s asleep does she dream.”

Niall pictures her asleep, pictures her in bed beside him, rising from a nightmare and seeking his comfort. The image warms him. Now he has something else to think about: Bea and her forgotten dreams—for she must’ve had them, once.

“I dream enough for the both of us, don’t I?” Caro continues. Her voice turns serious. “We haven’t discussed this, but I know we can’t search for Alessandro forever.”

“I’ve got nothing but time,” Niall says, but it isn’t exactly true. He has to go back to London at some point. He wishes he didn’t, though. He wishes he could stay here forever, traveling the countryside with Caro and Bea.

“Your time is better spent on other endeavors,” Caro says, looking over her shoulder at Bea, who’s still asleep. Then she looks pointedly back to Niall. “You should tell her how you feel.”

Niall doesn’t answer. Bea is hot and cold—two nights ago, they’d almost kissed outside her door, but since then she’s barely spoken to him, barely looked at him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally says. Even if she likes him, even if she’d kiss him back—it doesn’t matter. “Like you said, we can’t search for Alessandro forever.”

“We can’t, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.” She pauses. Then: “Another day or two, I think. These old bones grow wary of sitting in cars.”

“Maybe we’ll find him today,” Niall says, offering her a smile.

They don’t, though. They visit two Alessandro’s before lunch, one too old and one two young, and in the afternoon, travel to an address that doesn’t exist. Before dinner, they check into another hotel just outside Sienna, all three of them exhausted. Niall can feel his bones creaking at all the joints, a physical manifestation of his mental exhaustion.

As he waits in the lobby for the ladies to come down for dinner, he scratches off several Alessandro’s from his list. There are a lot left, but, as Caro said this morning, she isn’t willing to search forever. Another day or two, she’d said. So he looks at the list now and tries to derive, as if by magic, which ones are most likely to be the one they’re searching for. It’s no use, but he stares at the page anyway, stares so long that “Alessandro” no longer looks like a word, just a random arrangement of letters.

Energy levels remains low at dinner, and not even gelato can seem to cheer anyone up. Niall bids Caro and Bea goodnight and goes to his room, where he pulls out his notebook and stares at a blank page before finally giving up and going to sleep.

Tomorrow will be a better day, he thinks as he drifts off.

   Eleven - Bea

The next morning, Niall knocks on Bea’s door before she’s had a chance to leave for breakfast. She’s braiding her hair over her shoulder when she pulls open the door and greets him.

“Hi?” she says.

“Good morning,” he says. He looks good this morning, dressed in shorts and a short sleeve button up. His sneakers are bright white. She wonders if he bleaches them.

“Good morning,” she says. “What’s going on? Is Gran alright?”

“She’s fine,” he says. “Bit tired. She said she wants to take the day off from driving today and hang about the pool. You could join her if you want, or…”

“Or?” She notices the backpack swung over his shoulder. “Are you going somewhere?”

He nods. “Sienna. I figured, since we’re here, I’d like to see it. And maybe you’d like to come.”

Her first instinct is to say no, because this is Niall and she absolutely does not like him, but then she changes her mind. What if she’s never in Italy again? What if they find Alessandro tomorrow and she’s on an immediate flight back home? What if this is her only chance to see Sienna?

“Okay,” she says. “I’d like to come.”

Ten minutes later, they’re in the car and she’s looking at his hands on the steering wheel. When he’d offered to drive, she’d accepted without hesitation, eager to spend the drive looking out the windows. As endless as the vines seem, they’re beautiful, and a bit otherworldly, as if England is more than a few hours’ flight away.

“Have you ever been to Italy before?” she asks Niall.

“No,” he says, glancing sideways at her. He’s an excellent driver, so careful, and she’s never felt safer in a car—a feat for her, because her parents died in one. “I’ve never made much time for travel. I regret that, I think. There are so many places to see that I haven’t seen.”

“There’s so much future for that,” Bea says. “So much forever. You can fill all of it with travel.”

“Maybe. Where would you like to go?”

Bea smiles, softly. She never lets her think about these things, about all the things she can’t have or will never do, but she indulges herself for a second. “Prague. Tokyo. Rio de Janeiro. New York City.”

“I’ve been to New York City,” Niall interjects. “It’s loud.”

“London is loud.”

“New York is louder.”

“Fine,” Bea rolls her eyes. “Where would you go?”

Niall shrugs, the fabric of his shirt rustling against the leather of the car seat. “Prague, Tokyo, Rio. I want to go everywhere.”

Bea doesn’t respond, and they fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence, during which they drive into Sienna and she thinks about how big Niall’s hands look on the steering wheel and how small hers feel resting on her thighs. She feels safe with Niall, not just when he’s driving, but maybe that’s not real. Maybe she’s transferring her feelings about his driving skills to the rest of him.

Or maybe, she considers, that she really does like Niall, just as she was thinking a few mornings ago, before the disaster with the undead Alessandro and the following day filled with disappointments. She scratches her knee.

“Bug bite?”

“Huh?” She looks over at Niall, who’s grinning at her. “Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“That’s rough,” he says.

“Yeah,” she says, but looking at Niall, nothing feels rough. Everything feels easy, smooth sailing, like she could sit beside him in a car forever.

Oh, crud.

In Sienna, Niall parallel parks easily near the city center and they wander through the streets, in and out of a museum, around and around the cathedral. Inside, Bea stands transfixed by the height of the ceilings and the intricacy of the design, horizontal lines spiraling around her, making her dizzy.

“This is the ugliest church I’ve ever seen,” Niall says quietly into her ear, making her laugh. She covers it up with a cough—it’s rude to laugh in a church, she’s pretty sure—before she responds.

“You can’t say that,” she whispers. “God can hear you.”

“God didn’t build it,” Niall whispers back. “And I’m sure he’s well aware.”

At lunch, they talk easily about their lives back in London, their favorite places to visit and their favorite places to avoid. They both hate Covent Garden and both love the South Bank despite the crowds of tourists outside the Globe.

“I can’t believe I’ve never seen you there,” Niall says.

“London’s a huge city,” Bea says. “Over 8 million people live there.”

“Maybe. But only one Beatrix Mason.”

That makes her blush, and the awareness that she’s blushing makes her blush more. He grins at her, and she smiles back, and if she could make a snow globe out of any moment, it would be this one. This perfect day in Sienna with a perfect man whose beautiful eyes look into her own like they can see all her secrets and aren’t judging her for them.

She thinks of Juliet then, of her decision to marry Romeo after only knowing him for a few days, and in that moment, it doesn’t seem crazy. It seems like the most sensible thing in the world.

In the late afternoon, they drive back to the hotel to meet Gran for dinner, but she’s already eaten, so they get a table in the hotel restaurant without her. Niall smiles and Bea smiles and something’s changed, she thinks. Today he cracked open a little bit and made a little bit more sense, and she wants to keep digging, she thinks.

He’s engaged, she knows that—he’s engaged, but tomorrow will be their last day together, and she can have one more day, can’t she? One more day with Niall, and then she’ll let him go.

“Come for a walk with me,” she says when they’re done eating.

They wander into the hills around the hotel, climbing to the top of one to look at the stars.

“Do you know the names?” Niall asks.

“No,” Bea says, which is a lie, but she’s hoping he’ll impress her. She’s hoping he wants to impress her.

“Me either,” he says. She laughs.

They lie on the ground like that for a while, watching stars shoot across the sky. Niall’s hand finds hers in the grass and holds on tight. The air tingles between them. A summer night, alive.

When he leans over and kisses her, it’s surprising at first and then the most natural thing in the world. She kisses him back, enjoying the weight of him over her, the brush of his hair in his eyes, the softness of his lips. And then she remembers.

She pushes him back, and it takes a second before he goes. He smiles at her, but she doesn’t smile back.

“Bea,” he says, reaching a hand down to brush some hair out of her face. It’s too much, and almost enough to get her to kiss him again. But he’s engaged.

She rolls away from him and springs to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she stammers. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

Niall follows, going after her as she crosses the lawn. “Why not?”

Bea looks over her shoulder. “You’re engaged. Aren’t you engaged?”

Niall shakes his head, but doesn’t respond. He looks like he’s fed up with her, which is just as well, because she’s fed up with him too. Why is he like this, hot one second, confusing the next? Why is she like this, attracted to such a man?

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “Bea, I like you, and—”

“How can you say it doesn’t matter? Your fiancée doesn’t matter?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I—”

“Look, we’re almost through the list,” Bea says, taking another step away from him. He needs to stop looking at her like that, with those glowing blue eyes, or she can’t be held responsible for her actions. The more space she can put between them now, the better. “If we don’t find Alessandro tomorrow, that’s it. Gran and I are going home, and you’re going back to your fiancée, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened.”

Niall steps closer to her, into the space she put between them. “I don’t want to pretend that none of this ever happened.”

“But you’re engaged,” she reminds him again. Why can’t he seem to remember that? “To someone else. To someone who I’m sure is very kind and very much in love with you and would not be pleased to find out that you’ve been kissing another girl on a hillside in the country.”

The corner of Niall’s mouth lifts, almost like—is he laughing? He’s definitely laughing. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“What?” Bea’s jaw drops open. “That’s an awful thing to say. You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I just kissed you.” And I can’t believe I want to do it again.

Now he’s frowning. “Bea—”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to bed, and we’re going to forget this ever happened, and we’re never going to talk about it again.”

Niall looks like he wants to say something, but he holds it back. Good.

“Goodnight,” she says, turning on her heel and marching away from him.

She can’t resist turning back, though, where he’s still standing on the hill, hand raised to his mouth, gazing after her. She spins away before he can catch her looking.

   Twelve - Niall

In the car the next morning, they don’t speak of the kiss. Bea won’t even look at him, and Niall supposes he deserves it. She thought he was engaged, after all. But he isn’t. He isn’t engaged, and the only thing he wants is to kiss Bea again, and again, and again.

That doesn’t seem likely to happen, though, at least not if this morning is an indication.They sit silently in the car, all three of them off in their own worlds. Bea had said last night that today would be their last day—if they don’t find Alessandro today, this is it. They’ll return to their lives, story unfinished.

Niall wouldn’t put money on that, though. He’s a writer, and he knows that a story’s not a story if it doesn’t have an ending. And this one, the story of Alessandro Bianchi and Carolyn Mason—it’s going to have a marvelous ending.

Hopefully the story of Niall Horan and Beatrix Mason will have a marvelous ending, too. He won’t leave Italy without one.

The morning’s Alessandro is a bust, and after a roadside picnic, they hit the road again, driving east to the next one on the list. Niall picked today’s names, perhaps the final ones, at random, and he both hopes and doesn’t hope that one of them is the one.

They’re a few minutes out from the turn indicated on the map when Caro gasps in the passenger’s seat. Niall leans forward to see if she’s okay, meeting Bea’s eyes for a precious second before she looks away, refocusing her attention on her grandmother.

“Pull over,” Caro says, her hand already reaching for the door.

“What?” Bea says. “Are you okay?”

“Pull over,” Caro repeats, so Bea does, flipping on the turn signal and guiding the car off the road. Caro gets out and steps toward the road, staring across at a man standing in the vineyard. Bea follows, and so does Niall.

“Gran? What is it?” Bea asks.

Caro raises her arm and points. “That’s him. That’s Alessandro.”

Niall squints at the man across the road. He’s young, much too young to be Alessandro—he’s not much older than Bea. But Caro seems so sure, her gaze fixed, so Niall crosses the road to ask.

“Niall, wait,” Bea calls after him, and though it’s the first time she’s acknowledged him all day, he doesn’t turn around.

“Scusi,” he says to the man. “We’re looking for Alessandro Bianchi.”

“That’s me,” the man says. “I am Alessandro Bianchi. And my father, he is Alessandro Bianchi as well.”

“Your father,” Niall repeats. “Your father, where is he?”

“Out for a ride,” the man says, his gaze drifting across the road, where Bea and Caro still stand. “He will be back soon. I can take you up to the house, if you’d like.”

Niall nods. “Let me get my friends.”

He crosses the road back to Caro and Bea, who are staring at him with wide eyes. “It’s him,” Niall says. “Well, not him, but Alessandro is his father and he’s just out for a ride and he’ll be back soon.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Bea repeats, processing. Then, more eagerly: “Gran, he’ll be back soon!” 

“Oh,” Caro says, looking off into the distance. “Maybe it’s not really him. We ought to go before he comes.”

“Nonsense, Gran,” Bea says. She tucks a lock of Caro’s hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful, just as you did 55 years ago. He’s going to be so excited to see you.”

Caro sighs. “I don’t know, Bea bug. It’s been so long, so many years. Maybe this box is best left shut.”

“Gran—” Bea starts, but the sound of a galloping horse interrupts her. The three of them turn as a horse emerges from the vineyards across the road, coming to a stop beside Alessandro Jr. They watch with bated breath as he converses with his son, both of them looking across the road, and then, still on his horse, he crosses.

“Carolina,” he says, drawing his horse to a stop a few feet from them. He climbs down and drops the reins, the horse forgotten as he approaches. “My Carolina, is that you?”

Caro steps forward. “Alessandro. It’s me.”

“After so many years,” he says. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible,” she says. 

Niall can’t believe it. He truly can’t believe it, but it’s true. It’s him, after all this time, after all the places they’ve stopped, after all the ways he’s twisted himself into knots over Bea—there he is. Alessandro. Caro’s Alessandro.

Niall drifts backwards as they embrace, coming to stand behind Bea. She looks uncomfortable as well, her gaze drifting off into the endless rows of grapevines beside the road.

Niall puts a hand lightly on her back. “Should we—”

“I think—”

Niall laughs, which makes Bea blush his favorite blush. “You go ahead,” he says.

She bites her lip, and he can tell she’s trying not to smile. After everything, she doesn’t want to smile at him, but this moment, it’s special. “I was going to say, I think we should give them a few minutes.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” Niall grins. He can’t help it. They found Alessandro—they found Alessandro!—and he’s here, with Bea. There’s nothing better than this, nowhere he’d rather be.

“Let’s go,” Bea says, leading him through the vineyard.

They walk in step silently for a while, Bea ignoring him and Niall wondering what he should say.The vineyards wrap around them, pushing them closer together, but Bea avoids bumping shoulders with him. He can tell that she wanted to give her gran privacy, but, unlike him, she’d rather be anywhere than here with him.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Good,” she says. “You should be.”

Niall doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know how to explain to her what she means to him—how, in such a short time, she’s come to mean everything. He thinks, hopes, prays, that maybe she feels the same way.

“I think you should leave.”

“What?” he says. She doesn’t feel the same way, and it hits him like a brick to his gut. After everything.

“We found Alessandro, so there’s no reason for you to stay. You should leave now, go back to Verona, back to your fiancée and your life. I’ll find someone to drive you to the train station. I’m sure Alessandro’s son Alessandro would be willing.”

“You won’t drive me yourself?” he asks, annoyed now, frustrated, exhausted. What an emotional roller coaster this week has been.

“No, Niall,” she says, looking at him now, meeting his gaze, and in it he can see every emotion he’s feeling too—exhaustion and confusion and excitement and sadness and loneliness. But that clarifies nothing. “I won’t drive you, and I don’t want to see you again. This week was nice, but it was just that—a week. It’s over now, and we are too.”

She turns her back on him, walking away, so she doesn’t hear what he says to her retreating form:

“We barely began.”

   Thirteen - Bea

Gran has never looked so happy as she does at dinner with Alessandro and all of his family—children and grandchildren and even a great-grandchild or two. This is the massive family gathering that Gran never got, everyone who loves each other gathered in one place, smiling, laughing. It’s bliss.

Except it’s not, because seated to Bea’s right is Niall. Niall, who’s engaged and kissed her anyway. Niall, who she can’t stop thinking about, who she won’t stop thinking about even when he’s gone. Niall, who she can barely look at. Niall, who she’s sending away.

It’s the right thing to do, she knows, but it feels so wrong, and she hasn’t even done it yet.

She barely pays attention to Alessandro’s relatives as they riddle her with questions, some of which Niall answers for her—making her feel safe even when she doesn’t want him to. Making her feel cared for, even though she asked him not to.

After dinner, Bea approaches Gran and Alessandro beside the table, where they are surrounded by a cluster of Alessandro’s grandkids and great-grands. Niall follows behind—Bea can feel him there, but she doesn’t turn around to look. Looking at him hurts.

She can’t believe that 24 hours ago she thought she’d be able to spend just these days with him and then let him go, and be okay with it. This isn’t okay. This isn’t okay at all.

Best to rip off the band-aid. Bea puts a hand on Gran’s arm.

“Niall is leaving,” she says when Gran turns to face her.

Gran looks at Niall. “Oh, no, please, Niall, you don’t have to.”

Alessandro echoes the sentiment. “Please, stay. You are welcome here.”

Niall looks at her then, looks for some kind of confirmation that he can stay, that she wants him here, but Bea doesn’t give it to him. She looks at the ground and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes burning a hole in Bea’s cheek. “I have to be getting back to Verona.”

Bea feels more eyes on her—Gran, this time. She meets her eyes and gives a quick nod, as if to say, I want him gone. Gran frowns, but doesn’t object.

“My son will drive you to the station,” Alessandro says, waving his son over.

Five minutes later, Bea stands back as Gran says goodbye to Niall at the car, hugs him and kisses his cheek and makes him promise to call. He won’t, though, Bea knows that. When Niall leaves, she will never see him again. She hurt him when she told him to go as they stood in the vineyards, surrounded by unborn wine. She hurt him, and there’s no taking that back.

He looks at her through the window as the car drives away, his face expressionless, his eyes bright blue even through the glass. He looks at her until he’s too far away to keep looking.

The moment the car turns at the end of the drive, disappearing from view, Bea can feel in her stomach that she made a mistake. It feels like a storm is broiling, rolling and twisting and throwing her dinner around like it’s lawn furniture. But it’s too late.

“Oh, Beatrix,” Gran says from behind her. “Why did you do that? Don’t you have feelings for him?”

“He’s engaged,” Bea says without turning around. Maybe if she keeps her eyes locked on the setting sun, she’ll be able to disappear alongside it. “It doesn’t matter what I feel.”

“Pish posh,” Gran says. She slips her hand into Bea’s and squeezes. “That boy is not engaged. He and his fiancée broke up months ago.”

What? He’s not engaged?

“That can’t be right,” Bea says. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Gran says. “And you’ll never find out, if you let him go like that.”

Bea shakes her head. “It’s too late,” she says. “He’s gone, and I made him leave. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Gran says. “I found Alessandro after all these years, did I not? How many Nialls do you think are on this planet? Don’t wait 55 years like I did.”

Bea looks at her grandmother now, looks at the wrinkles by her bright eyes, brighter than they’ve been in a long time. Alessandro has brought the light back to her gran’s eyes.

“Thank you for helping me find Alessandro,” Gran says. “Now, go find Niall.”

She presses the car keys into Bea’s palm.

“I—” Bea begins.

“Go,” Gran instructs.

So she does.

   Fourteen - Niall

“Niall!”

Niall turns at the sound of his name, but he can’t see who’s yelling at him, so he keeps going, cutting through the crowd with his bag pulled tight against his side.

“Niall, you jerk! Stop right there!”

Is that—it can’t be. He comes to a stop and turns, and there she is.

“Bea? What are you doing here?”

She’s wearing cutoff shorts and running shoes and her purse bounces on her hip. She stops in front of him, a few feet away, and glares.

God, he missed that glare. It’s only been a few hours since he saw it last, but damn, he missed it. He missed the fire in her eyes and the sharpness of her nose and the way she looks at him like he’s the only thing worth looking at.

“I’m here because you’re awful,” she says, breathing hard. “I had to tell you.”

“You ran after me in the train station to tell me I’m awful?” he repeats, confused. “I’m leaving, just like you asked, Bea. You didn’t need to come here and make things worse.”

“No, you idiot,” she says, taking a step closer to him. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” he asks.

He knows what he wants. He wants to pull her tight against his chest and kiss her for at least the next five minutes and then for the rest of time. He wants to run through vineyards with her and stomp buckets of grapes and get wine drunk under hot the Italian sun. He wants to rub aloe on her sunburn and kiss it as it heals. And he wants to know what she wants.

But she ignores the question.

“My Gran, she said that you’re not really engaged,” Bea says, lunging forward to punch him in the shoulder. It barely hurts, but he rubs at the spot anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I thought I did,” Niall says, running through their previous conversations in his mind. Hadn’t he, the other night just after their kiss? “I swear I did.”

Bea’s fist comes at him again, softer this time. “You didn’t, you idiot. That’s why I made you leave.”

Niall tilts his head. He understands now, why she’s here, what she wants. His heartbeat speeds up. “Because I didn’t tell you I wasn’t engaged?”

“Yes!”

“Why do you care if I’m engaged or not?” Niall asks, even though the answer is obvious. He wants to hear her say it.

Bea huffs. As she grows more frustrated, her cheeks get redder and redder. “Because you can’t go around kissing people when you’re engaged!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s rude!”

Her fist flies again, but Niall grabs it and opens it in his hand. He weaves his fingers with hers and pulls her forward. “Why?” he asks.

“Because,” she says, cheeks blazing. She’s so close to him now, close enough to kiss, but Niall holds off. He wants to see if she’ll say it. “Because it’s rude!”

“You already said that.” Niall can’t resist the loose strand of hair blowing in front of her eyes; he tucks it safely behind her ear.

Bea’s eyes follow the moment of his hand. “Right. What was the question again?”

“Why is it rude to kiss someone when you’re engaged?”

“Oh, right,” Bea says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “It’s rude because… because you might kiss somebody so well that they want to kiss you again, but they can’t, because you’re engaged!”

“I’m not engaged.”

“You’re not…” Bea repeats, her eyes drifting down and landing on his lips. “You’re not engaged.”

“Right.”

“You’re not engaged,” she says again, the edges of her mouth lifting in a smile She lifts her arms from where he’d trapped them on his chest and wraps them around his neck. “So why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

“That’s a good que—” Niall starts, but Bea cuts him off before he can finish, pressing her lips to his. He runs his fingers along her cheekbone and pulls her close her, feeling her chest press against his, her warmth mingling with his. He can smell her sweat, can feel her bare legs against his.

There’s a fire in this kiss that wasn’t there the other night, an urgency. After a minute, he pulls back, resting his hand on her cheek. “What’s with the hurry?”

Bea blinks up at him, eyelashes batting at her cheeks. “I don’t want you to leave,” she says. “I had to stop you from leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers against her mouth. “Staying right here.”

When he kisses her again, he hopes she can feel what he does: that he found what he was searching for—not Alessandro, but Bea. The girl with fire in her eyes and a stubborn spirit and the potential, he thinks, to love him forever.

There’s so much forever, Bea had said to him the other day. In the moment, it had sounded terrifying, but now he knows there’s nothing as good as forever when it has Beatrix Madison in it.

   Afterward

Verona, 2020

Dear Juliet,

We both used to think you were a load of nonsense, but that was before we met each other, right here, just below your balcony. We’re not saying we believe in fate now, but it’s not totally off the table.

Love’s not totally off the table anymore, either. Neither of us believed in it before, but now we know a bit better. We know that you can love somebody for the way they blush and how much they love their grandmother and how terrible their driving is. And we know that you can love somebody for their bright blue eyes and the way they tease you and how safely they drive. We know that love, the way it’s supposed to be, makes you happy in all the best ways.

So, thanks, Juliet. We’re sorry you couldn’t get the ending we’re getting.

Love (the real kind),

Niall and Bea

[harley-sunday]

The Draw [16]

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end…

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language. 

Word count: 5k

AN: I just can’t seem to quit this story - I keep adding parts... But. BUT. We are closer to end. There’s not much more I can say without giving anything away, except that this chapter seems to consist of mostly phone calls... 🤷🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it, please let me know what you think - I’d love to read your thoughts :) ♥

Masterlist

“I don’t know, Brad,” you try your hardest not to sound as frustrated as you feel, “last week you told me that you understood the process, so I don’t really get why we are missing all this inventory right now.” You rub your temples, trying to get rid of the headache that started when you got to the office this morning, quietly cursing the jetlag that has been bothering you ever since you got back from Greece on Saturday, although you know Brad’s fuck-up also has something to do with it. Inventory is not that difficult. 

Brad, who’s been interning at the San Francisco office for a grand total of three weeks and yet somehow thinks he’s God’s gift to this company, just shrugs, “I’m sorry?”

You just stare at him and shake your head, “No. Go over it one more time, ok? I’m keeping these here,” you tap the stack of papers on your desk, “so really start at zero again and report back to me tomorrow morning.” You watch him roll his eyes before he nods and turns around to leave. “Brad?” You no longer try to hide the annoyance in your voice, “Close the door on your way out, will you?”

When he does you let out a frustrated groan and lean back in your chair, quietly shaking your head and wondering if you were ever this cocky when you first started working here. Probably not, Deb would have never allowed it. As if on cue your phone rings and when you see who’s calling you answer with a smile, “Hi, Deb.”

“How you holding up, kid?”

“Just told an intern to start over on inventory,” you offer, “so I’m sure he’s telling the other interns what a bitch I am right about now.”

You hear Deb chuckle, “Good for you.” There are some muffled sounds on the other end of the line then and you can just imagine her getting up and walking to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee because the woman seems to run on double espressos and cigarettes. “Listen, I want to run something by you.”  

Weird. This is weird. Usually she just informs you after whatever it is she has decided, but her wanting to 'run something by you' tells you she actually wants your opinion. You sit up in your chair, curious to hear what she has to say, “Sure.”

“Technically I’ve found someone to take over the San Francisco office from you,” she says, “and on short notice too, because I know you’ve already been out there longer than you’d like.”

“Ok,” you draw out, not sure where she’s going with this.

You hear her sigh and then she mutters something about biting the bullet before she says, “It’s Mark.”

“Oh.” Your heart drops and your throat goes dry, the lump that suddenly has appeared hard to swallow. There’s a million things running through your head all at the same time, some good, most of them bad, and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. You don’t really know what else to say and so you stay quiet, waiting for Deb to give you something more to go on.

“I know,” her voice is unusually kind, reserved only for the really shitty situations and it tells you she hates this as much as you do. She clears her throat then, “I’ll be honest with you, kid, I contacted him. I know he wasn’t happy when I shipped him off to the London office after you-” she hesitates and clears her throat again, “After what happened. Thing is, he has done some great work there, out of all our overseas offices, this one’s giving us the best turnover.”

You only half-listen to her listing off why this is a good idea, your mind drifting to when you first met Mark. There was talk of a new guy coming in to maybe take over from Deb in a few years, supposedly the best in the business although some called him an asshole who would stop at nothing to get to the top and so by default you had decided you probably wouldn't like him, but then all of a sudden there he was, all six foot two of him, full of ambition and good looks  and sweeping you off your feet almost instantly. You told yourself, and him, you didn’t do office romance, that you would never date a colleague, but all it took was one night of overtime and some celebratory drinks after to make you forget your so-called rule. 

And the first six months were good, really good. Or at least that’s what you thought. In the end there were warning signs all along, but you just choose to ignore them. And even now you’re not sure what triggered him but something changed after those six months and Mark became manipulative, obsessive, and abusive, and at first you told yourself it was just stress from work, even though deep down you knew better. Still, you always believed you’d be the one to make him change his ways, if only you did what he wanted. Problem was, you were never sure what that was. 

He’d want you to wear a tight dress and high heels one day, and the next he would tell you you looked like a whore and what were you thinking leaving the house looking like that? It took you too long to understand you could never make him happy, no matter what you did, and that he would always find things to obsess over. When you finally realized your relationship had turned toxic it still took you another two years to quit him, and that was only after you learned he’d cheated on you with a girl from accounting. When Deb found out what Mark did she immediately took your side and made it look like his sudden move to the London office had been planned all along even though you know she had to pull quite a few strings. 

She still doesn’t know about the verbal abuse and the threats and the mind games, you realize then. Maybe if she did she wouldn’t have offered him to come back. 

“You still there?” Her voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Yeah.” 

She sighs and you can just imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose, “Thing is, with the experience he has, you’d only need a day, two at most, to bring him up to speed.” She hesitates, “If we bring in someone new-”

“It’ll take at least four weeks,” you offer with a nod even though she can’t see you. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes,” you echo. You roll your lip between your teeth, trying to decide whether or not you should tell her the full story. Would it matter? And if it did, would it mean you’d be stuck out here longer?

“Listen, take the day to think about it,” she offers then, “get back to me tomorrow and let me know, ok?” 

“Ok.”

“Alright.” 

Before you get a chance to say goodbye she has disconnected the call and so you’re left with your own thoughts. Tapping your phone against your chin you’re trying to decide what to do, but it seems like too big of a decision to make on your own. You pull up your texting app and send Lauren a quick message:

You free tonight? 

Her reply comes not much later and surprises you:

Sorry, can’t tonight. Going on a date :)

You type a reply almost immediately:

?? Why didn’t you tell me? But also, YASSS! Go get it, girl! Call me tomorrow?

You lean back in your chair while you wait for her reply, a little upset that she didn’t tell you, and you can’t help but wonder why. 

Her reply doesn’t really make you feel any better:

You were busy, babe. Talk to you tomorrow.

You kick off your shoes the moment you step into the apartment you refuse to call home, and head straight to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine, before you open the takeout container and put some of the fried rice and egg rolls you got from your favourite restaurant on a plate. It’s still nice outside and so you end up on the tiny balcony, now bare feet propped up on the railing as you eat your dinner. 

The thought of having to work with Mark again, if only for a short while, takes up most of your headspace and you hate how indecisive you are about it. Part of you wants nothing to do with him ever again, but part of you knows he really is the best man for the job. Say what you will about the asshole, but he knows how to run a company. Having Mark at the San Francisco office would probably mean neither you nor Deb would have to step in ever again and, you reason, he could probably manage Seattle and Phoenix from here too. 

You really just want to talk to somebody about this, because putting your thoughts into words has always helped you, and so you call your brother.

The call goes straight to voicemail although a message follows soon after:

At Jake's science fair, or did you forget that was today?

You let out a frustrated groan, because yes, you totally forgot. 

It does nothing to help your mood and you're starting to feel so bad about missing out on so much that's happening in Charlotte right now, what with Jake’s science fair and Lauren apparently dating someone, that it's actually making you homesick. You decide to pour yourself another glass of wine, because fuck it. 

When you close the fridge your eyes fall on a picture of you and Sebastian you've put up there and you figure maybe you should just call him. A quick glance at the clock, however, tells you it's early morning in Greece and so you forego that idea because you don't really want to wake him up with the news your ex is about to make a comeback into your life.

You are having a very ‘Woo is me’ moment and hate how alone you feel right now. You know the wine is not helping and so you dump what’s left in the glass in the kitchen sink and put the kettle on for a cup of tea instead. While the water boiling you set out to find a notebook, hoping that putting your thoughts on paper will help you figure out what it is you can do about this situation and maybe make some decisions.

You call Deb the moment you’re at your desk and she answers on the first ring.

“Tell me,” 

Never one to beat around the bush, you think, although in this case you appreciate it. “Have Mark take over San Francisco,” you tell her, “but I need him to do his homework in advance because two days is my absolute max.”

“Noted,” Deb agrees easily, “but?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, “I want to be able to divide my time between Charlotte and New York as I see fit, with Charlotte as my home base, at least for now. If I ever decide to move to New York I want it to be an option to turn that arrangement around-” 

“Give me two weeks once Mark has settled in-”

“-and I’d like to take four weeks of unpaid leave in August,” you add quickly, before you lose momentum. 

She sucks in her breath, “I don’t know if I can do that, kid.” 

“It’s only four weeks, Deb,” you counter, “and it’s unpaid. I still have enough days left to make it a paid vacation if that’s what you prefer.” You close your eyes and scrunch up your nose, anxious about her reply, because you’ve never really talked back to her like this before. 

Turns out there was nothing to worry about when she tells you, “Look who finally put on her big-girl panties, standing up to her boss.” She lets out a laugh, “I’m proud of ya, kid.” 

“Will you let me know when to expect Mark? I’ll make sure everything’s ready by then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“It’s just,” Lauren hesitates, and you want to tell her it’s ok, that you know you haven’t been there for her as much as you should have, but she continues then, “it’s weird not having you around, not knowing what you’re up to. Not knowing if, when I call you, I’m bothering you.”

“Hey,” you counter quickly, “you are one of the few people who never have to worry about that and I’m a little shocked you would even think that. You can call me day or night, Laur, always.” 

“I know.” She sighs then, “It’s just- I feel like- I don’t know, ok? It’s just different with you being so far away for so long. I miss you.” 

“I know,” you try to smile even though she can’t see you, “I’m sorry for not being the best bestest friend these past few weeks. I miss you too, babe.” You get up from the couch and make your way onto the balcony where you lean against the railing, “Let’s just hope Mark can make it out of London soon so I can get back to Charlotte and get back to annoying you twenty-four seven.” 

She laughs, “You’re going to have to share me now, though.”

You’re relieved she seems to have accepted your apology and so you decide to tease her a little more, “You do realize the first thing I’m doing when I get back is give Matt the same stern talking-to as you did Sebastian?” 

“Oh shit,” she whispers. A little louder then, “Please don’t, I really like him.” 

“Well you better tell him then that your best friend is not above kicking his ass if he ever hurts you.”

“Will do.” She clears her throat then, “So, are you going to tell Sebastian about Mark?” 

“That was the most abrupt change of subject ever,” you scoff with a grin, “what the hell, Laur?”

“I just think you should tell him.”

“I know,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I will. I just want to wait until I know when Mark gets here, you know?”

“Yeah.” She lets out a yawn and laughs, “Sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” you smile, “I get the hint.” 

She laughs, “I’m sorry, babe, it’s been a long day. Listen,” another yawn, although you’re sure this one was on purpose, “let me know once you know more about Mark and when you’re getting back, ok?”

“Yup, will do.” You have to stifle your own yawn then, “Talk to you soon, babe.” 

“Love you.”

It isn’t until Friday afternoon that there’s an email from Deb, informing you Mark will take a flight from London next Wednesday so that you have all of Thursday and Friday to get him settled in. She’s included a list of subjects he wants to discuss but you decide that’s for later, before you close all active connections and shut your laptop off. You grab your phone off your desk and send a quick message to Lauren:

Coming home next weekend :)

Her reply comes when you’re at the elevator bay:

Yay! Let me know how when you land and I’ll pick you up! Xx

Your next message is to Sebastian:

Missing you something fierce, Stan! Call me when you can? X

The sound of your phone wakes you from a deep sleep early on Sunday morning, but you can’t help but smile when you see ‘Mr Smooth’ flashing on your screen and so you answer with a quiet, “Hey you.”

“God, it’s good to hear your voice again,” he whispers. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I have some news though.” There’s a knot starting to form in your stomach and so you figured it’s better to bite the bullet right away. 

“Tell me,”

“Promise you’ll let me finish before you say anything?”

“That bad?”

“Not really- I don’t know,” you push the covers off and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You take a deep breath before you continue, “Remember when I told you about my ex, Mark?” 

“Hmm,” he replies, and you take that as your cue to continue.

“What I didn’t tell you then- And maybe I should have- We used to work together in Charlotte.” You clear your throat, “And when we broke up Deb moved him to the London office, but now she wants him to take over San Francisco from me.” You wait for a reply from him, but then remember you told him to wait and so you continue, “He starts on Thursday and we’ve scheduled two days for me to bring him up to speed, so I’m going to have to spend some time together with him and I don’t know, I just thought you should know.” You push yourself off the bed and make your way to the kitchen, “The good news though, is that I got Deb to agree to let me divide my time between Charlotte and New York from now on, and that I have four weeks off in August.”

He stays quiet for a little too long and so you’re preparing for the worst when he finally replies. But then he just says, “How do you feel about seeing him again?” and you feel a wave of relief washing over you.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I mean, I know he’s right for the job and it’s always easier to bring in someone who has experience and knows the company, but I- There’s a lot of history there and I just hope he realizes I’m not the same person anymore.” You lean against the counter and let out a sigh, “I guess I just want to get this over with and go back to Charlotte.”

“So nothing for me to worry about?” His voice is soft.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. 

“Good.”

Mark is, well, he’s still an asshole, you realize when he walks into your office and tries to greet you with a hug. You offer him a hand and a curt, “Hello,” and have to hide your smile when you see the disappointment in his eyes. You’ve been feeling nervous all morning, hell, all week, because somehow you knew he would try to act like nothing ever happened. 

“So this is how it’s  going to be, huh?” He says while he puts his briefcase down on one of the visitors’ chairs on the other side of your desk. 

“Yes, Mark,” you nod and sit down in your own chair, “this is exactly how it’s going to be.” You watch as he unbuttons the jacket of his three piece suit before he sits down and leans back in his chair and you hand him a folder, “Read this first, it’s an overview of the last five years and should give you a fairly good impression of how things are run here.”

He thumbs through the papers, seemingly resigned to the fact that it’s solely a business relationship between you two from now on, and you see his eyebrows go up when he comes to the financial statements, “How on earth-”

“I know,” you hand him another folder, “this is Paul Kroeger’s file. Or at least everything that I’ve managed to uncover in the few weeks I’ve been here. I really urge you to keep digging, because I’m sure more shit will come up.” 

“Why didn’t Deb step in sooner?”

“You’ll have to ask Deb that,” you offer with a shrug. Another folder then, “This is everything you need to know about the rest of the staff here. I don’t think anyone else was in on it, but again, you might want to keep digging.”

He nods, “Ok.” Taking all three folders, he puts them in his briefcase before he looks back at you, squinting a little as if he’s trying to read you. There’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips when he says, “You’ve changed.” 

And you haven’t, you want to bite back, but don’t because you want to at least try to keep things civil. Instead you simply agree, “I have.” You try to steer the conversation back to work, “We have a meeting with Finance in ten minutes, then lunch with the board, and a meeting with Sales in the afternoon. After that I figured we could take a quick tour of the building, so you can meet everyone, and then I’ll send out the official message to all of our partners.”

He just nods.

“I’ll make sure to have this office empty by the end of the day so you can get settled in,” you continue, “and then I’ll be available all day tomorrow should you have any further questions.” 

“You forgot one thing,”

You don’t say anything and just look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

A cocky smile flashes across his face when he says, “You forgot to mention we’ll be having dinner tonight so we-”

“We’re not having dinner tonight, Mark,” you say, effectively cutting him off. It makes you feel good to tell him no and so you have to try your hardest to hide your smile when you see his face drop. 

“You really have changed,” he says again, but this time there’s a hint of dismay in his voice.

You smile widely now, because fuck him, “Yes. I really have.”

Blame it on the red-eye flight and thus having to get up extremely early this morning, or simply on the fact that it’s been five weeks since you last saw her, but you find yourself actually tearing up when you walk out of exit E and see Lauren waiting there for you. 

She holds out her arms as you walk up to her and then envelopes you in a tight hug, “Don’t cry, silly.” 

“I just really missed you,” you sniffle while you wrap your arms around her. “And it’s that time of the month, so you know,” you chuckle through your tears, “double the fun.” When you pull back you see her eyes are glossed over as well and so you just stick out your tongue at her, “Let’s go home.” 

“Alright,” she says once you’re in her car, “start talking, babe. I want to know everything that’s happened since I last saw you.”

You’ve just finished telling her about your parents’ visit to San Francisco and your trip to Greece when she pulls up on your driveway and so all of a sudden you’re home again after almost two months. The garden looks absolutely immaculate and you know you have your parents to thank for that, reminding yourself to call them later today. Grabbing your suitcases out the trunk you let Lauren take one from your as you follow her to your house.

She turns around rather dramatically when you get to the front door, “Ok. So. Please don’t be mad, but-” she pulls a face, “-that plant in your dining room?” 

“Felicity?”

“Sure, yeah,” she scoffs, “name your plants. What’s next? Naming your electrical appliances?”

“You’re just stalling because Felicity the Fiddle Leaf Fig is obviously no longer with us and you’re just too afraid to admit you killed her,” you counter, trying to keep a straight face.

“I didn’t-” Lauren hesitates then and seems to realize you’re just messing with her, “but yes. Felicity has gone to plant heaven. It was all very sad. I buried her in the backyard if you want to pay your respects.” 

You let out a laugh, “I’d rather you just open the front door for me so we can have a drink and gossip about Mark.”

“You really said that?” 

“I really did,” you admit with a smile, thinking back to when you told Mark to have a nice life when you left the office Friday afternoon. You grab the bottle of wine from off the floor next to you and top of her glass before you fill yours, “I don’t know. In a way those two days gave me some sort of closure, I guess.”

“Hmm,” she agrees, taking a sip of her wine. “So what’s next?”

“Well first you’re going to introduce me to Matt sometime this week-”

“Babe.”

“Babe,” you echo. “You’ve been dating for almost a month, do I need to remind you that you met Sebastian before we even were officially dating?”

“Yeah, ok,” she agrees, “I guess you could both come over for dinner next weekend.” She sits up a little, “So you’re going to be here for a while, right?”

You nod, “Sort of. I go back to work on Monday and then Sebastian’s scheduled to fly back on the third and that’s the same weekend I start my four-week leave-”

“That’s only two more weeks.”

“It is,” you smile. “I don’t know if he wants to celebrate his birthday here or if he wants to go to New York, and I think he said something about maybe taking a short holiday somewhere, but his next project starts in September so I’ll come back to Charlotte then and probably stay here while he’s away.” 

“Ugh,” Lauren rolls her eyes and shakes her head but smiles, “to be the girlfriend of an international superstar.” 

“Tante!” Jake exclaims when he opens the front door. He all but jumps in your arms to give you a hug.

“Uh, excuse me, sir,” you tease, resisting the hug, “who are you and what did you do with my nephew?” You laugh when he pulls a face, “You are getting too big, kiddo, slow it down a little, will you?” 

Jake giggles and hugs you even tighter. 

“Ah, there she is,” Nathan says from the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest, “my long-lost sister. So glad you're finally gracing us with your presence after coming back home a week ago.” 

“So dramatic,” you counter with a grin, although he has a point. You should have gone to see them sooner, but as always work got in the way, what with Deb doubling your workload before you take your leave in another two weeks. Jake jumps out of your arms then and so you get to hug your brother for the first time in what feels like forever, ‘“ Hi, Nate.”

“Hi, loser,” he says from somewhere over your shoulder, but the way he holds you tight tells you he’s missed you too. 

“How you holding up?”

“Good,” he pulls back and smiles, “still some headaches every now and then, but not as much as two months ago-”

“That’s good,” you agree. You follow them through the house and out into the backyard, where Jake excitedly shows you the inflatable swimming pool he and Nathan put up yesterday. Sitting down on one of the chairs you watch him as he takes off his shirt and jumps in without hesitation. 

Nathan re-emerges from the kitchen with some iced tea and hands you a glass before he sits down somewhere next to you. He flicks your upper arm, “You good?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“Truth?”

“Truth,” you reply with a nod. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “a lot has happened in a short time, I guess.” 

This is new, you think, this out-in-the-open caring side of your brother. You decide you like it and so you try not to make a smart remark but instead reassure him, “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Nate, what are you getting at?” You’re confused now, because why is he pressing this? 

He hangs his head and lets out a sigh, “I guess you haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

“I’m not-” you watch him as he gets his phone and pulls up something that has his jaw set in a way that tells you whatever it is, it’s not good. He hands you his phone then and you let out a quiet, “Oh,” when you see the pictures.

“I figured that’s why you were here,” he says with a nod towards his phone.

"When?"

"Saw them this morning," he offers.

You scroll further down and feel your throat go dry when you see picture after picture of Sebastian and some girl, her hand on his arm as she seems to whisper something in his ear. He’s laughing in some of the pictures and if you didn’t know any better you’d think they were on a date. 

“Is that his co-star?” Nate asks quietly, knowing that if it is the pictures could have been taken on set and it wouldn’t be as bad. 

Not trusting your voice right now you just shake your head because no. No, it isn’t. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, babe,” Lauren tries again, but she sounds a little less confident now that she’s seen the pictures and read the accompanying article about Sebastian’s new mystery woman where they claim she’s a Greek local he fell for while filming ‘Monday’.

You drove straight to her house when you left Nathan’s in a hurry, but only after you promised him you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and now you’re on her balcony, trying to make sense of all of this over some hard liquor because you both deemed wine wasn’t going to cut it. 

She says something else then, but you’re not really listening and so you just continue to stare into the distance. She nudges you with her foot, “Call him.” 

You shake your head, “I don’t want to.” 

“Why not?”

You look at her with tears in your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper, “What if it’s true?”

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Seventy-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

I’m too fucking high for this right now. Harry thinks to himself as you explain your coffee chat with Seth. He may have been having a kickback with Sarah, Mitch, Gemma, and some other friends, and they may have started passing a bong around.

“Wait, so a guy you used to hook up with is bisexual and you want to set him up with Isaac?”

“Yes! Isaac’s so cute, and Seth is such a good guy, like, the best. Better than the best.”

“Please, keep tellin’ me how great Seth is, I love to hear it.” He says sarcastically.

“Oh, stop it. No one’s as good as you, that’s a given. Maybe I’ll pop by the studio tomorrow after work to see what Isaac thinks of all of it. If it works out we could all go on double dates and stuff.”

“Mmmmm, no.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Because then it would be like you two were on a date, and I don’t need that.”

“No it wouldn’t. I’ve never even been on a date with Seth.”

“But you dated.”

“No…we didn’t. Why are you getting mad about this?”

“Why are youuuu gettin’ so excited?”

“Are you okay? You’re talking funny.”

“Don’t I always talk funny to you, what with my accent?” Harry starts coughing and then starts to laugh. “Look, I can’t talk much longer, I have friends over.”

“Oh…sorry to bother you…”

“No! You weren’t botherin’ me!”

“Okay…well, bye.”

“Wait, now you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I can’t have friends over?”

“I never said that.”

“I told you I’d be hangnin’ with friends this week.”

“You did.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You hang up the phone and roll your eyes. Harry texts you immediately.

Harry: you’re mad at me :(

You: I’m not

Harry: you are

You groan and toss your phone on the sofa. You take a quick shower and come back to watch some TV with Buster. You have five texts from Harry.

Harry: Y/N?

Harry: where’d ya go?

Harry: love?

Harry: angel?

Harry: baby girl?

“Jesus Christ!”

You: I went to take a shower, get back to your friends

Harry: you didn’t tell me you were taking a shower

You: didn’t realize you needed a play by play

Harry: :(

You sigh and call him.

“Hello?” He says.

“Are you okay?”

“Nevah bettah.” His accent was extremely thick today.

“Harry…I feel like I always need to tell what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with, but you’re always very vague.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Okay, you wanna know what I’m doin’ then?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“I’m with my friends at my flat, and we’re blazed.”

“You’re high?”

“Yep. Makes me a little clingier than usual, m’sorry.”

You don’t say anything. You really didn’t like the idea of him toking up. You weren’t judging, you just didn’t understand the appeal.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are yeh disappointed?”

“No…I just don’t understand why you feel the need to do that.”

“It’s better than drinkin’ til I’m sick.”

“Is it?”

“I miss you. I miss you’re cute little face, and you’re-“

“Harry.” You smile. “Go back to your friends, babe. Go be a good little host, hm?”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You sigh and hang up the phone. You look at Buster who’s looking at you.

“Daddy is bonkers sometimes, Buster, absolutely bonkers.”

//

You were at the bar with your friends, one of the perks of being twenty-one, you could go out drinking and not have to worry about the cops showing up to bust you and your friends. Kate was busy with Kevin, and Sarah was busy with Ben. You rolled your eyes at them.

“Here.” Rachel says handing you a vodka-cranberry.

“Thanks.” You two clink your glasses and look over to the boys who were all playing pool.

“So, you and Seth, huh?”

“It was just one night. We haven’t hooked up since.”

“Why not? Thought you two were gonna do the friends with benefits thing.”

“We are…I think we’re both scared to make the first move again. I’m hoping tonight though. It was so good Rach.”

“Well, let’s go over there then. We can watch them play.”

You and Rachel walk over to Seth and Max, and a couple other guys. Seth smiles at you.

“Aw, you brought me a new drink, you shouldn’t have.” He says to you.

“Not yours.” You smirk.

“Can I get a sip?”

“Sure.” You hand it to him and he takes a sip. You watch as he licks his lips after.

“Thanks.” He hands it back to you. “You look hot tonight.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, you always look hot, but-“

“Seth, can we get back to it? It’s your turn.” One of the guys says.

He rolls his eyes and goes to make his shot. You and Rachel get bored and head to the dance floor. Seth looks for you and sees you dancing with her.

“Fuck this.” He says and goes out to the dance floor. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Not at all, she’s all yours.” Rachel pushes you towards him.

You giggle and back your ass up to his pelvis. His hands go on your hips and you start dancing together. You had danced with Seth plenty of times, but never really like this. He plants soft kisses on your cheek and neck. Your head rolls back to his shoulder.

“Wanna get out of here?” He whispers in your ear. You turn around and nod.

“Can we go to your place?”

“Course.”

He grabs your hand and leads you out. You make eye contact with Rachel quick and you nod at each other.

“You cold, want my jacket?” He asks, already taking it off.

“Yeah, thanks.” You put it on and feel warm instantly. His jacket smelt just like him.

He walks with his hands in his pockets on your decent to his off campus apartment.

“Sorry I haven’t really texted…” He finally says.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because…we fucked and you’re my friend and we didn’t really talk after.”

“I didn’t exactly reach out to you either.”

“Awkward, right?”

“Very awkward. Why is it so awkward?”

“I don’t know…I don’t regret anything.”

��Me either.” You smile at him.

“I think it’s just hard to find the balance, you know?”

“Seth, we don’t need to play by anyone’s rules but our own. If you wanna text me after we hook up, great, if not, it’s not a big deal. If you wanna hang out as friends and not fuck we can do that, and if you wanna hang out solely so we can fuck, then that’s cool too.”

“You’re awesome.” He throws an arm around you and it stays that way for the rest of the walk.

//

After work you head to the studio to see Mariah and Isaac. Mariah was outside getting some golden hour shots with a client.

“Hey!” Isaac says brightly to you. He walks around the desk to give you a hug, and gives Buster a treat.

“Hi! So good to see you.”

“How was London?”

“It was amazing. The weather was beautiful, and Harry was a prince as always. He’s a lot of fun to travel with.”

“I got to go with him once when had to travel for Plant Geo, so much fun. I turned twenty-one on the trip, he gave me my first shot.”

“Aww. How old are you anyways?”

“Just turned twenty-three a couple months ago.” You nod. “So, are you like super lonely without your man?”

“I think I would've been, but I have Buster so it’s not so bad. He keeps my head preoccupied.”

“We miss him a lot here. He’s so funny, and way more outgoing now that there aren’t people around to piss him off.”

“That’s great! I love hearing that kind of stuff.” You bite your bottom lip and grin at him.

“What’s that look for?”

“Okay, this may be out of left field for me to say to you, but you’re single right?”

“Y/N, you’re nice and all, and as much as I’d love to see Harry naked, I don’t think a threesome is the way to go.”

“Oh my god!” You start laughing. “No! Oh my god, nope, no, that’s not where I was going at all.”

“Oh!” He starts laughing. “Sorry.” He blushes.

“So you wanna see my boyfriend naked, huh?” You smirk.

“As if you didn’t know.”

“How ‘bout I do you one better?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a friend, a really good friend…we’ve recently reconnected. His name is Seth.”

“Seth?! As in ‘fuckin’ Seth Rowan’.” He says in Harry’s accent. “Didn’t you hook up with him back in the day?”

“How nice of Harry to air my dirty laundry with you.”

“To be fair I was trying to pry out of him why he was walking so funny one day, and he decided to tell me about Seth instead.” Your cheeks burn.

“Uh, right.” You cough nervously. “Anyways, Seth is bi…as he’s recently told me. Don’t be mad, but I showed him a picture of you and he said you were adorable.”

“Adorable? And bi? I don’t know, is he just looking to experiment?”

“No! He said he even dated a guy long enough that he introduced him to his family. I think he’s still trying to figure out in the grand scheme if he wants to be with a man or woman, but he also said he was very fluid, and you’re so sweet Isaac, I just thought-“

“Do you have a picture?”

“Tons! Hold on.” You pull out your phone and go to Seth’s Facebook.

“Oh my god…bitch you have a type.”

“Stop! They’re not that similar. Seth actually has way more tattoos than Harry. And Harry doesn’t have any piercings.”

“So this guy…said I was adorable? He looks too hard to say something like that.”

“Oh my god, Seth is the sweetest guy ever. He just has a slight punk exterior.”

“And you wanna set me up with him? That’s not weird for you?”

“Not at all.” You scoff. “We never dated, we were just friends who hooked up from time to time.”

//

Seth gets you into his room, and once the door is locked his tongue is down your throat. You feel the cool from his piercing against your tongue. His hands were cupping your face and yours were gripping the back of his shirt. You felt like you could kiss him forever.

“So are you gonna let me get a taste tonight, or what?”

“A taste?” You giggle. “of what?” He looks at you, down to your crotch, then back to your eyes.

“Oh! You actually wanna do that?”

“Um…yeah?” He kisses on your neck and you groan. “Don’t you wanna know what this feels like rubbing up against that little clit of yours?” He says into your ear. Goosebumps raise all over your body.

You kiss him against and tug his shirt up overhead. All clothes come flying off and you get on the bed. He kisses down your entire body and pushes your legs apart. The second you feel him against you, you gasp.

“Oh my god.” You say in surprise. “Wow, oh wow.” You tug at his hair. “Seth, holy shit.” You groan.

He looks up at you and smirks.

“I know it feels good, but I do have roommates.”

“Shit! Sorry.” You blush.

“I mean, it only feeds my ego, but I don’t need a pat on the back from them. Plus, poor little Maxy.”

“I’ll be quiet.” You push his head back down and you feel him chuckle against you.

You clasp a hand over your mouth as he continues to lick you up and down. Guys had gone down on your before, but not like this. Who knew a little piercing could feel so good? You tug at his hair harder when you feel your entire body get hot and your legs start to shake. You were panting and sweating and he made your body feel better than it ever had. He kisses your inner thigh as you catch your breath.

“Do you want me to, um…” You point to his throbbing cock.

“Nah, I’d rather just stick it in, that okay?”

“Yeah!”

He smiles and grabs a condom.

“Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“Sit against the headboard.”

He raises an eyebrow, but does as you say. You move to swing your leg over him but you don’t face him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and you kiss as you line him up with you. He groans as you sink down on him. His hands trail up to your breasts.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He nips at your earlobe. “Ready to go for a ride?”

“Mhm.”

//

“And you didn’t have any feelings for him?”

“Not like how you might think. I cared a lot about him, and he cared for me.”

“So you know how big his dick is then.”

“Yes.” You blush. He raises both his eyebrows at you, waiting for a better answer. “It’s huge man, it’s so fucking big.”

“Oh shit, really?”

“Yeah, like…I couldn’t walk right for like three days after we first hooked up. Thick too.”

“Oh, he got that girth?”

“He got that girth.”

“Shit.” He blushes. “Is it bigger than Harry’s?”

“Isaac!” You squeal.

“Oh come on, just tell me.”

“It’s…Harry’s…Harry’s is the best dick I’ve ever had, dude. Like, he just knows what to do with it. Like, it just hits all the right spots. Every time we do it, it’s like the first time. Like I always need time to adjust, even still. There’s no other dick that I’d want for the rest of my life.”

“Excuse me, I need a very cold glass of water.” He saunters over to the waiting area where there’s a glass water pitcher. You laugh at him.

“So, can I set you up with Seth or not?”

“I’d like that. It’s been a while since I’ve gone on a real date. How old is he?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Oh, well that’ll be nice. And what does he do?”

“He’s in sales.”

“Making that money, okay.” You smile.

“So like do you want me to set up a dinner for the two of you, or-“

“Can we do what you did with Mariah and have a double date?”

“I brought that up to Harry, and he didn’t seem thrilled…”

“Let’s join forces. If he has to look at the two of us while we ask, there’s no way he’d say no.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Thanks for thinking of me for this by the way.”

“No one else I could’ve thought of!” You two hug and decide to grab a quick bite to eat together before going home.

When you get home you take a leap of faith and call Seth.

“Hey Y/N!”

“Hi Sethy!”

“How was your day?”

“Good, how was yours.”

“Way too fucking hot, but it was good.” You laugh and agree with him. “So what’s up?”

“Well, I talked with my friend Isaac today…”

“Oh?”

“He’s interested.”

“I didn’t doubt that he would be.”

“Narcissist.”

“Bitch.”

“Whore.”

“Slut.”

“Okay!” You both laugh. “Jesus. Anyways, we wanna set up a double sate to take the edge off, but I have to convince Harry of it.”

“Oh, so he’s not into the idea of hanging out more intimately with a guy you used to have insanely hot sex with?” He asks sarcastically.

“Can you stop saying stuff like that?”

“Why, it making you all flustered?”

“No! You wish.” You hear him chuckle.

“I’m kidding, you know that right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, look, I think a double date is a great idea, and I hope you can get him on board with it.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to.”

“Just suck his dick, and keep sucking after he comes, you’re good at that.”

“Seth!”

“Oh, does he not know where you learned that?”

“I will murder you, I will come there and end your life. If we all go out and you can’t say things like that.”

“Obviously! I’m not stupid.”

“Jesus, you scare me sometimes, you really do.”

“When’s he come home, by the way? You lonely?”

“Why do people keep asking me that?” You sigh. “He’ll be home in three days. And I’m not super lonely, I have Buster.”

“Buster? Oh! Your dog.” He laughs.

“I can’t think about missing him too much or else I get kind of sad.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“More than anything. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Think you’ll marry him someday?”

“Definitely.”

“That’s nice. I’ve seen you cry over too many douches, I’m glad you’re with someone that can really take care of you.”

“He takes the best care of me, Seth. We take care of each other.”

You and Seth talk for hours. You tell him so many things about Harry, and he talks about some of his past relationships. You talk for so long you fall asleep with your phone in your hand.

//

There was a party at the boy’s place. You and Seth kept making eyes across the room. You had been hooking up pretty regularly. There was another girl at the party trying to get his attention. He was humoring her, but his eyes kept falling to you. He tells the girl he needs to use the bathroom, but his feet take him to you instead.

“Hey.” He says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Hi.” You smile and bite the rim of your cup.

“You drunk?”

“A little. You?”

“A little.” You both giggle. You put your hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, um, I know this is your party and you probably don’t wanna leave.” He starts laughing. “Come on let me do it.” He makes a serious face and you clearn your throat. “You probably don’t want to leave, but I need to get back to my apartment, and I don’t wanna walk alone.” You pout. “Would you be able to walk me home?”

“You know, it would be rude to leave my guests���” He looks you up and down. “But as a gentleman and a scholar, I find it to be my civic duty to make sure a pretty girl such as yourself get home safely.”

“So selfless of you.”

“What can I say? I live to serve.”

He smirks and puts an arm around you. You knew you’d have your room to yourself tonight. It was perfect.

“Do you have everything?”

“Mhm, got my purse right here.”

“Cool.”

He leads you to the front door and you both slip out.

//

“You look exhausted.” Niall says when he picks you up for work.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I was up all night on the phone.”

“Aww, you and Harry just miss each other that much?”

“I…wasn’t on the phone with Harry.” Niall gives you a confused look.

“Who could you possibly be on the phone with then?”

“Seth.”

“Y/N!”

“It’s not what you think! I’m setting him up with Isaac, remember? I spoke with Isaac yesterday and he’s into it. So I called Seth to tell him, and then he asked me all these questions about Harry. I pretty much mouth vomited about Harry. He told me about some of his relationships too. It was totally innocent. We used to talk all the time.”

“You’re a guy-friend girl.” He shakes his head.

“What?!”

“That’s your thing. You have the girls, but you I swear you prefer guy friends.”

“I suppose you’re not wrong. Guys are just so much easier…”

“That’s a load of bull.”

“Is not! Seth and I were friends for years and he was always easy to talk to. He still is. You’re really easy to talk too.” You grab his hand and give it a squeeze. “Niall?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m replacing you?”

“No.” He pouts.

“Niall!”

“What?”

“I’m not replacing you!”

“Course not, I’m the one you replaced Seth with.”

“Don’t do this, don’t be like this.”

“I can’t remember the last time we just talked on the phone all night.”

“You wanna call me tonight? Let’s have a phone call tonight.”

“No, now it’s a force.”

“Do…do you and Sarah want to come over for dinner tonight?”

“I think that would be nice, yeah.”

All men are babies. You think to yourself.

//

“That’s nice they’re comin’ over for dinner tonight. What are yeh havin’?”

“I’m grilling some veggies.”

“Nice!”

“I miss you.” Your voice cracks.

“Babe…”

“I wish you were home.”

“Two more days.”

“I know.”

“Please don’t cry, if you cry then I’m gonna cry and if I cry again I think my sister will murder me.” You start laughing and so does he.

“I just want you home…I’m sorry.”

“Just think, in like a week we’re gonna be at a nice beach house for like five days with all our friends for your birthday.”

“Yeah, it’ll be so much fun.” You hear your buzzer. “They’re here, I better go. I love you.”

“Love you too babe.”

You let Sarah and Niall in, and the three of you get settled outside.

“Mm, I didn’t even know you could grill veggies.” Sarah says. “This is yummy.”

“Thanks!”

“So…how’s Seth?” She smiles.

“Oh good, Niall told you we were talking.” You glare at him.

“Didn’t realize it was a secret.” He smirks.

“It’s not. And he’s good. I’m setting up with Isaac.”

“He’s gay?!” She nearly spits. “No fucking way, that man loves pu-“

“He’s bi…” You say before she can finish the sentence.

“Oh… well alright then.” She sits back and Niall is glaring at her. “What?”

“Nothin’.” He sips his water.

“He’s pretty excited to meet Isaac. I think they could be good together.”

“Isaac is so sweet, he deserves a little loving.” Sarah says.

“Exactly! The second Seth told me he was into guys I immediately thought of Isaac.”

//

The next couple of days go by agonizingly slow. You were going nuts without Harry. You and Seth text off and on, and Isaac texts you a bit too. Eventually the day comes where you’re supposed to pick Harry up at the airport. You take a half day from work to go get him.

You change into a cute pair of shorts and a short sleeve shirt to go pick him up. You drive up to the pick up area of Logan and see him just walking out. Everything felt like slow motion. He had his sunglasses on, a snapback, shorts and a t-shirt that says Girls Are Smarter on it. Your jaw drops. It was like you were seeing him for the first time ever. You park and immediately get out of the car. He smiles when he sees you. He drops his bag and picks you up as you jump into his arms.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He says as he kisses you.

“I missed you too.” You groan against his lips. He sets you down and you both rush into the car.

He keeps his hand on your thigh as you drive out of the airport, and squeezes it.

“Harry, we just need to make it home.”

“I know.” You were completely flustered.

“How, um, how was your flight?”

“Good.” He smirks.

“And, uh, the rest of your week? It was good?”

“Yup. How wet do you think your knickers are right now?”

“Harry, please. We’re twenty minutes from home, please.”

Buster yips from the backseat.

“Oh shit! I didn’t even see him, hey buddy!” Harry gives Buster his hand and he licks it.

You get up to your apartment, and through the door. Buster runs over to his bowl of water and then settles into his dog bed. You pin Harry up against the wall of the front hall and he raises both eyebrows at you. You grab his face and pulls him down for a kiss. Your tongue is in his mouth in seconds. His hands go to undo your shorts and yours move down to undo his.

You yank his shorts and boxers down, and kneel in front of him.

“Babe, I’ve just been on a plane for six hours, don’t you want me to-oh, okay, ngh, shit.”

He was already down your throat. You didn’t care about anything right now. You wanted him so bad. You look up at him while you swallow around him and his mouth falls open. You smirk at him and hollow your cheeks. You bob up and down on him and grown. His head rolls back to the wall.

“I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.” You suck on him faster. He grabs you and pulls you off.

“Wha-“

“Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls you to your feet. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”

He pulls you in for a kiss and walks you over to the couch. You each tug your shirts off, and he unhooks your bra. He kisses down your chest and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

“Ah, fuck.” You moan. He reaches a hand between your legs.

“Jesus, you’re soaked.”

“I want you so bad Harry, please just fuck me. Come on, take me on the couch.”

Harry sits down on the edge of the sofa and pats his legs you. You sit down on him, straddling him, facing him, taking him in.

“You look so tan.”

“Got outside for a bit.”

“Oh yeah?”

You sink your teeth into the crook of his neck and suck on him.

“Yeah.” He breathes.

You line him up with you and and sink down on him.

“Holy shit!” You yell. “Oh my god.” The familiar stretch from him was so satisfying.

“Fuckin’ missed you.” He slots his lips over yours and works his way to your neck and his arms press you close to him.

You move your hips in small circles at first, adjusting to him easier. You start to move up and down on him and he moans out. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth and tug at his hair as he thrusts up into you. You’re bouncing up and down on him at a delicious pace. You two continue to kiss each other sloppily.

Wet kisses trail down your neck to your chest as he sucks on your skin, leaving mark after mark. Your nails dig into his back and claw down when he starts to hit your g-spot.

“God, do that again.”

“It’ll leave marks if I do.”

“When have I ever fuckin’ cared about you leaving a mark on me?”

“Good point.”

He gives another sharp thrusts and your nails trail down his back again. He groans again. His hands on your hips move you faster and faster on him.

“Oh my god, Harry, fuck, I’m gonna come, baby, shit!”

You moan loudly and release around him. You rest your head against his shoulder as he continues to thrust up into you. He picks you up off of him and bends you over the side of the couch. You grin and gasp when he reenters you. He smacks you ass a couple of times as he rocks in and out of you. A hand snakes around to rub your sensitive clit.

His other hand is on the base of the back of your neck as he drives into you. Your hands grip the sofa and your knuckles turn white.

“Tell me how good it feels, Harry!”

“Feels so fuckin’ good!”

He rubs your clit faster and your legs start to shake. You come again, but he continues to pound into you.

“Fuck, Harry! I want you to come for me!”

“Yeah, you want me to fill that cunt up?”

“God, yes!”

His thrusts get sloppy, but they’re forceful. His comes shoots into you and you gasp at the feeling. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he pulls out of you. You stand up and turn around. You wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head against his chest. His arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head.

“My baby.” You coo. “My doll.” He chuckles and tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Can we go to the bedroom?”

“Mhm.” You smile.

“Do you have enough energy to, um…” You give his bum a little pat.

“Want me to take care of you?”

“Please, I’m desperate for it.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Well, not so much it, more so watching you do it to me.”

“I would love to take you in there, and make you feel so fucking good.” You kiss him. “Let’s go.”

//

You and Harry spent the entire afternoon in bed together, taking turns making each other feel good. You took care of that ass just like he wanted. Instead of going right to the bath though, he had you sit on his face. It wasn’t something you did often, but when you did it felt amazing. It was only a week apart, but it felt way longer.

You spent some time snuggling and giggling and talking. He showed you some pictures he took on his phone and you would steal kisses from him while he was talking. You were ravenous by the time it you would normally eat dinner.

“Wanna go out tonight, or are you exhausted?” You ask him.

“Yeah we could go grab a bite.” He smiles. “I need to shower though.”

“Me too.”

You both rinse off quick and get dressed.

“Where do you feel like goin’?” He asks as he gets a t-shirt on.

“Anywhere’s fine. Did you wanna see what Niall and Sarah are up to?”

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Yeah, I just wanna spend time with you.” You kiss him.

“We could go down to that pizza place that has the cauliflower crust.”

“Oh! Great idea.” You both leave the bedroom. “Buster, mummy and daddy are goin’ out. We’ll the TV on for you. We won’t be long.” He pats him on the head.

You both head out and start your walk to the pizza place. It was a beautiful night. Harry kept your hand in his. You feel your phone go off and see that it’s Seth.

“Hey!”

“Hey, how was your day?”

“Good, my doll is home.” You look up at Harry and smile.

“Oh that’s great! He fuck you up when you got home?”

“A little bit yeah.” You chuckle.

“Oh good, I’m glad.” He laughs. “I watched that movie you suggested last night, and it was as funny as you said.”

“Right?! I still can’t believe you had never-“ You look up at Harry. “Hey, w’re about to get dinner…”

“Oh shit, yeah, um, enjoy! Talk later?”

“Sure! I’ll text you.”

“Cool, bye!”

“Bye!”

Harry looks down at you as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“You didn’t have to rush off the phone.”

“I know, I just, wanna be in the moment with you, that’s all. I can talk to him anytime.”

You and Harry get into the pizza place and seat yourselves. A waiter comes over to take your order. You each order a beer for a drink as well.

“So…when did you want this super fun double date to happen?”

“Harry.” You sigh. “I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I just, like, what if this is all some elaborate scheme for him to steal you away from me. I mean, does he call you every day?”

“Not every day…but we’ve been talking more. Harry, he’s not interested in me, not like that. We never wanted a relationship with each other. It was strictly physical.”

“It could still be physical.”

“But I only want you.” You put your hand over his and squeeze it. “I only ever want you.”

“He’s a little similar to me, it freaks me out a bit. It’s like you have a type or somethin’.” You scoff and shake your head.

“Maybe on the outside you two have some things in common, but you’re two very different people, I can assure you.”

“And Isaac’s excited about him?”

“Very excited.” Harry sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

“Okay, after your birthday weekend, we can all go on a double date.”

“Really?” You beam at him.

“He seems important to you, and I’m tryin’ to be less jealous about the people in your life. I mean, my friend Sarah has been in my life for a long time and you didn’t get jealous once.”

“She’s with Mitch.”

“But still. You’re always so…secure.”

“Because I love you more than an anything Harry, you’re my everything.” He smiles at you.

“And you’re mine.”

[arthemis-forge]

Chapter 3 Body and Soul (Crimson)

Warnings: None (future nsfw)

A/N: Hello guys! Sorry for the delay, what happens is that I was a little busy with some personal things but I'm back.

I will try to update twice a week and each time as we progress through the story, make the chapters longer. Another thing is I didn't notice that the previous chapter i published the draft instead of the final version. Which had many otorgraphic and writing errors. But it's already corrected. If you find something let me know so I can fix it. Also I am very happy for all the support, thank you for your lovely comments. Another thing, Do you want me to create a tag list?. Please tell me in the comments. That's all I wanted to say. Enjoy your reading! 🖤

Chapter 3(Crimson)

Lost in my thoughts, I walked towards the exit of the building while i was looking at the sky with some concern. It wouldn't be long before the sun rise.

And honestly, I was very scared. I did'nt know anyone in this city and didn't know what time it was in the area. My life was in danger and although I was sure that I still had time based on what the sky looked like.

I was still very worried about not knowing what time it was exactly. Looking at my watch was in vain. It was scheduled for London time not New York.

I was very nervous but I had to calm down. So i calculated that there were 2 hours left until the sun rise. And although it sounds like it's a lot of time, I don't know how much traffic there is in this city. And I needed to be in the nearest hotel as soon as posible.

Again I was so lost in my thoughts that I did not notice that a taxi parked in front of me, it was not until I heard the drivers voice that I noticed it.

—Good night miss, are you waiting for someone else? Or do you need me to take you somewhere? —

Hearing that question made me feel more relaxed again.

—Sure, I actually have nowhere to go. Could you recommend a hotel near here. One with good facilities. The price point doesn’t matter but I really need to get a good place to relax, preferably the closest hotel to the airport.—

I told him as I opened the door and carried my suitcase.

—Of course ma'am, in fact we are close to many good hotels. They are a few streets away. Would you like me to take you to see the exteriors and based on how they look you choose one?. I assure you that they are all very good, some more than others but none are bad. —

The man smiled while he waited for my answer.

I sighed feeling realised.

—Yes please, I would like it very much. —

The man laughed as he drived the car.

—You are not from here are you? I can tell by your accent. —

I nodded as i looked out the window. Analyzing the area I was in.

—That's right, I'm from London. I was transferred from my job. —

—That's so interesting. Sounds like fun to have a job where you travel a lot. —

—Well yeah you're not wrong. But I also needed to start a new life. —

I confessed while we entered to a large avenue with many buildings with hotels and apartments. Some were prettier than others.But nothing look bad about them.

—Is one of you liking? Or do you want me to go further so you can see more options?. —

The truth is that I could already choose one of the many hotels that were on the street. And I couldn't be so demanding, since i needed a safe place away from natural light as soon as possible. But a hunch told me to accept the man's proposal.

—Sure, I think we can see a few more options.—

No matter how much the car moved forward, nothing interested me. It wasn't until we reached the corner of the avenue that a large black building with Victorian architecture caught my attention. On the outside it had an ad with red calligraphy that said "Crimson".

—Stop here, I like this one. —

I pointed to the old building.

—I’m sorry to tell you this, but that hotel is very strict. They do not allow the entry to anyone who doesn't have a membership. It has already happened several times that I leave people here and they end up removing them from the place.—

—Don't worry I will try to enter. If i can´t then I’ll choose one of the hotels that are on this street. How much do I owe you? —

—If you insists, it’s $30 dollars.—

I nodded as I handed over his money.

—Thank you very much, also keep the change. —

I took my suitcase and closed the car's door as I approached the entrance of the building. However I was stopped at the door by a very tall man with brown hair and grey eyes.

— Good night, Miss. Could you give me your membership please. —

Embarrassed, I bit my lower lip and then proceeded to do something I didn't wanted.

—You're going to let me in no matter the rules of the place or what your bosses say. —

I smiled already knowing the results of my action. The man nodded and then open the door for me.

Once inside I noticed that a tall girl with black hair and violet eyes smiled at me as she applauded me.

—That was so wesome, Alice. Just as I expected, James didn't cause you any trouble. —

The girl approached very excited.

—Who are you and why do you know my name?—

I asked very confused and feeling insecure. Since she was aware of what I had just done and the worst thing was that she knew my name. This was getting very strange and I was not liking it.

—I am Grace Crimson. Owner of the hotel and great friend of your Boss Nat. —

—Do you know Nat? —

I said in a very incredulous voice.

—Of course Alice. But hey that is the least important thing right now, let me show you your room and I give you Nats phone number so you can call her.—

While I was trying to process the information, one of the attendants took my suitcase.

—Did Nat tell you in any way that I will come here? —

She just laughed at my question.

— I knew you'd say that. Don't be silly, honey. You are acting like a newborn vampire in the clan. Look dear, I'll explain. I can see the future. Today I had a vision of you in which I saw you giving orders to my guard right outside my hotel. It should be noted that I was concerned, because I didn't knew who you were, so I called all the offices until I found some information about you. To at least make sure that you weren't dangerous to us and to be able to take the necessary measures. By the way, I don't want you to feel bad about what I told you. But these are difficult times and we must take care of each other. —

Of course she was right, what a fool I was. I have been so involved in my personal feelings and problems that I overlook the fact that many in our community have that ability.

—Don't worry, it's okay Grace. I understand. I know how the security protocol works. And I also understand perfectly that you investigated me and that you needed to know who I was. —

I confessed.

—I already knew you were going to say that tho. Hey you are more friendly and understanding than I expected from someone who can control people's minds with their voice. No ofence but your kind is usually a very pretentious. —

I couldn't help laughing at that comment.

—I was like that many years ago, but someone changed me. I try not to abuse my powers too much, only when it’s necessary. —

I lowered my gaze to caress a silver ring with a red diamond that I had on my ring finger.

When she saw how my mood changed, she immediately hug me.

—Don't torment yourself over the past. —

She took me by the hand to walk me through those long corridors of the building. I must admit that I felt a little emotional. The place reminded me a lot of my grandmother's house.

—Here is your room, as you can see it is very spacious, it has a king size bed, living room, bathroom with a bathtub and a beautiful balcony. Also here is Nat's phone number. And don't forget to close all the curtains including the ones on the bed. —

She handed me the keys, a red card and a pos it with Nat’s new number.

—James leave the suitcase on her bed. —

The man obeyed her order and put the suitcase on my bed.

—Sure Grace. Thank you very much for all the hospitality. It has been a long time since I felt welcomed in a place. —

She smiled

—I know we are going to be very good friends. —

After that she closed the door behind me.

It's amazing how someone's life could change in an instant.

One day you are in London crying for your ex and the next day you are in New York and you're dreaming with a man who doesn’t even exist.

Thinking about that, I began to close all the curtains in the room and then i took the phone from the bureau next to the bed.

With some fear I called her, I knew that she would be very upset with me. But i had to do it.

—Hey nat it's me, Alice. —

—You are an idiot, I was so worried! Never do that to me ever again! I thought you wanted to kill yourself or something like that...

You sounded so sad. God you have take some therapy you can't continue living like this...—

I sigh very annoyed.

— Anyway, I already spoke with Bruce and he already gave you permission to work in New York. And before I forget to tell you this. Tomorrow you have a job to do. I need you in a bar, we think we found someone who can serve us for the clan. You will have to go to a concert near a local bar in the town. Grace will leave you the papers with the man's information.—

—Perfect. By the way, thank you very much for the favor. You don't know how grateful I am with you. Anyways, I will leave you, I am very tired and I would like to sleep as much as possible to be in the best possible conditions tomorrow—

—Of course dear. Have a good night. —

Grateful to Nat, I hung up the call and then closed my eyes. But not without first remembering Peter's beautiful green eyes.

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 6

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge of art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

I’m Your What Now?

Ah, Columbia University. The pride and joy of New York. The mecca for philosophical thinking and scientific advancement.

It kept only the cream of the crop. Sons and daughters of the wealthy, valedictorians, and exceptionally bright international students. The future president. The next Plato. Another Einstein.

There was a certain standard that came with being a student here. The ooh's and ah's and the jealous eyes that bore into their backs were natural for these Ivy League students.

And yet as Steve stood there he found it to be like the overpriced Catholic school he spent twelve torturous years at. After school, he didn't really see a reason to go to university. His future was predetermined and he had no desire to go against it.

Steve wasn't stupid. He was intelligent. An expert in combat and tact and a mogul in the business world. His performance was better than his peers with their fancy degrees and certifications. He had them under his foot and they only moved when he let them.

It just went to show that knowledge and wisdom didn't come from going to a fancy school. It came from experience and hard work, rigor, and determination. But even so, he couldn't help but feel an odd sense of pride in his chest when he learned you attended Columbia.

Mrs. Rogers, you genius woman.

He sprinted up the steps and in towards the overarching gate. It was like a world populated by teenagers. Here, twenty-five was considered middle-aged. They milled around clad with backpacks and textbooks usually in a small group of three or four. Some passed by on bikes while others strutted to the beat of their music.

There were a plethora of styles. Punks and goths. Preps and jocks. Basic white girls with their leggings and UGGs. Snazzy poets in all black and topped with berets. Those avant-garde chicks that had an aesthetic like none other. Diversity was key at Columbia. The world was being represented here.

Steve passes by, following google maps on his phone to find the Student Resource Center in a hope to find you there.  

A day ago…

"Okay," Sam sighed, holding a paper in his hand with a laptop sitting on Steve's desk. "Quentin Beck, a biochemical engineering student at Columbia. Around twenty-one years old and is most likely a total geek."

"Hey," Steve warns. Bucky snickers like a child, chomping loudly on some potato chips.

"Sorry," Sam replied. "No social media accounts. Not even an old facebook. You sure this chick's not a hermit?"

"She's probably focusing on her studies. She's diligent."

"You're defending her as if you know her," Bucky piped up.

"I do know her," Steve said.

"Yeah, that's why you're googling her like a pervert."

"Shut up before I punch your teeth out."

"Anyways," Sam called them back. "She's on the school website."

"She is," Steve pushes him to the side. "Lemme see."

"There's no picture. It's just a list of tutors."

"She's a tutor? Smart chicks are so hot."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I can hear your heart pounding all the way over here," he said lazily while sitting at his desk.

"Get your dirty shoes off my desk."

"Make me," Bucky taunted.

"So it's got hours of availability here," Sam said scrolling down. "Like when she's working."

"Ya know Sam I know you're a freak and all, but this is low, even for you," Bucky said, his feet still on the desk and his right hand greasy with potato chips. "I didn't know you were as big of a creep as Stevie."

"I wouldn't be talking, Mr. I stalk my ex's insta at four in the morning." Sam retorted, making Steve chuckle.

"I don't!"

"Bro, I saw you the other day!"

"What the hell are you doing at my house at four in the morning, you freak?"

Nat walks in to see the three lazing around and sighs. Sam quickly slams the laptop shut and Bucky slips his feet off the desk.

"What are you three doing?" She asked.

"Nothing," Steve smiled.  

"For NY’s biggest mob man, you sure do suck at lying." He frowns. "You're also pretty horrible at signing your own damn name on important papers." She said, waving a paper in her hand. "What the hell are these hearts?"

"That's not me!" He retorted with a light blush. "How do I know it's not you?”

"You really think I have the time to do that?" She snapped at him. "We've got shipments coming in today and you have a meeting with the Gambino head tomorrow. Do you have anything prepared?"

"No…" he whispered.

"Am I the only one working around here?!" She shouted making the three cringe at her shrill voice. "What have you three been doing all morning anyway?"

"Planning," Bucky spoke up and Steve whipped his head towards him. Bucky if you say anything.

"Planning?"

"Yeah, we're planning Steve's wedding."

Nat almost snaps her neck by the way she turns to look at him. Her red locks bouncing around as she turns. She gapes at him with a million questions.

Steve sighs, rubbing his face with his hands in embarrassment.

"Stevie, you're getting married?!?!"

"Sn2 Reactions have bulky bases and only occur when you have…" you said, snapping your finger to remember what comes next. "Wait, don't say it," you stop Quentin. "Primary carbocations!"

"Correct," he smiled, looking up at you from the flashcard in his hand. "Man, you're just killing it today."

"I've been studying," you informed. "...and living in Chubbic's office.

"And it shows," Quentin chuckles.

Tutoring was slow today with only a student here and there, leaving you and Quentin with some prime time to study.

"I swear all you ever do is study," Quentin said.

"No, I don't," you denied. "Last night, I played Overwatch till three."

"Okay, scratch that, you're a geek." Quentin corrected. You huffed.

"No, I am not," you retorted.

"Y/N, you don't do anything but school and work. You don't even go to parties or socialize with other people."

"People are overrated. I have better things to do with my time."

"Like what?"

"Like...stuff," you said.

Quentin rolls his eyes. "You can't keep living a shelled life, Y/N. It's not healthy."

"I don't see how it isn't."

"You have to go out and make friends. You're gonna go crazy if you sit in your apartment forever," Quentin sounded like a mom.

"Quentin, my dude, it's the 21st century. Technology exists."

"That's not good for you either!" Quentin sassed then sighed. "All I'm saying is that you should be more open. Not everyone is out to hurt you."

You sink in your chair with a frown. You look out the window of the second floor to watch people walk by meters below. "But that’s how it always is in the end," you murmured. Quentin frowns. "Besides what do I need anyone else for? I have you."

Quentin's heart skips a beat, but he tries to ignore it. "But what if I'm not here? What if I have to leave?"

You sit up. "Where are you going?"

"I applied for this internship for this company in London."

"Wow, Quint! That's great!" You exclaimed. "I know you'll get it!"

"Thanks," he chuckles at your enthusiasm. "But I just worry about you sometimes. You're going to be all alone if I leave and I worry if you'll be alright."

"Then I'll call you every day!"

"Y/N," Quentin said with a lopsided smile. "I'm being serious."

You exhaled, masking the fear of him leaving by giving him a bright smile. One that's always only been for him. "Don't worry about me, alright? I'll be fine. You go out there and show 'em what you're made of. You're gonna kill it."

"Yeah?" He asked and you can sense the nervousness in his shaking hands.

"Like my good friend Naruto once said…" you alluded. "Believe it!" You said, giving him a thumbs up.

Quentin groans while crossing his arms. "You still watch that crap?"

"It's cool!" you defended.

"I swear you're a nerd."

"Hey, Quentin," Angelica from the front desk called walking towards you.

"Yeah?"

"There's a guy at the desk asking for you," she pointed.

"For me?" He asked puzzled. She nodded before leaving.

He gets up to leave. "I'll be right back. E1 reactions are next," he reminded. You nodded with a chuckle and took the cards he left.

Quentin walks up to the desk to find a blonde dressed stylishly at the front desk, chatting up one of the employees.

“Oh, Quentin,” Maria at the desk said as he arrived. “This is Mr. Rogers.”

Steve turns to look and his shoulders drop. “Uh, sorry, I think they’ve got the wrong person.” Quentin furrows his brows in confusion. “I’m looking for a Quentin Beck.”

“Um, I’m Quentin Beck,” he replied awkwardly, shaking the photo id that was around his neck.

“No, no,” Steve shakes his head. “I’m looking for a girl and her name is Quentin Beck.”

“There’s only one Quentin Beck here and he’s a man and it’s me,” he said in the nicest way possible.

Steve snorts. “Just because you grew a little beard doesn’t mean you’re a man,” he guffawed.

Quentin blinks once and then twice and a third time for good measure. “Excuse me?”

Back over at the table, you wondered what was taking Quentin so long. Taking a sip from your Hydroflask, you crane your neck to get a view of the front desk. The head full of blonde hair and spread of broad shoulders was hard to miss. You choked while drinking. Quickly placing your bottle on the table, you pat your chest in need of air.

What was he doing here?

You quickly jump up and run to the two. Steve catches you in the corner of his eye and pushes past a fuming Quentin.

“I knew I’d find you here!” he exclaimed.

“What the hell are you doing here, you freak?” you seethed.

“What do you think?” Steve chuckled, loving the way you pouted at him. “Here to see you, princess.”

Your cheeks burst in color and before you could say anything Quentin spoke.  

“Y/N, you know this guy?” he asked.

“Y/N, so that’s your real name,” Steve takes both of your hands in his. His smile is so bright that you cringed under him. “I knew it wasn’t Quentin. I mean it doesn’t even make sense,” he starts to ramble and you just listen. “To think someone as pretty as you would have a name as ugly as Quentin. Like who the hell names their kid Quentin these days anyway?”

“Ah, Y/N,” Steve sighs dreamily. “It’s like a sweet melody to my ears.”

You tried to reply, but all you could let out was a garbled jumble of words.

“Quentin’s a good name!” your brunette friend jumped in.

“Yeah, if it’s the 18th century,” Steve deadpanned, before turning back to you. “Anyways…”

“Y/N, who the hell is this guy?” he questioned irritated.

“Uh, well, you see, um…” you tried to explain.

“Been keepin’ me a secret, huh, baby?” Steve chuckled. “I’m Steve, a friend.”

“We aren’t friends,” you hissed, breaking from his grasp. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone, huh?”

“Wait,” Quentin butt in. “Is he that guy?” he pointed at Steve while looking at you. “Is he the bad guy?”

“Bad guy?” Steve asked you, making you blush under his gaze. “So you have been talking about me? Y/N, sweetheart, I ain’t a bad guy. I promise I’ll be nothing but good to you,” he said with a wink.

It’s like every ounce of sass inside of you is gone and you’re left speechless. Screw this man and his way with words.

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his soft plump lips before Quentin butts in and swipes your hand.

“Yeah, she told me about you,” he hurls at him, his voice firm and his grip on your hand firmer. “Who the hell do you think you are, messing with my girlfriend?”

Steve is taken aback by his words and you gape at Quentin. You’re his what now?

Quentin looks towards you and sends a message with his eyes. Just play along.

“Y-yeah,” you stumbled at first, “Quentin’s my boyfriend and I like his name! Actually I love it because I love him.” you straight up lied. Steve’s brows creased in irritation and he had the biggest frown on his face. You wrap your arms around Quentin’s. “So leave me alone, freak,” you hissed at him.

Now it’s Steve’s turn to be speechless. Your words pierce through his heart like a bullet. It’s like being shot in the core of his spirit over and over again until there’s a big gaping hole.

“Listen, jackass,” Quentin calls him back. “If you even look in my girlfriend’s direction, I’ll rip your eyes out,” he threatened, before turning around and taking you with him.

“Wow,” you whispered to him. “I think he bought it.”

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he said, clearly dissatisfied.

“Shut up and kiss me on the cheek.”

“What?” he freaked out with a light red creeping on his cheeks.

“Just do it,” you ordered quietly. “And wrap your arm around my shoulders.”

He sighed. “The things you make me do,” he groaned, making you chuckle quietly. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek while hooking his arm over your shoulders protectively. He turns his head to see Steve still standing there. His face twisted in a scowl and fists balled so tight you could see white in his knuckles.

Quentin’s sharp blue eyes locked with his own. His gaze was as deadly as a violent act with an intensity that had the fearless mob man’s chest tighten. His eyes drilled out any notion that it could all be a hoax. Either he was a really good actor or there really was something between the two.

Whatever it was, Steve stood still with a strange sense of deja vu. He was a hopeless romantic and hopeless in all things that concerned love. And as he watches your retreating form chuckling at something the boy whispered in your ear, he regrets even thinking he had another chance at love.

[foreverwcnter]

home is where the heart is

pairing — tom holland x reader

warnings — some abuse (one scene), slight angst, fluff.

summary — “when i look at you, i can feel it. i look at you and i’m home” y/n and tom were very close in their teenage years and in love, but when he was cast as spider-man, they split and moved on. years later they meet again.

author’s note — this is for @fairytaleparker and @neverlandparker ‘s disney writing challenge! i love you both so much and i hope you enjoy this so much! this is inspired by the great gatsby.

Years ago, there were two lovers. At fifteen, they went on their first date, holding hands gently, swinging their arms and laughing. There were feeling shared between small glances and small blushes. The first kiss was tense and awkward, but the second was comfortable and sweet. It was like a perfect fairytale, but one without the trials and triumphs. There were no slaying dragons, but they managed to slay any issues coming their way. The relationship was soft, sweet and irreplaceable.

These sweethearts believed they would live a long life together, but of course, the inevitable happened and an issue came between them. They split paths, went their own ways and left history behind them. Years passed and all feelings had been left behind... right?

You were spending your life as a writer while getting an English degree. Life couldn’t be better for you. You had a new boyfriend, and you were living your best life. Everything seemed perfect and was turning out perfectly. You and your boyfriend Marc were on a date going to your favorite cafe in London. 

As you stepped in, you gripped Marc’s hand, smiling to yourself as the aroma of the coffee, tea, and other delicacies flooded the air. You were quick to get in line to order your drinks, still holding hands and standing close to each other. 

“I’ll order for us, your usual right?” Marc smiled.

“Yep! I’ll grab us a table.”

You headed off to the corner booth, taking your seat and your phone out of your pocket, rereading an email your professor sent to you about your most recent essay before you heard a voice you hadn’t heard in a million years.

“Y/n, hey.”

You looked up, setting your phone down only to meet the eyes of your former lover. Tom. Tom stood there in all his glory, his normal stupid smile on his face. it was the same smile and pair of eyes you fell in love with so long ago. You wanted to tear your eyes away from his, but something prevented you. It was like you dove right back into the past, the one where you loved Tom until he moved away so suddenly. You were glad you didn’t hold him back though because he accomplished so much without you there. A tap on your shoulder broke you from your trance, turning to look over at Marc.

“Who is this?” Marc asked, eying Tom.

“Oh,” you paused, standing up by your chair. “Marc, this is Tom my ex-boyfriend and Tom this is Marc, my boyfriend.” 

A flash of hurt and heartbreak was seen in Tom’s hazel brown eyes. He should have expected it. You both had been told to move on after you break up and that's what you did. Tom didn’t though. He’s turned girls down and said he only went on a date with said girls because they reminded him of you and your beautiful face. Tom was still holding onto your hand in his head, but you started holding someone else’s. 

“Good to meet you, Marc,” Tom smiled, shaking your boyfriend’s hand politely. “I see you’re treating her very well, you guys look great together. “ Tom prevented his voice from cracking during those sentences. 

“Thanks, we’ve been very happy this past year and we just got a flat together,” Marc smiled. “Join us for coffee will you?”

Tom nodded and you and Marc sat across from him in the booth. The conversation was slightly awkward and tense, so you all worked around it instead of making it more comfortable. That was until Marc got a call from his office. “Be right there,” he hung up, kissing your cheek. “I’ve got to go, there were some issues at the office.” 

“Bye, love.”

You sighed, watching him walk off and then looking back to Tom. 

“I didn’t expect you to move on, to be honest,” Tom sighed, looking down shamefully. “I never did after all. “

“Tom, I didn’t want to hold you back from such an amazing opportunity. You know there would have been issues if we stayed together all that time. I didn’t want to face those issues at the time,” you explained, looking to Tom with a sad expression. “I didn’t want to stay so attached to a past lover, so I started going out with a few guys, none of them seemed to fit my expectations until I met Marc.” 

Tom took a sip of his tea, frowning to himself. He knew it was stupid to think you still loved him the way you used to. He wasn’t going to say anything about it though.

“Can we still be friends, Tom? I missed you and I want to spend time with you still.”

Tom nodded, taking a deep breath to concentrate. “Let me walk you home.”

After finishing your drinks, you walked side by side to the direction of your apartment. You were talking about your jobs and how you’ve made your successes.

“I actually wrote a novel which is published.” You smiled to yourself. Tom gave a look of amazement, his jaw dropping only slightly.

“Y/n, that’s amazing. I’ll have to read it soon.” 

“Well, I’ll have to watch your superhero movies soon, I haven’t been able to see them yet because of how busy me and Marc have been.” 

Tom nodded before a light bulb appeared over his head and he had an amazing idea. “How about tomorrow night I bring the movies over and we could have a marathon?” He pleaded in his head for you to say yes. He was trying to find excuses to spend more time with you.” 

“Of course, would you want to have more coffee tomorrow beforehand? I don’t have work tomorrow so my whole day is free.” They stopped outside the flat building and Tom eagerly nodded. 

After parting ways, you headed inside, changing into more comfortable clothes as you started to make dinner for that night. When Marc arrived home, you quickly told him you’d be going to the cafe again with Tom just to catch up and that Tom would be coming over as well afterward. It was clear Marc seemed a bit tense over the situation.

“Don’t you think it is a little weird for you to be hanging out with your ex?“ Marc asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “I mean, everyone usually hates their ex after dating. I mean I do. The girl was a psycho.” 

“Marc, she wasn’t a psycho, you were expecting too much from her while she was trying to help her family,” you explained. “I’m not going to go back to Tom because I love you. My feelings for him are long gone.” 

Right?

The next day, you and Tom enjoyed yourselves at the cafe, chatting and talking about your accomplishments and other dreams. It was a fun and light conversation filled with old inside jokes and stories. Every now and then silence would fall and a look of regret would be on your faces. Part of you regretted breaking up with Tom and going separate ways, but the other part of you knew it had been for the best and would have avoided any conflicts. Tom, on the other hand, wanted you back more than anything. You were still the angelic, funny, sweet young woman he used to know and he missed those days where you were his and he was yours. It was over now. Marc was now yours and you were now Marc’s. Tom couldn’t take that away. 

 The movie marathon was filled with laughs and funny comments until Marc got home. “Marc, come watch the movies with us?” You grinned, waving for him to come to sit with you. Tom scooted over away from you both slightly as Marc sat next to you, allowing you to rest against him for the movies. Those moments were tense for Tom. He wanted to be the one holding you. He wanted to keep you close and kiss your forehead sweetly. It was too bad Marc was there instead.

The next few weeks were filled with meetings at the coffee shop, hanging out together and more. You and Tom were close again. Close friends though. You’d never cheat on Marc or anyone for that matter. Marc didn’t seem to take it very well though. He was not trustful and was getting more possessive and controlling even. One day, you were going to the coffee shop to work on your next novel since Tom was too busy to hang out, but Marc had other plans.

“Y/n, are you going to hang out with Tom?” He asked you, standing in front of the door.

“No, I’ve got my novel to work on, Marc. I need to finish this chapter,” you explained, putting your laptop into your bag carefully and making sure you had the charger. 

“You’re lying, aren’t you.”

“No…” you responded, eyeing Marc suspiciously. “I’m not. I have to work on my novel, Tom is busy today, he’s got a family thing.” You tried moving past Marc to get to the door but then he did something shocking. Grabbing your shoulders, he shoved you against the door forcefully. “Marc!”

“You’re not to see him again, Y/n, I won’t allow it,” Marc practically growled, eyes dark as if his soul had left his body. You stared into his eyes with fear and helplessness.

“You are not to decide who I am to be friends with or not,” you shouted at him, trying to shove him off of you. Marc lost it then. His rage encompassed him and he didn’t hold back. He threw a punch straight at your face, your nose breaking under the pressure. You fell to the ground, eyes widening in horror and wincing from the pain. “What the hell, Marc?!” He didn’t stop at that though. He punched you again, this time hitting your eye. You didn’t pause for a second, grabbing your bag and running out of the flat and out of the building. Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you ran away from the madman still standing in your flat.

You ran and ran and ran and ran. It was a nightmare. This wasn’t what you needed. Your nose was still bleeding and eye bruising quickly but you had to get to the safest place you knew of, even if you were intruding on a family dinner. Once you arrived at the nice house, you knocked on the door urgently, wiping blood onto your sleeve from your nose. 

Luckily it was Tom there to greet you.

“Y/n? Oh my god, come inside,” he ushered you in, your tears still falling as you sniffled a little. “What happened?” 

Your bottom lip wobbled uncontrollably as you tried to speak. “Marc- I was going to the cafe to work on my next book and Marc, he thought I was seeing you again and he didn’t want me to go. He didn’t- want me to see you even as friends. I tried going past him and he-” you broke into a fit of sobs before Tom’s arms wrapped around you as he pulled you into his chest, not caring if blood from your broken nose was getting on his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. You can stay here the night, I don’t want you going back there without me.” He rubbed the small of your back gently before pulling out of the hug. “Let’s get your nose cleaned up.” 

Leading you to the kitchen, he quickly grabbed a wet washcloth and started cleaning the blood off of your nose and around it. He was very gentle with you, eyes filled with a certain kind of worry as he held his hand against your cheek and pressed the wet cloth against the side of your nose, trying to clean up the blood. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped and you were finally cleaned up. 

“Tom,” you began, gently grabbing onto his other hand. “I’ve been thinking, a lot recently. We’ve become so close again and I started enjoying your company more than I did Marc’s. I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same about being with Marc after seeing you again.”

“Y/n…”

“Tom, I love you,” you finally stated, staring into his honey brown eyes. “I always have. I could never turn you down again. I still care for you, I miss you when you aren’t around. I feel so empty without you. I loved you then, I loved you now. I’ll love you forever.”

Tom bit his lip, staring at you with his loving eyes with the most adoring expression. “I love you more than you could ever, know, Y/n. When I look at you, I can feel it. I look at you and I’m home. You’ve always been home to me, Y/n. When I saw you again I told myself, This is the universe saying you are the most important thing in my life, but when I saw Marc with you, I almost gave up hope until we kept talking. I love you so much. Marc doesn’t deserve someone as kind and trustworthy and loyal as you. “

You smiled lightly, looking up at Tom with love. You leaned closer and pressed your lips to his, noses brushing and smiling into the kiss. Your arms wrapped around him as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. Passion, love, and adoration were all poured into the kiss. The love you shared was unmatchable and the bond was unbreakable. You would both take things step by step into the future. 

Tom was your home and you were Tom’s home. Your hearts would lay with each other forever.

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