#yall have no idea how long i spent trying to figure out what side of the die was under his fuckin face

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k words

warnings: explicit language, a bunch of other good things that i don’t wanna say because i don’t want to completely spoil everything<333

summary: an unexpected conversation between you and steve leads to a long overdue realization 

quick a/n: a bit nervous to post this one lol but i hope yall enjoy🫶🏾

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | ❝𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕❞

Summer 2017

“I’m a little upset that I didn’t get the grand hometown tour.”

“You mean the tour of the old library that I spent probably too much time at back in high school, and the park that I also really liked back in high school, but it’s currently under construction?”

Eddie gave you an amused smile. “Yes, exactly that.”

“Next time,” You told him, completely joking with your words, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he actually held you to them the next time he was here. But, you honestly didn’t think that there’d be another moment when he was in your hometown; this moment in itself felt almost like a fluke.  

After a five week long road trip with Eddie, you still weren’t ready to be home— you dreaded it, actually— but things had started getting too expensive and Eddie’s van was in dire need of a break. 

You did most of the driving to your hometown because you knew that Eddie would have to do all of the driving alone back to his own home. And then he stayed with you for the night at your dad’s house. You didn’t even have to do any sort of introduction between the two because your dad was off on a vacation with his new girlfriend.

Now it was the morning and you two lingered by Eddie’s van, prolonging the conversation because the next time you’d see each other would be a little over four weeks— when you moved into your apartment with Robin, Vickie, and Talia, and he moved in with two people that he found at the last second; luckily, your respective buildings weren’t far from each other, so it wouldn’t feel impossible to see each other. 

You pulled Eddie in for a hug, a long one that felt so equivalent to a goodbye and it actually managed to sadden you a bit because of how good the last five weeks had been and it sucked that it was all over now. 

When you pulled back, you gave him a smile. “See you in four weeks, Edward.”

He laughed a little. “See ya.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Maybe things should’ve felt at least a little weird or awkward between you and Steve in this moment in the library— it had been a month since the last time you two talked— but it didn’t. At all. 

It was all so surprisingly easy. The small talk wasn’t even unbearable; you liked hearing about the mundane things he’d been up to for the past month and you didn’t mind sharing your own stories about classes you’d come to hate and how you didn’t feel all too prepared for finals because you had more essays to do than actual tests. And then you two moved into random bits of nothing, asking the first thing you could think of or filling the silence with storytimes or quick anecdotes, and whispering the entire time so that you didn’t disturb everyone else in the library right then. 

You two probably should’ve moved somewhere else, but it felt as if the entire moment would’ve been broken if you did so. Logical thinking would’ve sunk in on your side of things and you would’ve realized that all of this was a bad idea and you should’ve left, or perhaps never sat down across from him on this carpeted floor in the first place.

“Did you decide what you’re going to do with your summer of freedom?” You asked him instead of leaving or even thinking about doing so. You were mainly joking with your question and just trying to think of something to say, but still, you were a little curious. 

“I think I’m gonna do the Europe thing. Go alone,” He told you. “It’s loosely planned right now, but I’ll fully figure it out after finals.”

“Ooh, that’s very Eat, Pray, Love of you,” You joked. 

He laughed a bit. “Thanks, I think?”

“I’ve actually never seen that movie before, but from what I think I know of it, it felt fitting to mention it.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?”

“Nothing exciting, really,” You answered with a quick shrug. “I think I’m just gonna stay around here. Robin and Vickie are doing some summer classes, and even though I’m not taking any, staying in the apartment for the summer sounds much better than going home the entire time.”

Steve nodded. “With what you’ve said about your parents, that makes sense.”

“Exactly,” You nodded back. “So, if you get bored of Europe— which I highly doubt, but still— please feel free to come to any of our apartment movie nights and sleep on our couch at any point during the summer.”

You realized way too late what exactly your words implied— that you two were friends, that this moment in the library wasn’t and shouldn’t be a one-off thing. And your brain was quickly rushing you to fix what you said. “Or, I guess, that wouldn’t really make sense since we’re not friends or whatever…”

You could recognize that it was a pretty shitty attempt at backtracking, but all Steve needed to do was simply agree and everything would be fine; or, at least, what you’d convinced yourself was considered as “fine.”

“That ‘going our separate ways’ rule was so dumb,” Steve said instead of agreeing with your previous statement. “We should be friends.”

He was completely right, the rule was dumb. But still, even in this entirely comfortable moment, you knew that you couldn’t say what he wanted to hear. 

“I’ve missed this,” He continued on before you could say anything in response. He lightly bumped his knee with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” You blurted it out before you realized what you were even saying, and you didn’t know how true it was until those four simple words were out in the open and sitting in the quiet air between you and Steve. 

They abruptly made you inwardly admit everything else that you’d been avoiding and refusing to accept— the almost too obvious reason why you couldn’t be friends with him and why you had refused to break the rule this entire past month.  

You’d never be able to be just friends with him. You’d start feeling something more and head down an all too familiar path, another Eddie situation that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take and not have it break you this time around. Falling for a friend who saw you as nothing more than solely as a friend already sucked once, and you couldn’t imagine letting history repeat itself. 

That was why you couldn’t try to do it; you couldn’t try to be normal and keep things as they were between you and Steve. If you two hadn’t gone your “separate ways,” you were certain that you would’ve ended up liking him, inadvertently feeling more for him than what you wanted to.

However, you were realizing now that the joke was actually on you because it still happened anyway. 

You liked him a lot. And maybe some part of you always did. But, you knew that you’d never be able to do anything about it. 

You were right on one thing, though— this entire moment was a bad idea. 

Before you could come up with some random excuse to leave, the sound of Steve’s phone vibrating next to him saved you instead. He grabbed it, looking down at whatever message he just got and then back at you. 

“I gotta go. I’m late for this study group thing,” He said. “But, I'm not gonna be an idiot right now and once again say that we should go our separate ways. It’s set in stone now— we’re friends.”

“Okay,” You nodded, not meaning in the slightest.

“You should come over tomorrow. We can watch that one Lindsay Lohan movie that you like and I promise I won’t complain about it.”

“It’s called Freaky Friday. And yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

Right then it was easier to lie than to refuse his statement and make up a different lie about why you couldn’t hang out with him, why you couldn’t ever hang out with him. 

Steve gave you one final smile before he stood up. You watched him head down the aisle and then turn the corner before you let yourself lean back against the bookshelf and shut your eyes with a sigh. 

Now that you finally admitted to yourself how you felt for him, it was as if the dam broke and all you could think about was how real the entirety of the fake dating thing had been for you— during the power outage where you actually got to know him, during that night where you two spent Valentine’s together at that arcade and pizza place, during everything that happened in Mexico. It was suddenly so obvious, and you were also reminded of that moment during the delayed flight when the realization first hit you. 

How different would things be if you had actually accepted it back then? You honestly couldn’t imagine. 

Another long sigh fell from your lips as you pulled your legs out of the aisle and crossed them under you.

You really didn’t want to like Steve, and a part of you wanted to try and convince yourself that it wasn’t true; just like you’d done before. But, this time around was so much different. The feelings already felt so settled and certain; you couldn’t even push them away. 

And that only made things feel worse because avoidance was your main coping mechanism. So if you couldn’t push away and forget your feelings for Steve, what the hell were you going to do instead? 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was hours upon hours full of contradictory thoughts. One part of you was telling you to be honest and the other was saying the exact opposite, and at first, you had no idea which side to listen to. You wanted to take the easy way out, but there was something about that that didn't sit right with you. Still, though, you considered it.

More time slowly passed, your head in a constant push and pull, and then it was nearing midnight when you decided to call Steve. It was an impulsive decision that, once you were settled on it, surprisingly felt like the right one. 

You sat up in your bed and grabbed your phone off of your nightstand. You could hear the faint sounds of Talia doing something in the kitchen through your shut door, but you knew that it wasn’t her that was keeping you awake since you got in bed twenty minutes ago. Instead, it was your scattered thoughts and confused mind, both of which somehow suddenly felt a thousand percent certain about one thing, which should’ve felt comforting but it actually felt like the opposite. 

You pressed call on Steve’s contact name before you could talk yourself out of it. 

“Hey,” His voice sounded sleepy when he answered after the third ring, which let you know that you’d woken him up. A part of you felt bad, and you wanted to hang up after saying the quickest “Sorry” to him, but then you remembered why you were calling. 

“I can’t be friends with you,” You blurted it out, getting straight to the point because you couldn’t think of a different way to say it.  

“Oh…” He sounded confused, and rightfully so, you could recognize that this was probably the weirdest wake-up call ever. “Oh, okay.”

You could’ve simply ended it there and let the phone call be done with, no further explanation or anything so that you could save yourself from potential embarrassment. However, the whole Eddie situation taught you to be honest about how you’re feeling, and in this moment you suddenly felt so settled on doing so. 

“At least, I can't try to be your friend without telling you something first, I think,” You told him. “And I’m sorry, I know this probably sounds so random, but I can’t sleep because all I’ve been doing for the past few hours is thinking about this, so I think I just need to be honest right now.” 

You paused for a second, taking the quickest breath before speaking. “When we started the fake dating thing, we were pretty much strangers, and as it continued I thought that what we ended up forming was solely just some sort of unexpected friendship. And then when we were ending things, I convinced myself that what we had was actually absolutely nothing and we were just two people helping each other out. But then today at the library I realized that it really wasn’t fake for me, and it wasn’t just a friendship either. It’s so much more than that for me. I like you, Steve.” 

Out of everything you had just said, those last four words were definitely the hardest. It felt simultaneously good and bad. So honest that your initial instinct was telling you to take it back, but as the statement settled in the air, you felt entirely okay about it and it made it feel easier to continue talking. 

“And I know that it's probably not the same for you because you don’t do relationships and that was the whole point of the fake dating thing for you. I know that. And that's why I refused to accept these feelings or even admit them to myself in the first place.” You let your head fall back against your pillow and you squeezed your eyes shut as you forced yourself to keep going. “So I know that you’re probably gonna say that you don’t feel the same way and that’s okay; or it’ll eventually be okay, I guess, because rejection does suck. But this whole Eddie thing made me realize that maybe I should just be honest about my feelings, so this is me doing that…” You trailed off and then softly said, “Okay, sorry, I’m done talking now.”

Steve was quiet for a bit— it was actually a lot more than just a bit. It was so long that it made you think that he hung up or the call somehow ended, but then he was saying something.

“You should come to Europe with me this summer.”

That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear at that moment, and you had no idea what that response meant. Was it just a nice way of rejecting you or did he maybe feel the same way? 

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” He said and somehow you could almost hear him shaking his head at himself. “I’m not used to doing this anymore.”

There was something about the way he said his statement that made you think that he was rejecting you, or at least trying to. And because of that, you quickly tried to make everything fine and okay and normal. “It’s, um... It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Things will be okay with us. We can still be, uh, friends or whatever.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” He told you, and you could feel your heart fill with something that resembled hope. “I do. I do feel the same way. None of it was fake for me either, and it didn’t take me that long after Mexico and the rest of spring break to finally realize that. The night we “broke up” was actually pretty hard, and it also felt kind of wrong, if that makes sense. I tried to forget about it, though, because of the Eddie part of all of this and what we both agreed on at the beginning of everything.”

“When I finally accepted it today, I tried to push it all away too,” You said. “It was really hard to do, though— literally impossible, actually. Hence why I woke you up and had to tell you all of this in the middle of the night.”

“I get it. I’m just way too likable.”

“Shut up,” You said, but you were smiling.  

“It’s the same for you too, though. You’re also really likable. I like you a lot,” Steve told you, and his words sounded so certain and honest that it made your heart do a weird fluttery thing that also wiped your brain of the ability to form any sort of coherent sentence. He then let out the quickest breath of a laugh. “It feels so weird doing this over the phone.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and your next words came out with no hesitation. “You should come over.”

He was quiet just for a second before he said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You answered, voice just as soft and quiet as his. 

“Okay,” He said, and you could practically hear him nodding. 

“Okay, cool,” You responded, trying to be normal and chill about everything, even though your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest in nervous but excited anticipation of seeing him again and talking about everything in person. “See you soon then.”

When the call ended, you simply didn’t do anything for a moment. The same happy smile was on your face and you couldn’t seem to wipe it away, and you honestly didn’t even want to. 

And then you were abruptly thinking about what you were wearing and wondering if it was okay. But, was there even any point in changing out of your slightly wrinkled t-shirt and pajama shorts?

You weren’t entirely sure, but you still got up from your bed and turned on your light, and then headed toward your closet. 

You were halfheartedly picking through your clothes and making mental comments about everything— a dress felt like overkill and putting on jeans would be too annoying— when something hit you on the head and made you yelp. You looked down and saw that it was Hartford; he had previously been sitting on the shelf above your clothes. You picked him up and placed him back on your desk— his rightful place, you decided. 

You also decided that what you were wearing was fine. It obviously made sense for the middle of the night and you’d only feel severely underdressed if Steve showed up wearing a suit, which sounded completely ridiculous. 

The abrupt sound of something crashing in the kitchen pulled you out of your head and you left your room to make sure Talia was fine. You didn’t immediately see her when you looked over at the kitchen, but when you said, “Everything okay?” her head popped up from behind the counter. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Shit, sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked and then sighed. “The mixer was hidden behind a thousand other things, so when I pulled it out, some pans fell.”

You could hear her fixing the pans and then she stood up.

“No, I was already awake,” You answered as you walked toward her. It was way too hard to not let yourself smile as you said your next words. “Steve’s, um, Steve’s coming over.”

She stopped in the middle of looking for something in the fridge and instead turned to you, the happiest smile on her face. “Oh my god, finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you got back from that date with Adam. I could just tell there was something so different about you and Steve.”

You shook your head as you laughed a bit. “You couldn’t have known about how I felt about Steve then. I barely knew.”

“Of course, I knew. I’m a Psych major for a reason,” She told you, which only made you laugh again. “But, I obviously wasn’t gonna tell you. You had to get there on your own. I’m so glad it didn’t take months, though, and I actually get to see this happen before I graduate and leave.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and then shifted the subject. “What are you making?”

“I’m kinda still deciding. It’ll either be a two-layered cake, cupcakes, or this tart recipe that I just saw,” She shrugged. ���I don’t know. I’m just trying to do anything to take my mind off this one final that I’ve been studying for all day.”

That made sense to you. Last semester during the week leading up to finals, she made a fresh batch of cookies every night.

“Maybe I’ll do a cake,” She said, a small teasing smile on her face. “A celebratory one for you and Steve. I’ll frost it white and write ‘Congrats, Lovebirds’ on it in red. Shit, I hope there’s still food coloring left.”

You immediately shook your head. “Please don’t do that. Before when things were fake, you guys couldn’t scare him off, now it definitely could happen.”

“Fine, I’ll just make a completely normal white cake that has absolutely nothing to do with you and Steve. But, deep down, both you and I know the truth.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Thank you.”

She finished grabbing the eggs from the fridge and you headed to the couch, knowing that she liked working alone in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to turn on the TV, but you weren’t in the mood to put on a movie or anything.

You heard Talia hum to herself as she started measuring flour and sugar and then cracking eggs. 

It was calming to see her completely in her element with her thoughts focused solely on one thing. Your thoughts didn’t have something specific to focus on, so they instead focused on Steve. Him and you and you two together. Well, together, but not really because nothing was settled yet. So, right now, in this moment, you two were just friends. Or was that not even an accurate description either? 

“Get out of your head.”

You looked over at Talia, wondering how long she’d been watching you and seeing you starting to inwardly spiral. “How could you tell?”

“Once again, Psych major for a reason,” She said, giving you a small smile. “Stop thinking so hard about everything right now. It’s all gonna be great when he gets here. Hey, just tell me a story. A random one. First thing that comes to you.” 

You thought for a second and then went with the first thing that came to your mind just like Talia said; a quick story about a summer camp that you went to when you were ten. It was almost too easy to think of things to talk about involving the month-long sleep away camps or short stints at super niche-specific camps that your parents found for you. 

The knock on the door came when you were in the middle of telling Talia about a different summer, a theater camp you were forced to go to for two weeks when you were twelve. 

You quickly got to the end of the story as you walked over to the door. “Long story short, the whole show was canceled due to the pregnancy rumor.” 

Talia shook her head in disbelief. “No way.”

“Yeah, it was insane. Spoiler alert, though, she wasn’t pregnant. Thank god. But, that was when I learned how ruthless theater kids are.” 

You pulled the door open after letting out a soft laugh at Talia sighing and saying, “Children are evil.” 

You wanted to be normal about seeing Steve standing in front of you right then— really, you did— but it was too hard to. He was sporting messy bedhead, sweatpants, and a t-shirt that matched yours with how wrinkled it was. It looked as if he had rushed to get here, which was actually true given the fact that he managed to turn a typical thirty-minute drive into twenty minutes.

“Hi,” You said, a fresh wave of giddiness hitting you immediately and it was hard to contain the smile tugging at your lips. 

He didn’t hesitate to match it. “Hey.”

You both simply smiled at each other like idiots for a few moments. Talia was right.  

The sound of the oven beeping followed by Talia saying, “How long it takes for the oven to preheat is the one thing that I’m really not gonna miss about this place,” seemed to pull you both out of your lovestruck trance.  

“Hi, sorry, come in,” You said to Steve, pushing the door open further so that he could step inside and then you closed it behind him. “Talia’s baking a cake.”

“A completely normal cake,” She told him and you immediately gave her a look. “Anyway, nice to see you again, Steven.”

“You, too,” He said. “What makes it normal?” 

“Nothing. Please ignore what she just said,” You told him, and then didn’t think too much as you grabbed his hand and led him toward your room. You didn’t realize what you’d done until your door was shut behind you both and your hand was still holding his— it didn’t feel entirely wrong, though. 

You noticed him look at your desk. “You still have Hartford.”

You let go of his hand as you went over to grab the small bear. “Of course, I do. I hope you still have Bowie.” 

“Of course,” He said, smiling and matching your certain tone. 

“Thinking about it now, I feel like that whole Valentine’s night should’ve sealed the deal for me. It was literally a date,” You said, letting out a laugh as you placed Hartford back down on your desk.

Thinking back to Valentine’s Day also made you abruptly remember that that was also the night he told you about him not wanting anything serious and finally explaining the “why” behind it too. And it was then that you realized that just because he had feelings for you didn’t necessarily mean that his mindset on relationships had changed too. 

You were rushing to continue and verbalize that before Steve could say anything. “And I completely get it if all of this doesn’t really change anything. Because none of this means that how you view love and relationships has changed. Not saying that you love me or anything but–”

He cut off your rambling with a head shake. “Hey, no, this is so different. I want everything with you.” It was hard not to become shy under his gaze, especially as he said those words, but you still refused to look away from him as he kept talking. 

“You kind of changed it all for me. I was scared of it before, I think— of doing anything serious and letting anyone in because I just assumed that I’d end up getting heartbroken again. But, with you, it never really felt like that; scary or anything. I think that when we were stuck at my place during the power outage and just talking, deep down I knew that things with you were gonna be different or already were; it didn’t feel weird or scary getting deep with you or letting you in. Same thing with that night in Mexico when we were eating cereal and talking about all of that serious stuff. It took a while for me to actually admit what all of those things meant, though.”

Hearing him say that made you think about when he proposed the fake dating thing, when he said that guys are dumb and it takes them a while to realize things. Thinking about those words now made you smile. 

“Guys are stupid,” You said. “You’re the one that told me that.” 

Steve nodded, laughing a little. “We are. That’s still very true.”

“I was also stupid. I avoided everything for a long time too.”

“Glad to know we’re both idiots then,” He said, which made you smile wider. 

For a second, nothing else was said; it honestly felt as if nothing else really needed to be said right then. You weren’t sure if it was you or him that closed most of the distance between you two— perhaps it was both of you. Either way, a silent agreement to push things further was made as your arms came up to loosely circle his neck and his hands found your waist. 

It was you who didn’t waste a second to turn that final bit of space between you into nothing. You leaned in slowly, though, nose brushing against his before softly finding his lips. 

It was simply just a peck at first, a chaste kiss just to test the waters and define this moment as different from the other few times that this had happened. You both knew that this was entirely different. It wasn’t good but confusing like during the blind date, and it wasn’t for show like the times in Mexico. This first kiss was right, and as simple and brief as it was, it felt damn near perfect.  

When you pulled away after just a second, Steve didn’t hesitate to lean right back in, quickly letting his mouth find yours again. One of his hands left your waist and came up to cup your cheek instead. That soft touch grounded you, it kept you steady and it also did something to your heart; made it start thumping wildly in your chest.

There was no part of you that wanted this moment to end, you wanted to live in it for as long as you could and memorize every single part of it. The way your fingers so easily found home in the hair at the nape of his neck. His warm hand on your waist that you could practically feel through your t-shirt. How it was almost like a dance happening as Steve guided you back against your shut door, pressing you against it, and you used that as the opportunity to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

It didn’t take long for you two to end up in your bed; you quickly became too tired of standing and the doorknob poking into your side became too uncomfortable. 

Your legs were on either side of his lap and he was leaning back against the headboard, pulling you toward him. It felt like you were two teenagers who had just discovered what making out was. And it also felt as if you both were in agreement about feeling like you two had wasted so much time not kissing over the last month of not talking to each other and since you two met that you were trying to make up for all of that lost time. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath, Steve’s lips found your neck, and your eyes immediately slipped shut.

“I meant what I said before,” He mumbled against your skin, but you heard him clearly. 

Your eyes were still contentedly closed as you asked, “Meant what?”

“That you should come to Europe with me this summer.”

You let out a soft laugh that quickly turned into a sigh of contentment when his lips found a particularly sensitive part of your neck. “You’re insane.”

“Insanely serious,” Steve said in between kisses. 

You pulled back then to look at him— it was hard to do, you really didn’t want to pull away, but reluctantly you did. You wanted to gauge how serious he was actually being right then, and you could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t joking. 

His hands found yours and intertwined them. “Say yes.”

How happy he sounded rubbed off on you and you had to bite your lip to suppress your growing smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“That sounds like a yes to me,” He said, still smiling as he leaned in to kiss you. 

You pulled away after the briefest second. “I’m serious.” You weren’t at all. “I gotta make a pro and con list to make sure this is the right decision.” 

“Okay, I’m already thinking of a bunch of pros to add to the list,” Steve told you and then gave you a playful smile. “I can’t think of any cons, though, so...” He finished off with a shrug that made you laugh. 

Weirdly enough, no cons were coming to your mind right then either. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff , @lilacccs , @thehairington86 , @welcometohellsock

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

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

or

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

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

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

part 2

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

One week later

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

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

“H?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Seriously, H?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t it be both?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a little for my taste.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Y/N, right!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

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

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

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

“I wasn’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

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

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And on the face?”

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

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

“Lipstick?”

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

“It was only from-”

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

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

- 

part 2

[pies-writes-and-more]

karasuno’s #1 supporter

pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader 

warnings: pissing off atsumu, potentially really bad characterization because this is my first time (and potentially last time) writing for the miya boys haha i’ve always liked osamu more tho so this was just a really cute storyline i couldnt pass up

a/n: alright yall this is the most crackhead piece of shit i’ve ever written so i’m so sorry already but it’s just such a funny idea to me i couldn’t not write it LOL I’ve had this in my drafts for a long time but I figured I’d finish it and throw it out there in hopes that it’ll make yall laugh haha. thank you @satan-ruler-of-hells​ as usual for giving me some confidence lol following gif is not mine - credits to the original creator!

haikyuu masterlist | pt 2

The silence that almost immediately hit the air as Atsumu closed his fist was like a punch to the gut. He had such an presence to him that you almost felt like you were afraid to breathe. Your eyes focused on the boys below, their nervousness and tension could be felt all around the stadium.

As Atsumu got ready for another serve, you looked around to the Karasuno cheer section, frowning when you realized you could literally hear a pin drop. Why were they allowed to boo your team’s serves and no one was allowed to say anything during theirs?

“Well fuck that,” you huffed to yourself. This was what the boys had been practicing for forever! You hadn’t come all this way to watch your friends lose to some asshole with a huge cheer team. You had spent the last year watching them from the sidelines, supporting them through every game because you knew this was their year. And it wasn’t about to be stopped by some piss-haired idiot. “OI WHAT KIND OF ELITIST NONSENSE IS THIS?” You yell from the top of your lungs. Even the ref glanced your direction, Atsumu’s concentration obviously shaken from the random screaming. “YOU IDIOTS BETTER LOOSEN UP! WE’RE COUNTING ON YOU!”

Even from where you were on the stands, you could see the volleyball team smiling, Sugawara turning from the sides to give you a cheeky thumbs up while the other boys standing next to him tried to stifle their surprised laughter. Even Kageyama and Tsukishima cracked a few smirks. You were right, after all. They were too tense. The boys’ shoulders relaxed a little as you yelled at them, shaking their head in laughter as they realized just how lucky they were to have you backing them up.

You turned to those around you, gesturing to them to back you up. More and more Karasuno supports were joining you as you yelled, cheering for your team as loudly as your lungs would allow you. Even Ukai’s friends joined in after a while, everyone showing just how much love and support they were sending down to the team. Atsumu shot a glare in your direction, though you were a little busy to even notice. 

“Here we go ahead,” Osamu sighed, the sounds echoing throughout the whole arena. She’s kinda cute though, Osamu thought to himself, finding you oddly amusing. He reminded himself quickly that his brother’s serves were needed if this game was going to end in their favour, trying to push the picture of you out from his mind.

Your cheers went on, even after Saeko showed up with her taiko drums. She laughed loudly hearing what you’ve been doing, a shy smile on your face as she smacked your arm proudly, “Good for you! Stick up for our boys huh?”

You nodded in agreement and the two of you led the attack on the Inarizaki High cheer squad. There was something about her energy that just had you more hyped up, even though your poor voice was practically gone by the time the game ended. 

You bounced up and down eagerly waiting for the boys to make their way out of the gym, ready for Asahi to swing you around in a hug like he always did, and for Noya and Tanaka to practically tackle you to the ground in excitement. You knew they could do it. There was never any doubt in your mind - though that game probably took a couple years off of your life with all the stress.

But as players started to leave the gym, Atsumu was quick to target his eyes on you. “You!” He growled out, pointing in your direction. Almost immediately you could feel the intense wave of anger as he slowly stormed over to you. His twin trotted alongside him, a smug look on his face still, just from the fact that you were able to get on his brother’s nerves so much and that would always be just a little hilarious to him.

“Suddenly, I have somewhere else to be,” you squeaked, whisking yourself away to wherever the Karasuno team was. The first boy you found was Tanaka, and thank god it was, because that boy could be very intimidating when he wanted to be. You hid behind him swiftly, staring at Atsumu’s approaching form as he walked menacingly closer. “What’re you gonna do?” You yelled at him, still clutching Tanaka’s shoulders. “Would his Majesty like some silence to beat me too? Hm?” You taunted him, clearly trying to be more intimidating than you were.

Tanaka couldn’t help but laugh at what big game you talked all while shaking a little behind him. You knew maybe you should’ve just shut up but hey, with the whole team around you, you were guaranteed to be just fine. Besides, this idol boy would never commit murder publicly would he?

“You’re an absolute nuisance,” he scoffed, shaking his head while Tanaka shot him intense stares.

“Wow that’s a big word, Atsumu, where’d you learn that?” Osamu teased, glancing over you quickly. Yep. Still really cute, even up close.

“Me? A nuisance? Says the one with the most annoying cheer team ever! They don’t even believe in your playing abilities!” You huffed. “Imagine having to resort to dirty games like breaking the tempo cause they didn’t believe you could win,” you stuck your tongue out, but his immediate flare of anger had you shrinking behind Tanaka again.

“OI! ARE YOU PICKING ON A GIRL?” Saeko screamed as she made her way over, growling at the high school boy. “YOU THINK YOU CAN PICK ON OUR STUDENT LIKE THAT HM?”

“YEAH!” Her brother chimed in.

“YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO GO THROUGH US!”

“YEAH!”

“Oi, what kind of trouble have you caused now?” Kageyama spoke up, hitting your head not-so-gently as he scolded you. “You were really loud earlier, idiot.”

“I was trying to help,” you insisted. “It’s not my fault that these dummies can’t take a taste of their own medicine!”

“Tobio, you know this brat?” Atsumu raised an eyebrow, shooting yet another glare at you as you continued to stick your tongue out at him.

“She’s my friend,” Kageyama responded in a chilly tone, his icy glare turning to the other setter as if warning him careful what you say about her next. You couldn’t help but smile - who would’ve known that Kageyama could be so protective.

“She’s our friend,” HInata corrected, trying to emulate the same intimidating expression that the Tanaka siblings had on. 

“Alright shrimpy, cool it down,” Atsumu waved him off, his eyes landing on you again and giving you yet another glare. “Next time, we won’t lose.”

“Yes you will,” you responded quickly, all of the boys glancing over at you in surprise. You spoke with such determination for someone who wasn’t even on the team. “Karasuno’s the best team here. And that’s what we came to show everyone.”

Atsumu chuckled condescendingly, like you were a child who was making up some massive fairytale, “Sure, believe whatever you want.”

“Oi! Are you starting fights again?” Daichi came over, you and Tanaka immediately trying to dip but him grabbing onto both of your collars. After he forced you two to apologize for the ruckus, Atsumu started to move away, giving a dismissive wave to Kageyama.

“Thanks for keeping things interesting, Tobio. We’ll be even better next year. Come on, Osamu,” Atsumu walked a few steps ahead, glancing back when he realized his twin was still standing with you guys.

“What’s your name?” Osamu was asking you, a somewhat carefree look in his eyes.

You blinked in surprise, looking around to make sure he was actually talking to you, “Y/L/N Y/N. I go by Y/N though.”

Osamu nodded slowly, “Y/N,” he repeated, as if getting a taste of how it felt on his tongue. “I hope to see you around, Y/N,” he smiled, his eyes flickering over you a bit more before he turned to walk away with his brother.

You stood there for a little bit in complete shock, watching as Atsumu whacked his brother in the head the further they got away from you. “Oi, what was that?” He huffed.

“What was what?” Osamu shrugged, like nothing had happened.

“‘I hope to see you around, Y/N’!” Atsumu mocked him. “She practically ruined all of my serves! She cost us the game! And you’re asking for her name? What, do ya think she’s cute or something?” Atsumu yelled, scolding his brother the whole way back to their team as Osamu just sighed, rolling his eyes.

As if to rub salt in the wound, Osamu turned around to give you a wave goodbye with a cheeky little wink, making his brother yell even louder in response. You couldn’t help but laugh, your whole body feeling hot from the encounter. Was it the adrenaline of feeling like Atsumu was going to kill you? Or... was it the look that Osamu gave you?

“Y/N, they’re like our enemies now. You can’t go flirting with the enemy,” Tanaka shook his head.

“Ya, that’s totally not fair! We can’t have our cute fans going over to their side!” Noya argued with his hands on his hips.

“Woah woah woah! Who said anything about flirting? I just gave him my name!” You responded back, whacking both of them in the arm. “Now forget them! It’s time to celebrate your guys’ win!” You squealed, jumping around with them all. There was no point in thinking anything of that somewhat strange encounter with the Miya twin. It’s not like he’d give you any thought - with all those girls surrounding him and his brother, he probably had his pick of any girl he wanted.

But the whole trip back home, Osamu found himself thinking about you nonstop. There was just something about you. “Y/L/N Y/N,” Osamu repeated to himself softly just once more as he stared out the window of the bus. Cute and able to easily piss off his brother? You were practically his soulmate. The question was now: how was he going to see you again?

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@sgue0s @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana @just4readingfics @moonlightaangel @crystal-lilac @random-734 @rizkykei​ @sophiemess

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part IX. (Harry Styles)

yall are gonna hate me for this but it needed to be done IM SORRY! also, i can’t believe valerie is ending this week, just one more part to go! can’twait to read your reactions and thoughts on this part, even though i know yall gonna be upset lmao

word count: 5.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Some days it truly feels like the universe has plotted against you to make every possible thing go wrong. As if it wants to see just how much you can take before breaking, experiment how long it can dance on your nerves before you end up one of those crazy people who shout at random strangers on the bus for no actual reason.

Starting the day you overslept awfully leaving you only ten minutes before you had to leave. In your hurry you ended up putting on socks that do not match and you were forced to buy a sandwich on your way as breakfast, but you promised you wouldn’t buy packed sandwiches for a reason, this one tasted like it’s been sitting on the shelf for weeks. Maybe it really has been. 

You made it to work successfully, but then you realized that you’ve left your notebook at home, the one that had quite a lot of important information you need for your work, so you spent your first hour at work emailing different people for things you should now, explaining that you just left your notebook at home. Some didn’t really give a fuck and just answered you normally, but others didn’t shy away from commenting that you should be more responsible and careful.

This alone gave just the perfect foundation for the day. It was all downhill from then. Your boss loaded twice as much work on you than usually, everything with close deadlines, throwing even more anxiety into the mix as if you didn’t have enough already. 

You met up with Marcus at lunch, but that didn’t go as planned either. It’s been getting more and more frustrating with him, the two of you have already had at least five fights this week and it’s only wednesday. It seems like even the smallest things push you over the edge these days and you easily pick a fight over anything. It didn’t happen differently this time either and by the time you got back to the office you were fuming. Worst part is that you always have a hard time ending a fight and tend to continue it through texts, the same thing happened today as well.

Now it’s a few minutes past five and you’re getting ready to go home, get changed and head to family dinner since today is Valerie’s first birthday, but even on the bus you’re still furiously typing away on your phone, sending a reply to Marcus, wanting nothing more than to throw the device right ot the window.

At one point you decide you’ve had enough. Turning your phone off you sink it into the depth of your bag and just try to focus on breathing, because even the smallest things seem to be hard tasks in such an upsetting state of mind. 

These past few weeks things have taken an absurdly wrong turn between you and Marcus and you don’t know what to do about the whole situation. Every night you go to bed thinking that you should just let go of him, would do a favor for the both of you, but then that stupid little voice in the back of your mind tells you that if you break up with Marcus it’s game over for you, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone. It all ends up with you violently holding onto the pieces of what’s left from your relationship and you’ve been trying to figure out where it went wrong, but you have absolutely no idea. 

After you changed into a pair of light washed jeans, a bright orange sweater and your black leather jacket it’s time for you to leave, though you already know you’ll be late. With a sigh deep you decided to turn your phone back on when you were sitting in the Uber, immediately deleting the notifications about the messages Marcus left you and going straight for the few ones from Rosa, your mom and Harry. They all arrived not too long ago asking when you’d be arriving, so you quickly typed your sorry and told them you’re on your way, you just got caught up at work. For Harry, you add something else too:

“Save me a seat and order me a tequila.”

His response came quickly.

“Done. Both.”

You let out a chuckle seeing his message. He knows you too well.

Walking into the small restaurant you don’t have a hard time spotting your family, three tables have been pushed together to make enough room in the back, taking up the small, kind of separated area of the place. Rosa smiles widely when she spots you, Valerie standing on her thighs, hands on the table as she is trying to snatch one of the glasses away, but her dad is pushing it further from her grasp.

“Sorry for being late,” you huff out and take the seat right next to Harry who watches you with a smile. “Well hello there, birthday girl! You’re so big now!” you babble at Valerie who giggles at you before her attention is averted once again.

You feel Harry’s elbow poking your side and turning to him you see him nod at the two shots on the table.

“Oh, fantastic. You’re drinking too?”

“No, I’m driving. Both for you.”

“If I didn’t have such a shitty day I would question what kind of alcoholic you think I am, but I kinda need both,” you sigh, taking the first one and downing it faster than ever. From the corner of your eyes you see your mother’s disapproving look, but you decide to ignore it for now.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harry asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but you shake your head, the alcohol still burning your throat.

“Not now. Can you give me a lift home tho?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning back to the conversation at the table. 

You somehow succeed in putting everything that happened today behind and just focus on the time spent with your family. It helps that seemingly Harry works hard all evening to tell you about random things, just occupying your thoughts as much as he can. It’s nice to relax a little and forget everything that’s been weighing down on your shoulders recently. 

“It’s so crazy she is one already,” you sigh when you and Harry are walking to his car.

“Right? It makes me feel incredibly old,” Harry huffs as he fishes his car keys out of his pocket.

“How old are you even?” you ask laughing, realizing you don’t even know how old he exactly is. There are quite a few things, small details you’ve just never gotten around to find out about Harry.

“I’m turning 27 in February. Wild, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

“Yeah, you’re basically a grandpa,” you tease him and he narrows his eyes at you, but you can’t miss the little smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

“That makes you a grandma, because you’re turning 25 in April, don’t you?”

“You know when my birthday is?” It takes you by surprise, you don’t remember ever telling him when your birthday is.

The two of you reach his car and he clears his throat unlocking it. Seems like he doesn’t really want to answer, but your burning gaze on him kind of forces him into it.

“Uh, I do. I wanted to meet up with Steven last year the day you had your birthday party, but he said he had plans already. Tried to lure him into cancelling, but he didn’t even want to share where he was going. Then he admitted that it was your birthday party, but you told him and Rosa not to even mention it to me so I don’t show up.”

Your stomach drops hearing his version of a story you’ve only known from your own point of view. You remember that you indeed told them not to tell Harry about it, but now it seems like such a hate crime, when in real life, it was still when the two of you hated each other with passion. 

“I’m… Harry I’m sorry. That was--”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles at you, starting the car. “We left it all behind, didn’t we?”

His smile seems genuine, but you still feel guilty for being such a bitch. It reminded you how much time and energy the two of you wasted for years hating each other when you could have been just like you are now. If only things happened in a different way…

Arriving at your building Harry parks the car and stops it. As the engine stops, the silence that’s been thickening the air just becomes even more obvious. He is waiting for you to say something about what’s gotten you so upset today, you know that, but you don’t feel like sitting around in his car.

“Want to come up for a little bit?” you ask and it’s a hidden message that you want to talk in the comfort of your own home. Luckily, Harry understands it right away and nodding he tells you to lead the way. 

You make some tea and the two of you sit on your couch, Harry is sitting sideways so he can see you while you bring your knees up to your chest, staring down at the mug in your hands.

“I had a fight with Marcus,” you quietly start.

“Oh.”

“And… it wasn’t the first time. We’ve been constantly fighting lately and I’m just… so tired of it.”

Saying it out loud for the first time, having someone listen to you brings you an odd sense of relief, and it doesn’t feel weird that you’re talking to Harry about all of it. He has proven himself to be a great listener.

“We’ve been fighting constantly, over the smallest things and my… my patience is running short, at this point.”

You’re talking slowly, carefully putting your thoughts into words, trying your best to interpret them for Harry after boiling them only in your own head for so long.

“I just… I have no idea what I should do.”

“It seems like the relationship is not making you happy anymore,” Harry softly speaks up and you have nothing to bring up against what he just said. “So why are you trying to continue it?”

You were expecting the question, you just knew he would ask it, but it still brings a painful, stinging sensation into your chest as you try to find the words to answer him. 

“Because…” you breath out and slowly turning your head, your eyes meet his gaze. “If I can’t make it work with him… then… who is it gonna be? There’s this voice in my head that keeps telling me, that he is literally my last choice, that if I mess this up it’s gonna be over for me.”

“Y/N, you know that’s not true,” Harry tells you tilting his head.

“Do I?” you chuckle bitterly, turning your gaze to the ceiling before you look back at him. “Because I don’t think I do. I’ve been literally feeling so miserable for weeks, yet I still can’t get me to move on, because I think I’m gonna die alone.”

“That’s not gonna happen, don’t say that. You’ll find the right person for you, you just… have to be patient.”

“But that’s the thing. I have lost my patience. I’m done, over it.” The tears form in your eyes in just a few seconds and the next thing you know is that you’re crying. “I’ve been trying so hard in my whole life, but somehow I always ended up… not being enough, or thrown away, stepped over, left behind. No matter what I did, I always ended up alone and I can’t help but notice a pattern in it. It has to be me, what else?”

“It’s not you, okay? You just had a few bad experiences.”

“Not a few,” you huff closing your eyes. “All of them are bad. I was… I was never enough for anyone and now that I found a guy that seemed to be just perfect… I’m ruining it.”

“I don’t think you’re ruining anything.”

“Then explain to me what’s happening, Harry!” you snap in despair and Harry stares back at you at a loss of words at first.

“Do you have feelings for him?” he then asks. You can’t answer right away and it tells him a lot.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“That sounded more like a no.”

“Okay, alright. No, I don’t. But… I could develop feelings eventually, couldn’t I?”

“That’s not how it works, Y/N. You can’t just torture yourself hoping that one day you wake up and you’ll be in love with him. It’s not gonna happen and you’re just wasting your time.”

“How do you know it’s not gonna happen? What makes you so sure of that I will not end up alone?”

Harry stays quiet, her green eyes are staring right into your soul and for a moment you forget about your misery. This man alone holds such a power over you, it’s starting to scare you.

“I know it, because… I know you. And I see you. You’re literally the funniest girl I know, so easy to talk with, you always know when to crack a joke and when you have to be serious. You have so much love for others, you care about your loved ones and you’re always there for your friends and family. You make it so easy for others to get comfortable around you and you make everyone feel safe around you.”

You listen to him intently, drinking up every word that leaves his lips. Harry looks down at his hands as he continues.

“And you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful, it always baffles me when I see you.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“It’s the truth,” Harry chuckles lightly, he brushes his knuckles together nervously. “Every time you walk in, you just… make everyone turn their head at you, and I always wonder if you even notice that. The way you walk, your smile, your laugh, Y/N, you make every man go crazy about you.”

“You’re just saying that because you are trying to cheer me up,” you sniff, wiping a few more tears away from your eyes.

“I’m definitely not,” he chuckles and his eyes finally find yours. “I remember when we first met.”

“When you walked in on me changing,” you sigh, the memories living vividly in your mind.

“Yeah. I remember how… breathless I felt when I saw you standing there, your dress handing a little on your frame because of the zipper. I forgot my name for a moment. I offered to help with the zipper because I just… wanted to touch you in any kind of way. So I knew that you were real.”

“Harry…”

“I know this sounds made up, but I’m telling you, this is the truth. And I know I didn’t act like that for a long time, but I always thought that you were an amazing person and I know that any guy would be so lucky and incredibly happy to be with you. I hate the thought of you thinking otherwise of yourself, when you are literally such a delight and… just a gift to all of us. I don’t know what’s really been going on between you and Marcus, but if he can’t see your worth and can’t make you feel like you deserve… he is not worthy of your time.”

You feel your throat closing up, but you’re not sure Harry knows the reason behind it when the tears start rolling down your cheeks again. 

Because it might look like his words touched you and made you tear up, but in reality, a bittersweet feeling has taken completely over you. If this is how he thinks about you, why did he act like that when he had the chance to be with you? Why didn’t he want you to stay? What did you do that made him want to throw you out?

It’s a spiral straight down and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Harry has always been the biggest mystery of your life, and now you’re just even more sure it was something you did or said that made him want to run. 

He reaches out and easily scoops you into his arms and you let him hold you tight, face buried into his chest. You hold onto his shirt as the silent cries escape your lips. You want him to want you. You want him to mean all those things he just told you, but you just can’t seem to move on from the past even though you’ve agreed to forget about it. It keeps bugging you in the back of your mind that no matter what he says, you weren’t good enough to make him want to stay with you when he had the chance. 

***

It doesn’t get better after that night. Harry stayed until after midnight, made sure you got into bed and told you he’ll check in on you the next day. And so he did. 

You felt guilty for loading all of it on Harry, so you decided it was the last time you ever talked about Marcus or your love life in general with him. You easily made yourself believe that he didn’t really care about it and he just listened to you because he was trying to be nice. It seemed the best to just try and forget about it all. 

For a while you were contemplating breaking up with Marcus, but you didn’t have the strength to do it, telling yourself you have to give it another chance and some more patience. However it’s ending up to be quite draining, you gotta admit, but you are starting to get used to feeling numb every day.

Rosa invites you over, because she went through her closet and found some stuff she thought you’d like, so you head over not long after you get home from work. She mentioned that Harry would be over watching some kind of football game with Steven, so you are not surprised to see his car parking on their driveway.

“Hi guys!” you greet them when Rosa lets you in, the game is already on so they just wave in your way, intently watching the TV.

“Come on, I have everything in the bedroom,” Rosa nods in your way and you follow her upstairs. Valerie greets you with a loud shriek as you walk in, she is sitting in her crib, surrounded with a bunch of toys, seemingly having a great time.

“Hi there, Princess!” you coo at her, caressing her cheek before you sit on the edge of the bed that’s filled with piles of clothes. “What’s the big sorting?” you ask, grabbing a cardigan and taking a look at it.

“I just have way too much stuff, can’t fit new stuff into my wardrobe, so I needed to sort it all out.”

The two of you go through everything and just catch up while you try on what you like. At the end, you are just sitting on the bed playing with Valerie. You can tell there’s something Rosa wants to share, but she seems reserved about saying it out loud.

“So, the other day we were talking with Steven about how crazy it is that Val is over one year old,” she starts, eyes glued to the little girl, handing her another building block as Valerie works on… whatever it’s going to be when it's finished.

“Yeah, that’s what we talked about with Harry after her birthday dinner. Makes us feel old,” you chuckle.

“Exactly,” she sighs chuckling. “So then we talked about, maybe… having another kid sometime soon.”

You perk up and looking at Rosa you see the shy smile on her lips and you gasp, but she shakes her head.

“I’m not pregnant,” she assures you, but then adds: “Not yet.”

“Oh my God, so you’re trying for another baby?” you whisper, even though there’s no chance of the guys hearing the two of you. You can hear the sound of the TV up here, they have no clue what you’re talking about.

“I mean, it can take some time, so we thought we could… start now.”

“That’s fantastic!” you breathe out, truly happy for your sister. You just know Valerie will be such a good big sister. “Val, you want a baby sister or baby brother?” you ask her and she looks at you with a serious expression, holding out one of the blocks.

“Baba!” she exclaims.

“Yes, baba!” you chuckle. She’s been learning kind of real words lately and it won’t take too long before she’ll be bossing around everyone in the house.

When it’s getting late you pack the clothes you choose and head down to leave. The guys are still on the couch, but Harry’s head perks up when he hears your footsteps.

“You want me to give you a ride?”

“Um, I’m fine, don’t want to bother you while the game is on.”

“It’s ending in five. If you can wait a little it’s alright.”

“Okay,” you nod smiling so instead of going to the front door you stop in the kitchen to wait for Harry.

Rosa puts Valerie into her high chair and gets a banana for her while you check your phone just when Marcus calls you. Hesitantly, but you answer it.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi, just wanted to check in if the weekend is still on.”

“Uh, sure. It is.”

“Great. I’ll have to check again with my boss, but I think I’ll be able to pick you up.”

“Great. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

The call ends and you find yourself facing a curious looking Rosa on the other side of the kitchen island.

“Marcus?” she asks and you nod. “How are things going?” You’ve only mentioned it to her that it’s been hard between the two of you, but you definitely didn’t go into details. Harry was the first and last person to hear the whole story.

“Um… neutral, I guess?”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, but I’m just trying to figure it out. We are spending the weekend together, I hope it’ll help us to get a little more… settled? I guess, I don’t know,” you stammer, nervously fidgeting with your phone in your hands. 

“That’s nice, was it his idea?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to know that Marcus is making the right attempts to smooth things out.”

“Attempts?” Harry’s voice makes both of you look in his way as he stands at the door, seemingly confused about what he just heard. “You’re still with Marcus?”

“Harry, I…”

“No, don’t try to explain it. I thought I talked sense into you last time.” He is clearly pissed, not holding back how upset he is to get the news that you are still dating Marcus. But on the other hand you can also feel yourself getting angry how he tries to control your life.

“You did, but I never said I’ll break things off with him.”

“Well, it surely sounded like you made up your mind,” he huffs.

“Well, I didn’t,” you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“What the fuck, Y/N! You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” he snaps gesturing in your way. “I thought we were over this!”

“We? What do you mean we?” you grimace and now you are raising your voice as well. “Harry, there’s no we! This is my relationship and it’s nice that you care, but you can’t tell me what to do!”

Harry is vivid. He needs everything in him not to burst right then and there and for a moment you think he’s gonna just explode. But when he speaks up again his voice is quiet, however you can feel all the anger and frustration behind it.

“Get in the car, we’re leaving.”

“What?”

“Get in the fucking car, Y/N!” he barks making you jump. Rosa and Steven, who arrived to the kitchen in the middle of this madness, are just watching the scene unfold, completely unable to even say a word.

Slowly, you slide off the stool and grabbing the bag filled with clothes you turn to Rosa.

“Thanks for… these,” you mumble before walking out, Harry following you right behind. 

Nothing is said as the two of you get into the car, Harry is clearly on the verge of anger outburst, but you’re pretty upset yourself. The drive back to your place is painfully quiet, but you can’t stop staring at his hands gripping the wheel. HIs fingers and knuckles are turning white from the way he is basically crushing the wheel in his hold. You wouldn’t be surprised if it had his grip’s imprint on it by the time you arrive to your building. 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he snaps once the car is parked.

“Would you stop pretending like you have a saying in what I do?”

“I do have a saying in it! Because when you break again I’ll be the one picking you up from the ground!”

“Well, sorry it’s such an inconvenience to be my friend. But don’t worry, I won’t come to you again,” you snap back with a grimace and try to open the door, but it’s locked. “Let me out, Harry!”

“Fuck no, not until we talk about this,” he scoffs and it’s the last straw for you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! It’s none of your business, Harry! Stop pretending like you care!”

“I do care!” he shouts back so forcefully you are taken aback, sinking into your seat. “Of course I fucking care! How would I not?! I care about you so fucking much, how do you not see it?!”

At this point, you’re certain Harry has lost all self control and he is about to load he has been holding back out on you, while you’re just sitting there, staring at him completely speechless over how his whole being is filled with anger and fury.

“Stop fucking telling me that I don’t care when all I think about is you! Every damn day! I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, because every time my mind snaps right back to you when I’m trying to think about something else! Do you know how fucking painful it is?! See you fucking waste your time with that dickhead when I want to be with you?!”

Eyes widened you forget to even breathe as the words leave his lips and soon enough realization hits him hard about what he just said. His chest is violently waving, eyes staring straight ahead. Next time he speaks up the shouting is over, he is clearly shocked at his own behavior.

“Y/N, I-- what you told me last time, about ending up alone, that wasn’t the first time you told me all of that.”

“What?” you gasp.

“You broke down the same way at the wedding. Told me all about how you think you are just simply unlovable and will probably die alone.” His eyes snap down at his hands on his lap as he continues. “I was shocked how you’d ever think that way about yourself, because I was… I was already falling in love with you and I barely just met you that night. I couldn’t imagine what happened to you that made you believe that nonsense. I never felt like that with anyone else before and it was so fucking scary. Every time you looked at me or touched me, I could feel… the sparks. The fucking sparks, Y/N,” he lets out a bitter chuckle. “I never believed in that, but you made me feel that way. Then… one thing happened after the other and we were up in my room. I saw the way you looked at me, like I was your fucking everything and I have never experienced that. You fell asleep in my arms and I told myself that this is exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you listen in complete shock as Harry is still avoiding to look at you.

“I wanted to be the person who shows you how lovable and amazing you are, how worthy you are to be loved. Like I found my mission all of a sudden.”

“Then what the fuck happened in the morning?” you ask choking out the words. Harry finally turns to face you and you see his watery eyes. He was crying.

“You fell asleep and I was just watching you… and I realized that… sooner or later I would do something to hurt you. Because that’s what I always do and I didn’t want that. You didn’t deserve that, but I just knew I won’t be able to give you what you wanted and needed. And you told me all about how you just want to be loved and… I didn’t want to disappoint you in any way.”

He rubs his eyes turning back to look straight ahead and you see his lips tremble before he speaks up again. 

“I said all those stuff so you’d have a reason to hate me and you wouldn’t try to stay with me.”

“This is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you chuckle bitterly as the tears keep rolling down your cheeks. “Do you have any idea how fucking horrible I felt after that? I felt so ashamed for fucking weeks, Harry!”

“I-I know. I mean, I figured.”

“You made me feel unwanted and dirty, it took me so long to build my confidence back and be able to think of myself as more than just some used rug that was thrown out!”

Harry sits there in complete silence and just lets you load everything out on him, because he knows that’s what he deserves. He has tried to punish himself in so many different ways for what he did to you, but he knew he had to face you someday. Now the time has come and he is done trying to run away from the consequences of his actions in the past.

“I was blaming myself all this time, thinking that I must have done something wrong, when in reality it was you! It was fucking you!”

“I know, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it to end like this.”

“You didn’t mean it to end like this?” you snap. “You literally continued to treat me like shit for years! If it wasn’t for Valerie, you’d still be a complete dick to me! And what was your intention with this now, huh? Why did you tell me all of this now?!”

“Because I couldn’t stop… seeing you be so unhappy with someone who clearly doesn’t deserve you in any way. I’m selfish and I realized that I made a mistake, but I now know what I should have done, because…” He finally turns to face you again, you see a tear roll down his cheek as he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I’m fucking done pretending like I don’t.”

You stare back at him, breath caught in your throat and it’s the breaking point. You reach over to his side and unlock the doors so you can open yours and you jump out of the car wanting to get as far away from him as possible. He can’t just throw all of this on you after everything the two of you went through, that’s not how it works. Does he even mean it? How are you supposed to believe him after years of hatred?

You try to get inside the building, but he is quick to catch up with you, he grabs your upper arm and pulls back, but you yank his hold away. 

“Where are you going?!” he snaps towering above you.

“Home. And don’t fucking touch me!”

“But I literally just told you I love you, you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

At first you plan on not even answering, you make your way towards the door, but then you change your mind. Turning around you unload on him once again.

“You don’t have the right to tell me you love me! Not after all the shit I took from you! How am I supposed to believe it when you literally made me feel like shit for all these years, saying the meanest stuff to me every damn time we met! I was avoiding you like the plague because I can’t even count how many times you made me cry calling me names and treating me so fucking horrible! No, you are not just gonna waltz in here, tell me that I have to break up with my boyfriend because you’ve been in love with me all along. I don’t fucking believe you, Harry. So stay the fuck away from me,” you tell him and push your way inside. This time he doesn’t follow.

By the time you reach your front you’re sobbing, barely seeing from your own tears. With shaking hands you unlock the door and get inside shutting the door behind you before you collapse on the floor. 

Harry lives in delusion if he thinks he can just unload all of this on you and make everything right magically. Not after more than three years of the shit you took from him. How are you supposed to believe that he is telling the truth? If he loved you all along, how could he treat you like that? That’s not what love should feel like. All those countless times when you came home after seeing him and you couldn’t help but cry after some of his meanest comments… and now he is trying to make you believe he did it all to protect you from him? Bullshit.

It doesn’t work like that and now he is gonna have to face the consequences of his actions. 

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp​ @perspnhel​ @http-cherries​  @h-arrystyles​ @just-damn-bored​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @gwenlovesharrystyles​ @perfectywrong​ @do-youseeme​ @burberryharold​  @irwindoll​ @stylesfics-xx​ @sltwins​ @mellamolayla​ @funeral-7​  @yourkidsfavbabysitter​ @nesiamenick​ @sunflower6why​ @rainbowbutterflyboy​​

[sumsebien]

by design pt.2 // Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: one room and two very confused individuals.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

a/n: don’t ask me how. i don’t know either :) (edited: i added another scene yall)

Friedrich stood awkwardly next to the coffee table, looking out the window while you sat on the couch all the way across the room from him. A queen-sized bed splitting the space into his side and yours that none of you were willing to cross.

“The weather-“ Friedrich began, taking a quick peek outside, “-is lovely, don’t you think?”

“It really is.” You were just going to say that.

It had been 15 minutes and that was the first thing you had said to each other after the doors were closed. Both of you were longing for lunch time to arrive for an escape, any escape from this tragic situation you felt developing.

“I-“

“I-“

“Oh, you were saying?” he asked.

“No, nothing. You?”

“I was just-I think I’ll head out for a minute. Check on where the rest of the luggage is.”

It was confirmed. He absolutely despised your guts. That was not his job. A Prince never had to check on anything. If he wanted to stay, there was nothing that could stop him. Not even some stupid luggage. He must be leaving because he didn’t want to stay in your company any longer.

“Oh, of course.”

Friedrich gave you a small smile, walking towards the door with the least amount of elegance anyone had ever seen. His legs didn’t even feel like they were even his. There went all of his posture and diplomatic training.

As the Prince, he was forced to sit in numerous lessons on the art of making conversation and had to put it into practice almost immediately at dinner with his father. At Cambridge, he spent three years studying international relations, different societies and their interactions.

But somehow, the weather was the first thing he talked about. It was such a poor attempt that he was absolutely certain you found him dull. Even he thought it was dull.

And the walk? He could not explain where that came from. He was a giraffe who suffered an identity crisis and had no awareness of its legs.

There was no way in hell he was going to make you suffer through this the entire day. He thought as he asked his guards to find Heinrich. He was going to fix this.

Lunch had passed and soon came time for dinner.

You sat and watched the plate of beans, stale bread and soup go cold. It wasn’t because you were a picky eater by any means or that you held some sort of contempt for people less fortunate than yourself. It was none of that. It was the voice inside your head, feeding you paranoia every second that passed.

He would probably walk than sit on the same train as you. Remember his face? And the small talk that he kept having to make? Probably did not think you were worth any real conversation.

You stood up abruptly and then sat down again, the skirt of your dress rustling with your movement. You huffed, staring out the window with no intention of admiring the landscape. You just needed something else to think about. But there was simply nothing other than this.

Just as you were about to call your maids in to clear away the food, you heard a knock on the door. Careful this time, you stood up and told whoever on the other side to come in.

It was Friedrich. You scanned his expression with caution, hesitantly. He wore a gleeful grin on his face, his eyes gleaming. The happiest you had seen him. But it was fleeting, quickly wiped off when he saw your face. Were you that terrible?

He took a glance at the neglected tray and then back up at you. “Was the food not good?”

“Oh, I just wasn’t hungry.”

“Your lady’s maids are just outside. Would you like anything? Fruits?”

You shook your head. Through the gap he left, you could see Lea and Ilse’s figures. You walked past him to the doors, calling them in.

Once they saw your face, they immediately rushed into the room, curtsied to the both of you and took the tray away. You just stood next to the door and gazed aimlessly at the floors. Friedrich who was impressed turned to you with a remark that completely missed you.

“Yes?” you asked again.

“Nevermind that,” he smiled, “I have found a solution!”

“What?”

“A solution to our problem,” he gestured between the two of you. A glimmer of hope flashed in front of your eyes, so close that if you had reached out your hand you would have caught it. Your heartbeat hastened, your fingers clenching around themselves.

“I have rented out a compartment for myself. It should work perfectly well! You can have this room!”

Whatever else he said blew away. You heard none of it.

You could still see perfectly clearly though. A smile plastered on his face, his lips moving so fast you could not make out what he was saying even if you tried. He seemed so cheerful, so satisfied with himself that he had dealt with this, with you.

You blinked at him, your arms going limp at your side. Were you so despisable? That he had to leave the entire day just to figure out how to get away from you?

But where is the surprise? Even your own parents struggled to love you. All your life you had to live everyday knowing you were undeserving. Undeserving of your father’s pride from the moment you came into the world a girl. Undeserving of your mother’s affection for not being foolish enough. And undeserving of your betrothal’s tolerance. Not likable enough. Not pretty enough. Not Daphne or even Cressida.

“Y/N?”

His voice brought you back. You quickly ducked your head, rubbing away the tears that were gathering at the rim of your eyes. “Yes. Thank you.”

He paused, tilting his head to try and match your faze. “Is something wrong? Did I offend you?”

You waved him off, turning the corners of your lips upward in a show of pretend. “Not at all.”

“You’re crying.”

You sniffed. “Allergies. I apologize.”

You opened the door, “I believe your compartment awaits you. I will be completely fine, I promise.”

He walked over to the door, prompting you to take a step back and clicked it shut before you. “No,” he said, “there is something wrong. It’s my fault, isn’t it? You can tell me. I won’t be offended.”

You walked away from him, your back to him. “There is nothing wrong. There is nothing else I can say.”

“Y/N. I know you don’t trust me. But we are to be husband and wife-“

You spun around, all of your control gone. “Then why won’t you treat me so?”

Friedrich stared at you, unblinking.

“I know I am not who you expected. I am not who anyone expected,” you laughed bitterly, flicking your eyes up towards the ceiling to blink back the tears. “That much I know very well.”

“Y/N-“

You stopped him with the shake of your head. “But you must know that it is not my choice either. You don’t want to be in the same room as me yet you won’t let me leave.” Your fingers had been gripping on the fabric of your skirt. So tightly that it hurt when you yanked them away, throwing them in the air. “What must I do then? Disappear?”

“Y/N. Why do you think I did that?”

You sighed in exasperation. “You despise me!”

When your lungs were gasping for breath was when you knew you were done. Your breaths became deeper, easing the burning in your lungs but not the burning you felt in your heart. You took your time to watch him, really observe. His lips were pressed into a line as he watched you with pained eyes. Your words had slashed him but you did not know that. You did not think he would care.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely louder than a summer breeze and calmer than a pond on a windless day. “I don’t despise you.”

“Y-you don’t...?”

He shook his head. “I got us separate rooms and I am giving you your space and your freedom because you clearly did not have in England.”

“I-“

“I didn’t have any freedom growing up either. People have a lot of input in my life. I know what it feels like to be an outsider in my own body, to want to run away and be myself. I may not have had it as bad as you but I still understand. And I am trying to give you your freedom.”

You stumbled onto the chair behind you and sat down. Friedrich sat across from you. The rounded coffee table was the only thing between you. He leaned against the arm, looking at you like he always did. But only now that you realized what exactly it was that he held in his gaze.

Sympathy.

“I am sorry if I made you feel like I despised you. Because that is not what I am trying to do.”

“No. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have lost control of myself like that. I obviously don’t know you enough to assume.”

An idea flashed in his eyes, he sat up, that excitement filling his blue eyes again. “How about we change that? I want to get to know you. And I will tell you whatever you want to know about me. Does that sound fair?”

“Fair.”

...

You were both painfully aware that there was only one bed. The both of you eyed it, wondering what you were supposed to do. It wasn’t as if any of you had any intention of doing anything other than talk. Right?

Well, you’d be lying if you said your mind wasn’t going somewhere else.

You didn’t know about him but you had been preparing yourself mentally for your wedding night ever since your mother gave you the talk. You just never thought that the first time you would share a bed with a man, your husband for that matter was to talk.

It was not that you were disappointed. You just did not know what to do. Somehow, this was more awkward than the ballet performance your father made you perform for his siblings and their children at Christmas. If there was ever a competition amongst the most humiliating instances in your life, that one would win, well, would have won.

“I will sit in the chair, you take the bed,” Friedrich decided.

It didn’t take a genius to see that the little wooden armchair was not going to be comfortable for him. Hell, you yourself had difficulty relaxing against the bumpy wooden backrest. He was essentially twice its height and had much more muscles than you. He simply would not fit.

“No, if anything, I’ll sit. It’ll be more comfortable for me.”

He quickly shut that idea down with the shake of the head. “No, I simply cannot allow that.”

“Why not?”

“Well for a start, I started this mess. You shouldn’t have to suffer the consequences-“

“I started it too!”

“You weren’t the one who placed a bet with my father, were you?”

“Bet?” What bet? He never told you about any bet?

Friedrich could see panic slowly rising in your eyes. He hadn’t meant to say it like that. It sounded as though this was all a game to him. You were probably thinking it was at that very moment.

“I,” he began, searching for the right words for a moment before he continued, “my father always wanted me to marry someone of his choice. It wasn’t ideal for me, I had had my freedom. I wasn’t going to give it all up. So I made a deal with him. If I ended up married at the end of the season, he would not be able to intervene.”

“But you weren’t married.”

He nodded.

Quietly gazing at the ground, you said nothing else and just sat down on the edge of the bed. Friedrich couldn’t see your eyes but he began to worry he had offended you.

Of course, he did. What was he thinking? He basically said marrying you was akin to being in a cell. He might as well have said that. What was the difference really?

Then, out of the blue, you apologized. An apology which felt wholly unnecessary. It sent him into a daze. “W-whatever are you apologizing for?” It was you who deserved an apology.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, looking up, “about Daphne and about your father. I’m not sure I could have pulled myself together as well as you did at our wedding if I were you.”

Wordlessly, he sat down next to you, the both of you staring straight ahead. He didn’t think he handled it well at all. He just showed up. But then he decided against saying anything lest he ruined the conversation again.

After a little while, you turned to him with a question. “You loved her, did you?”

If you had asked him that question a couple of days ago, before he met you, he would have said yes immediately. He was very certain that he loved Daphne Bridgerton. But now that you were in the mix, he had other feelings to compare whatever he felt with Daphne to.

With Daphne, there was attraction. A lot of it. Perhaps so much that it had temporarily blinded him. There was also the pressure of the bet. Once he found someone he felt like he could love, he made the leap.

But something was amiss. There was always a concern that they wouldn’t quite connect on a deeper level. He knew that if he were to be having this conversation with Daphne instead of you, he wouldn’t have shared so much about his relationship with his father.

Yet, with you, he just knew you would understand.

“Did you love Simon?”

You shook your head, your eyes on your hands. “No, I didn’t. Not in the way I wanted to. I barely knew him. My parents did though. They were pushing me towards him when you and Daphne began to court.”

“And if they had asked you to marry him, would you have?”

The corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly. “I don’t have any other choice.”

Ever since that day at the abbey, he had suspected that this arrangement was forced upon you as well. Having it confirmed by you, however, saddened him. For you, it was never a question of this or that. It was either you did as you were told or you suffered. At least, he had a shot. You never did.

“I have no say in anything. Not even with my own performance at family gatherings,” you added, swinging your legs back and forth gently. The small smile on your lips lightened the mood. It made him smile as well.

“Me neither. It was quite the embarrassment.”

“I once fell flat on my face at Christmas trying to perform a ballet.”

“You did?”

You nodded. “And then I laid there. Like a log of wood.”

“That is still not as embarrassing as the time I got an awful grade in arithmetic. And came lunch time, it was splattered all over the papers: ‘Prince Friedrich does not know how to count.’“

You tried to hold back a laugh. But you couldn’t, your entire body was shaking with laughter. As a last attempt to save some grace, your hand flew to cover your mouth. A habit you had formed over the years living with a strict mother. Well, you weren’t sure if there was any grace left but it certainly sounded less like a hyena and more like a hyena with a rope around its mouth.

Friedrich couldn’t care less though. Very quickly, he joined you, leaning forward with a chuckle.

You found yourself looking at him and thinking how nice his laugh sounded. It wasn’t obnoxiously loud like the ones that echoed all across the estate during one of your father’s dinner parties. It wasn’t too perfectly staged either. It was simply a delightful sound. A laugh anyone would be jealous of.

When the room returned to its familiar silence, his arms accidentally brushed yours. The unexpected graze was so brief that you didn’t think he even noticed. You, on the other hand, were very aware.

To mask your increasingly reddening cheeks and clammy hands, you opted to carry on with the conversation. “I guess gossip papers truly are everywhere.”

“For an appetite so voracious, it is only fair. At Buckingham, everyone reads Lady Whistledown.”

You paused, shaking your head to yourself. “You read Lady Whistledown?”

“I must admit it is quite entertaining when it is not your name on the front page. You read it too, right?”

“Of course!” you grinned,” I am not allowed to but I find my ways. Who could dare dream of missing out on London’s latest?”

“So what are you allowed to read?”

“Nothing. Which is why I read everything I can get my hands on.”

You then continued to recount your late night adventures sneaking into the library. You seemed so proud that he couldn’t help but smile and nod along.

There was also that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he learned more and more about your upbringing. You seemed to know that the nonsensical rules your parents imposed on you were unusual too. But somehow, you had learned to accept it as nothing more than a fact of life. You never spoke of them or referred to them with spite. Certainly not had the same sour taste that Friedrich had on his tongue everytime he spoke about his father.

The Duke and Duchess of Clarence were damn lucky to have you as their daughter. They certainly did not deserve it though. He thought bitterly.

...

You and Friedrich ended up in bed, talking all night.

By the time dawn was on the horizon, you had both finished recounting your childhood tales, leaving nothing behind. In the end, the two of you found in this complicated arrangement so much more than either of you could bargain for. A confidant.

“Who is to say the betrothed can't be good friends?” Friedrich said, leaning against the headboard as he looked up at the ceiling.

You laughed. “Not us apparently.”

“Would you be able to promise me something?” He turned his head to look at you.

If there was one thing Friedrich learned after hours of conversation, it was that you were the best friend he had never had. And he was not going to let that go. Not even for his own feelings.

“Yes?”

“That we will remain friends even if we can’t love each other like we should.”

You grinned, sticking out your pinky. “Promise.”

...

Dear sister,

Everything is in order. All that is left to be done is for my ‘Diamond of the season’ to produce a male heir....

Bernadine closed the letter and stuffed it in her trunk of clothes at the faintest sounds of footsteps echoing in the hallway outside. Putting on the sweetest smile, Bernadine made sure she was the first thing he saw coming into the room.

“Good evening, your Majesty. How was hunting?”

The King entered the room swiftly, slamming the doors behind it. She did not jump, immediately following him and helping him with his cloak.

“Didn’t catch anything,” he said, shaking off his muddy boots onto the floors. “The weather. Too gloomy and rainy. Scared off the deers.”

Bernadine hung the fur cloak up. While the King disappeared into the bathroom, she quickly closed the blinds, of course not missing the bright blue sky and the royal garden bathing in sunlight.

“Yes, the weather has been absolutely terrible these past few days.”

When he came out of the bathroom, she made sure to cling onto his side, steering him towards the desk. “Are you feeling better, my love?”

“Much. Made sure the train stayed right here before I left. Good luck travelling with the lower-class, son.”

The King began to cackle uncontrollably at that, even had to sit down at one point. And Bernadine made sure that he sat right before the stack of paperwork sent for him this morning.

“That is a genius idea!”

“I know it was. What is this?”

“This is everything that needed to be signed while you were gone.”

The King cleared his voice, taking his quill and began to scribble his name on every page. Even the one that had nothing to do there along with the more important national matters.

A contract.

taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer @km-98 @mikeys-thighs @lunas1x1 @albeeox @darkestbeforethedawn16 @defffcc @sarcasm-n-insomnia @urie-bowie-mercury @babydidoy @cvpidsletters @mmmh-i-cant-help-myself @fanaticalfantasist @xoxomandoo @little-red02 @heartofrosecoloredglasses @truly-insatiable

let me know if you’d like to be tagged

[caramelcal]

Trained for Sin {part two}

Word Count: 2.2k 

Ship: Luke Patterson x Reader

a/n: wow...here is your highly requested part two! YALL GOT ME FEELIN FAMOUS!! Thank you so much for every single comment, note, request, repost and message. I am so thankful for them all and I’m glad you guys enjoy my silly little fics lol...

Would a ‘Luke Patterson’ tag be something you guys are interested in, so that you would be notified for every Luke fic I post or no? It’s just a little idea right now...

From Luke’s point of view for a bit of ~spice~

Warnings: friends with benefits themes, sexual themes, swearing 

Tags: @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ilymarkchan​ @starjane312​ @miranda0102​ @katrin-okay​ @mah-gah-lee​ @fantastic-fans​ @phantompogues​ @fangirlangioma​

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s account) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

Part One   Masterlist

It wasn’t a particularly normal experience for Luke to be called down by his mom, but he tried to give it no thought as he bounded down the stairs that day. He could faintly hear the sound of a car starting up and leaving outside as he turned his attention towards his mom, “Hey mom, what’s up?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he saw his mother stare down at the parcel with a slight, almost unnoticeable, frown. The older woman walked towards her son, giving him a weak smile as she spoke to him, “A h/c haired girl dropped this off for you. She seemed upset.”

That was even more confusing to Luke. Who would drop him off a parcel, and why would they be upset? He took the package off of his mother, flipping it around to look at the neat handwriting splayed out on the envelope that sat on top of the tan packaging of the parcel. That was your handwriting, but why would you send him a letter and a parcel?

Giving his mom a muttered thanks, Luke doesn’t stay around for any small talk and instead goes back up into his room, kicking the door shut behind him, all of his attention now on the parcel. Something is wrong, he knows that.

The guitar that Luke was playing before he was called down was long forgotten about as he sat down on the edge of his best, ripping the tan paper that you had wrapped the item in. You wrapped it as if it was a gift but it wasn’t. It was his hoodie he had given you the previous night in the car. Why did you not just return this yourself?

He placed the hoodie next to him on his bed, the envelope still in his hand. He was confused. Yet, as he opened the envelope and the key fell onto his lap everything started to fall into place. That was the house key he gave you so that you could come over whenever he needed you. With that, his stomach fell. No.

Luke was far from dumb, and he could already tell what this was going to be. He had dumped girls over text, he had dumped them in person, and just from the start of your letter, he knew what you were writing to him about. He just didn’t want to believe it.

Dear Luke,

This was probably not what you were imagining to get. Maybe you were imagining a present, or maybe you had a parcel that you were supposed to be getting delivered or something but this isn’t like that. Apologies for possibly getting your hopes up, but this way everything will be easier. I won’t have to fumble over my words and you won’t have to sit in embarrassment as some random girl tells you she no longer wants to have sex with you.

After that last statement, I can already tell you’ve probably stopped reading this, possibly ripped it up, or set it on fire and that’s alright. Yet, no matter how cliché it sounds, this isn’t your fault. This...Whatever we had was great while it lasted, especially at the start but now I have to search for something else. For something more...romantic.

I know you aren’t the romantic type, that had become obvious to me over the past months we have been involved with each other and that’s perfectly okay. I never expected anything more from you. I didn’t expect me to ever want anything more either but the more I watch the girls in the hallways with their boyfriend’s sweatshirts on, holding hands, kissing, hugging I can’t help but yearn for that.

I know I can never ask you to give me that because that was not our deal. I was never supposed to want anything more than meaningless sex, but I did, and I do. I’m just sorry it had taken me this long to realize this was not what I wanted; for either of us.

I think it’s best we don’t contact each other again, whether it be over the phone or in real life, not to give ourselves time to heal but to give us time to recover: for you to find a new girl that will give you everything I have and more; less commitment and more adrenaline and for me to find someone that will give me what I want. These last few months have been an interesting experience, and I wish you all the best.

I’m sorry.

You were gone, and you weren’t planning on coming back.

. . .

Luke had never been one for romance. The whole ‘teenage sweethearts' thing wasn’t for him. He knew that a lot of girls would kill to be in a relationship with him, but it was for popularity; you didn’t want that. Popularity was not a factor for you at all, Luke knew that even if he didn’t speak to you much.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke watched you too. Your small manners and quirks, and quickly became good at reading you. That was how he knew you were embarrassed in the car, even if he couldn’t see you blush. Luke knew a lot more about you than you suspected but the one thing he didn’t know was that you liked romance. Yet, it seemed that was new to you too. 

He thought you were all about the adrenaline and hook-ups like he was, and after seeing how you were on the first night you guys spent together, he thought you were more experienced than you had been. Walking through school felt different now as he glanced over at your locker, noticing your lack of presence. It didn’t feel right.

It was like an itch at his fingers, that something was off about him and he didn’t like it. Throughout the class, he couldn’t focus, his mind in a muddle and hands lightly trembling. It was like withdrawal. Withdrawal from you.

It wasn’t long before Luke walked out of the classroom, not caring about asking for teacher permission. Having a rich dad certainly had its benefits. The school was mostly funded by well-off individuals, allowing the school funds to pay teachers and make the school the best it could be, and with his dad being one of the main ones, he could get away with a lot. Luke’s dad never being around never really was an issue for Luke, he didn’t know what having a dad present was like.  Luke was just happy he could get away with a lot of things like skipping class and not handing in homework.

He made his way down the corridor, subconsciously finding himself heading towards the music department. It was abnormally quiet down there, normally the music department was bustling with sound, but maybe he would find sanity in the silence. That was what he was banking on.

A new sound evaded his senses however, the soft playing of piano keys in a nice and calming melody and he found himself drifting towards the sound. What he was met with, he was surprised. Leaning against the door frame, he watched you, your back turned to him, but he could tell from a mile away that it was you, “I didn’t know that you played.”

The piano playing stopped, indicating that you heard him, but you made no turn to move. He sighed, eyes looking over your figure before walking towards you. He slid next to you on the piano, looking over at your face, the direction of your gaze staying firmly ahead, not daring to stray to look over at him.

His gaze moved back down to the piano keys as he softly played a tune, clearing his throat a little, “Where is everyone?”

“Spirit assembly, they’ll be gone for the next two periods,” You replied monotonously as you continued to stare straight forward. Luke’s eyes stayed on the side of your face, not even looking down at the keys as he played effortlessly. You turned to face him, gesturing towards his face then to his hands, “Is this supposed to psych me out or something?”

Raising his eyebrows, Luke shook his head, his fingers lifting off of the piano keys, “What? No!”

“Whatever, Patterson,” You grumbled, getting up off of the piano seat and going to walk away, only for Luke to grab onto your lower arm in an attempt to stop you, “What?”

“I- uh- I just wanted to say you were good at playing the piano,” Luke commented dumbly, giving you a smile to which you responded with a blank stare. Luke did mean it when he said you were good at playing the piano but that was not what he meant to say. He meant to say something that would make you stay, that would get you to kiss him, to hold hands, and to be happy with him.

Because although he didn’t know it until he got your letter, he knew clearly now. He wanted to be with you, whether that meant fuck buddies, or if it meant dating with every single string attached.

“Really, Patterson? What are you trying to do here? Compliment me back into getting into bed with you?”

“Of course not,” Luke dismissed, climbing over the piano seat so that he stood right in front of you. He grabbed both of your hands, squeezing them in his lightly as he looked into your eyes, “Listen, I’m sorry.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, confusion striking you as you asked, “What have you got to be sorry about, Patterson?”

“Everything. Y/n, I-I’m sorry that I initiated this whole thing between us two with the no feelings, because from that moment on when I said no feelings I was lying to not only you to but me.” Luke started, looking down at the floor as he began to let his feelings take over. It was one of the first times that Luke ever found himself relying on feelings to get words across, but it felt good to be able to let it out, “Y/n, I always thought I would never do relationships, but with you everything is different. I would hold hands with you down the hall, run around confessing my love for you. I would kiss you and hug you until the sun rose. I would do anything for you, y/n/n.”

Luke’s hazel stared down at your eyes, his ramble coming to an end, making him whisper the end part as he leaned closer to you. Whilst one hand still held onto your hands, one of his hands was on the side of your face, a calloused thumb stroking your cheek gently as he bent down to make direct eye contact with you.

You were dumbfounded. Luke Patterson just confessed his love for you. Luke Patterson. You didn’t know what to say. You never thought that Luke would ever be the type of person to chase after a girl because he wasn’t normally. So why was he so eager about you? He never seemed to show any interest but maybe he was like you; hiding your feelings until they become unbearable.

Butterflies formed in your stomach whilst you tried your best to fight off the smile that came on to your face, looking at Luke with soft eyes, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Luke nodded his head with a light laugh, a smile on his face. You didn’t say anything in return and instead, you connected your lips with his. You had kissed Luke one hundred times before but nothing compared to the electricity of the kiss you felt right now.

Whilst normally the adrenaline flooded your veins, instead, it was love. It was different from what you were used to, but every touch of Luke on you felt like sparks, like the passion you had put into the kiss sparked electricity with it.

Luke disconnected your lips as he looked down, his hand letting go of your face as his arms went lower, beckoning you to jump up with his head, so you did. With you now in Luke’s arms, you reconnected your lips again, hands pulling on the brown strands of hair on the back of his head.

You barely even paid attention to the fact that Luke walked over to the piano as you deepened the kiss, his teeth biting gently down on your bottom lip, making you open your mouth in surprise. He took the opportunity for his tongue to explore your mouth, and you allowed it, pulling yourself closer to his chest, trying to get as close as you could to the boy. The boy who just confessed his love for you.

The spine of the piano was folded down and Luke placed the top of the piano down, causing you to disconnect your lips and look down at the sleek, polished, black top of the piano that Luke placed you on top of. You looked back at Luke, a look of hesitation to which he nodded, “Luke, no, we can’t do it here! What if we get caught?”

“You said it yourself y/n/n, everyone will be at spirit rally for the next hour,” Luke smirked, kissing you which made you smirk into the kiss as well.

With that, Luke lightly pushed you down onto the piano, climbing over the top of you, letting out breathlessly, “I love you.”

Luke didn’t wait for your response as he bent down to your neck, sucking on it, prepared to leave many marks littering your skin. However, you didn’t oppose, instead your hands made their way up Luke’s back and into his hair, letting out a gasp as he sunk his teeth lightly into your skin. 

And so the games begin.

[matthewtkachuk]

forgive me - rafe cameron

you’re ready to forgive Rafe, but first you’re going to make him work for it, sequel to ignore me

warnings: smutty smut smut (sorry not sorry), oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, lil bit of cockwarming (for @anxietyandtacos)

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: in honor of me hitting 700, here’s the long-awaited sequel to ignore me, i hope yall enjoy 😏 (lowkey this isn’t proofread, sorry not sorry)

Rafe Cameron was the most annoying person on the planet, he was persistent and determined and so goddamn stubborn. He didn’t like to take no for an answer, and he knew every button of yours to press, and boy did he enjoy pressing them. He would pick and prod and poke until it drove you absolutely crazy and you had no choice but to acknowledge him. Above all though, he truly, deeply loved you and that’s why you could never stay mad at him. He didn’t need to know that, though.

After some of the best make up sex you’d ever had in your life, after you had left him in a huff to spend the night in the spare room once again, he’d ramped up his efforts to earn your forgiveness. The next morning he tried the breakfast angle again, this time bringing you eggs benny and a mimosa from your favorite brunch place on the island right to you in bed. You had to hide your smile as you sat up against the headboard and took the tray from him without even a half-hearted thank you. He didn’t say anything, but you saw the way his mouth twisted into a little pout and you could practically hear the gears in his head turn as he thought of his next step.

After you’d finished your breakfast, you made your way back home, thinking the extra bit of distance might further frustrate and motivate him. Lying on your couch, you spent your time scrolling through the several messages Rafe had left for you and giggling at his desperation. The earlier anger you had felt had all but faded, leaving behind soft fondness as you scrolled through various iterations of ‘I’m sorry baby’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘talk to me’ and ‘please’.

As it turns out, Rafe’s next step arrived after lunch in the form of Sarah Cameron holding a garment bag in one hand and a box that looked suspiciously like it might hold a necklace within.

You scoffed at the items in her hands, lifting an eyebrow as you told her, “If he thinks he’s going to buy my forgiveness…” you paused thoughtfully, eyeing the label on the garment bag and the Tiffany blue packaging of the jewelry box, “Well, damn he might be right.” Sarah only giggled and handed off the items to you, telling you that was only ‘the beginning’ and to be ready by 5.

Part of you thought about ignoring your instructions, slipping on a pair of fuzzy pajamas and watching movies with a glass of wine. The thought of Rafe’s face seeing you on the couch when he arrived that evening was almost enough to do it. But, truthfully, you weren’t even that mad anymore and you were really curious to see what kind of dress he had picked out for you. Looking at the time, you sighed. You really needed to shower, and you liked to take your time getting ready, so you got off the couch and headed up into your bathroom.

After your shower, you unzipped the garment bag and admired the silky, black fabric of the dress, more than a little impressed with Rafe. You spent the next few hours slowly getting ready, taking the time to do your hair and even bringing out the winged eyeliner. Your last step was slipping on the dress, loving the feel of the fabric against your skin.

At five o clock on the dot, your doorbell rang. You took your time swiping a thin coat of lip gloss to your lips before rolling them with a smack. Slipping on a pair of simple black heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time. Rafe had done well choosing the dress, it was in your exact size and hugged the contours of your body perfectly. A small smirk graced your face as you imagined his reaction, and you couldn’t wait any longer, leaving the sanctity of your bedroom. You heard Rafe making small talk with your parents as you descended the steps. Your mother had loved Rafe the moment you brought him home as your boyfriend, but your father had taken longer to warm up to him. It made your heart happy to see the two of them getting along and so you rushed down the last few steps to keep from breaking out into a wide grin.

His jaw dropped slightly when you came into sight, eyes respectfully roaming the black dress hugging your figure. “You look beautiful,” he smiled, though his eyes furrowed when he noticed your bare neck.

“Could you help me put this on?” You asked softly, handing him the diamond necklace you grasped in your small hand and turning around, lifting your hair. You couldn’t help the shiver as his hands brushed against your décolletage and quickly clasped the necklace. He was grateful you didn’t feel how his hands shook.

Spinning back around, you grabbed his hand and tried to wish your parents goodnight and make a speedy getaway, but of course your father had other ideas.

“Have her back by 11,” your father gruffly reminded him and you rolled your eyes.

“Dad, I’m twenty years old,” You told him exasperatedly, but he just shook his head and reminded you that you were ‘under his roof’ for the summer.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, darling,” Your mom smiled, placing her hand on your father’s bicep to calm him. Grinning at her, you told them you loved them and all but dragged Rafe out the door. The second the door closed, you let his hand fall and walked purposefully to his truck. The way his smile fell a little hurt your heart, but you were playing the long game and it was too soon to give in. Rushing ahead of you, he opened the door and helped you in before shutting it for you and jogging to the driver side. He didn’t make a move to grab your thigh, and you found yourself missing the warm comfort it provided. While avoiding his gaze, you grabbed his hand from the wheel and placed it on its familiar position on your upper thigh, watching the way the side of his mouth upturned in your peripheral vision.

It didn’t take long to reach your destination, the cute new restaurant with seating on the waterfront. You had been talking about going there since it opened, but you and Rafe hadn’t yet found the time to go. You gave him a questioning look, there was definitely a wait list but he just shrugged and smiled before getting out of the vehicle and meeting you on the passenger side, opening the door for you again and helping you out. He tossed the keys at the valet, and walked into the restaurant, and you didn’t let go of his hand this time.

Sitting at your table overlooking the calm water, the late afternoon made its way into evening in a flurry of smiles and laughter and quiet conversation. You didn’t know if it was the way his larger hand held yours over the table, the soft adoration in his gaze, or the messy way his hair fell in his eyes, but by the time the entrees had been cleared from the table you knew you needed him. You could pretend the whole date hadn’t done a thing for you, or you could try and get him to show you just how sorry he was.

As he looked through the dessert menu, you squeezed his hand and murmured his name. He looked up at you and flushed a little under your intense gaze, asking, “Baby?”

“Take me home,” you told him slowly, and you saw his face fall. Sighing a little, he nodded “Alright-“

“No, Rafe. Take me home,” you emphasized the last word, tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip. This time, you saw comprehension flash in his eyes and he nodded quickly, pulling out his wallet and dropping a couple hundred dollar bills on the table, more than enough to cover your bill and leave a generous tip.

The drive back to his house was considerably quicker than the drive to the restaurant, and his hand rested dangerously high on your upper thigh the entire drive, stroking it softly and ever so slightly moving closer to where you needed him without ever actually touching. The second he threw the truck into park, he was hopping out of the vehicle. Thankful that Ward, Rose and Wheezie were on the mainland for the week and Sarah was probably slumming it down on the Cut, Rafe pulled you into the house and slammed you against the shut front door, eerily reminiscent of when you had slammed it only a few days ago royally pissed off at your boyfriend.

You hungrily kissed him, hands running through and messing up his already messy hair. One of his hands gripped your waist tightly, the other cupped your left breast. Whimpering into his mouth as the hand on your waist slid down your side and slipped under your dress, you tugged on his hair. “Upstairs?” you asked when he broke the kiss to look at you. He smirked and you gasped when he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, hand squeezing your ass just because it was right there and he could.

He set you down gently on your feet, both of his hands coming to rest on either side of your jaw as he pulled you in for a slow, passionate kiss. You felt your head spin, seeing stars as one of his hands slipped a little lower and began to gently put pressure on your neck. Gasping, you started to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping your hand underneath the material and pulling it off of him. Your hands trailed down his toned chest and over his abs, before your smaller hands fumbled with his belt, pulling it clean from the belt loops of his dress pants. When you reached for the button, he pushed your hands away and spun you around to unzip your dress, pressing your chest into the door.

First, he pushed your hair over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade before beginning to slowly pull the zipper down your back. Kissing every inch of back he exposed, all the way down to where your lower back met your ass before standing back up and pushing the dress off your shoulders, allowing it to spill at your feet. You turned around, back pressed to his bedroom door, and stood before him in just your matching lingerie set, and your entire body felt hot from the way he was looking at you – like you were everything he could ever possibly want. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, causing your face to get even warmer.

Running his hands from your shoulder blades, down to your wrists, he linked your hands together as he pressed open mouth kisses down your neck and between your breasts. Pausing to mouth at your nipple through the lace of your bra, he continued kissing and sucking his way down your chest and stomach, stopping at the lace of your panties. You sucked in a deep breath as he sunk to his knees, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before pulling your panties down your legs and helping you step out of them. He leaned back, admiring your core before stroking you slowly with his index finger, gathering the wetness on the tip of his finger. “Such a pretty pussy baby,” he whispered, “and all wet just for me,”

“Rafe,” you whined, hands moving to grip his hair as he lazily played with you, carefully avoiding your entrance and your clit. He smirked up at you, large hand gripping one of your thighs and lifting it to rest over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you,” he kissed his way up your thigh, tongue flicking out of his mouth to lick at your clit once, twice. You jerked your hips, one hand leaving his hair to grip the dresser that stood beside his door. He pulled his head back and tilted it up to look at you, continuing with a smirk, “as long as you forgive me.”

The way he was looking at you coupled by his grip on your thigh had you unable to speak. Rafe mistook it as you stubbornly holding onto your anger, choosing to press his thumb to your clit and kiss the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Forgive me baby? Please you know I can’t stand you bein’ mad at me. I miss you.” He murmured against the smooth skin of your leg. You still couldn’t speak, and so he pressed his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking as you moaned above him. Suddenly stopping, he leaned back to look at you, indicating he wouldn’t continue until you spoke.

“I- yes, I forgive you, please, I-“ you whined, tugging on his hair. Sighing in a mixture of relief and pleasure as he reattached his mouth to your pussy, your head hit the back of the door with a bang when he slipped a finger into you, then another. You couldn’t help but grind your pussy against his face as he noisily sucked and licked. Eating you out was one of Rafe’s favorite things to do, and he once joked that suffocating between your thighs was the only way he wanted to go. It didn’t take long for you to reach your high after he inserted a third finger into you, curling all three fingers and stroking your walls. Your legs shook and you whined his name as you came, slumping against the door. If Rafe hadn’t been holding you up, you’re certain you would have fallen to the ground, boneless. After he had licked you clean, he gently set your leg back on the ground and rose from his knees before he pressed you into the door, kissing you as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His hand wrapped around your body and easily undid the clasp of your bra, slipping the fabric down your arms until you stood bare before him entirely.

Pressing a kiss to your lips again, he began to undo the button of his pants, before telling you to ‘get on the bed, baby’. Your legs felt like jello as you made the four steps to the bed, crawling onto the bed and laying against the pillows, watching him slip out of his pants and boxers, mouthwatering at the sight of his naked body.

You waited with baited breath as he crawled his way over your body, leaning down to kiss you again, slipping his tongue in your mouth as your chests pressed together. You ran your hands up his muscled back, holding him close to you as you kissed. He leaned his body weight on his forearms that rested on either side of your head, before reaching down to guide himself into your warm heat. The stretch was so good it was almost painful as he slowly entered you, inch by inch until your hips met. He was slow at first, keeping an even pace as he pressed kisses against your neck, your chest. “See how good it can be when you forgive me, baby?” he murmured into your neck. You could only whine in response, holding him tightly to your body.

It was the way his hips thrust in and out of you, the soft affirmations he whispered in between breathy, whiny moans, the way he gripped the headboard. It was the way he told you he loved you when he was fucking you into the mattress, the look in his eyes as he hiked your leg up further up his hip to enter you even deeper. It was the perfectly imperfect combination of all things Rafe Cameron that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your pussy clenching on his dick, as you came hard for the second time. Groaning at the feeling of you around him, he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high.

Wanting to help him, you pressed a kiss to the spot just under his ear, smiling when he rewarded you with a whiny moan. Mind clouded with the pleasure he was still giving you, you incoherently rambled in his ear, “God I love you so much baby, you’re so good to me. You make me feel so good, no one can make me feel this good but you.”

Groaning, he slipped a hand down to rub against your clit, hoping to bring you to your third orgasm as he approached his own. Back arching without warning, you came unexpectedly around him again, crying his name and “I love you” and “I forgive you baby, I forgive you.” Your words spurned him on, and he came inside you before collapsing on top of you, cock still buried deep in you. You held him to your chest as it heaved, willing your soul to return to your body.

“You forgive me, huh?” He mumbled, smirking against your chest, “Was it the three orgasms, dinner, or the Tiffany necklace?”

“Oh baby,” you giggled, leaning down to kiss his sweaty forehead, “I already forgave you before all that, just wanted to make you sweat a little.”

Throwing his head back in a whiny laugh, he pressed a kiss to your chest, “Cruel woman.”

“Ya, but you’ll forgive me.”

everything taglist: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @rekrappeter @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybankfullkook​@girlsru1eboysdroo1 @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @bluesiderudy @anxietyandtacos

[heyitsyn]

White Carnation

Ex!Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

a/n: iwa-chan being your ex is so painful and numbing

huhuhu angst isnt my forte but this is an exception bc chi is my sista

anon request: ex-boyfriend/childhood friend iwaizumi would be super angsty but i have no idea what they’d fight about ,, now imagine if after being kitaichi’s manager/medic, reader becomes karasuno’s medic/temporary manager (until kiyoko got recruited),, then she couldn’t come to the seijoh practice match so she has no idea her team fought her ex,,, only to find out during inter-high and everyone’s like wtf??? that spiky haired ace is your ex?? meanwhile kageyama’s like “yall didn’t know?” — chi

ong this finna be painful

so

its always been the three of you

with living across the oikawas came great perks

even way before you could remember, you were always with the 2 other boys: your neighbor across your house, tooru, and his best friend who practically lived there, hajime

hajime first saw you when you were covered in dirt after you were trying to catch a butterfly for tooru at the back and oikawa pushed you out of the way into a puddle of mud when he saw a bug

iwa stared at you then immediately said ‘my name is iwaijumi hajime. i think youre really pretty’

yep thats really how it went

and poor babie didnt know how to pronounce his ‘z’s yet so it sounds like ‘j’s :(

while tooru liked you because you werent like other girls who stayed inside and played dolls instead playing outside

you played with him at his back yard with the volleyball he owned and always made him laugh and have fun

iwa liked you because you didnt shy away from bugs, instead you were braver than tooru and even helped iwa look for any beetles and caught them for him to keep as pets

they liked you because you were like them

you were like one of the bois

but that kinda hurt you in the future

as you all grew up, you started going through yanno teenager things

like you started to have crushes

specifically on your best friend, iwaizumi hajime

thankfully tooru didnt see you like that and still saw you as one of the bois and saw you as that annoying twin sister

but unfortunately, iwa did too

every time you made an effort to do something to emphasize that you were, hello, a girl, he would laugh and tease you

‘hehe i didnt think you even knew what a dress was!’

was his comment when you came over wearing a yellow sundress with flats

tooru, who you shared these secrets with, gave you a worried glance but you smiled, covering up the hurt

‘meh. my mom forgot to dry my clothes so i had to wear these old clothes’

no, they werent old

they were just bought yesterday with the intention of finally being recognized as girl and complimented

but the person it was for, couldnt even be bothered to remember that you werent just one of the boys and that you possibly wanted to be told that you were pretty or cute

your other best friend noticed your quietness and he stood up from his crouching position and placed a hand on your shoulder, making you look at him

your teary eyes made him sigh but he grinned at you

‘its really pretty, y/n-chan! you should wear it more often! pretty things deserve to be seen and complimented’

god why couldnt you have a crush on oikawa tooru instead

why did it have to be towards the boy who was too caught up with catching bugs and playing ball to ever see you differently and has never said a single praise towards you?

‘what do you think, iwa-chan? isnt she pretty?’

oikawa hinted but hajime remained his eyes on the tv as the players hit the ball, too distracted to even be bothered to look at you

‘she looks the same’

he mumbled and your nose stung and eyes watered, looking down to hide the wobbling of your lips

‘its okay, kawa-chan. can i wear your clothes for now? i dont like this dress thats why i never wore it’

oikawa tried to stop you but you were already straight up the stairs and towards his room

he angrily stomped over to iwa and slapped his arm, startling the other boy and him snarling in pain

‘what the-’

‘youre so dumb. youre so mean. i wonder where she went wrong and what she saw. seriously’

he ranted and moved to sit back on the floor but not before kicking iwaizumi, making him fall on his side

‘OI KUSOKA-’

‘so whos winning?’

your voice interrupted iwa’s mid-scream and he looked up from the floor to see you wearing an alien hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts that were a little too loose so they drooped by your knees

your originally curled and elegantly braided hair was now pulled up into a bun by a scrunchie that you left around the house from years ago

there was a bit of redness around your eyes and iwa scrambled up to check if you were okay since your face looked swollen

‘oi, did you eat something weird? your face is all red so youre probably having a reaction’

he fretted and you watched as his hands glided across your face and held you by the shoulders to take a closer look

‘yea, a reaction from a bad reaction’

thankfully iwa was too busy checking to hear oikawa snarkily whisper and you sent him a glare that made him quiet down

‘haji-kun, im fine’

you dismissed and side stepped to go sit next to oikawa, completely brushing him off

now iwa was confused

you would usually smile up at him, say ‘aw~ are you worried about me, haji-kun?’ then skip over 

not frown and act so coldly

‘oi, y/n, what-’

‘lets go to the bakery! theres a sale going on there!’

oikawa shouted which made you jolt in surprise

he knew of his best friend’s beginning interrogation but he knew you were too upset to be bothered by hajime’s questions

‘they have a buy one get one sale on milk bread! and those-those treats you like! theyre on sale too!’

omg oikawa is a real one 🥺

oikawa blinked harshly at you to go along with the act and you stuttered and nodded

‘uh-eung! yea!’

that was probably the moment that iwaizumi started noticing

except he thought it was a pining between his best friends rather than you towards him

ofc iwa was a loyal friend

he thought that you and oikawa were two people who were crushing on each other yet too afraid to say anything

tbh he shouldve seen this coming because duh you were an incredibly pretty girl and oikawa was the handsomest guy in the whole area!

it was almost,,, natural for you both to gravitate towards each other

maybe thats why,,,

he started to distance himself to give you both the space and want without him in between

maybe thats why,,,

he started to feel these feelings of,, jealousy?? like he started to feel a little scared and honestly he wasnt sure who to be jealous of bc he knew once you started dating, you’d both be too busy to hang out with him

maybe thats why,,,

he was no longer your friend 

iwaizumi hajime became a simple stranger you would just pass by in the hall

it happened around the 2nd year of middle school

you and oikawa were still close friends but you have drifted away into not being as close while you and iwaizumi became,,,, distant

basically strangers

the boy you used to dream about when you were 8 and dreamt of marrying once you were old enough

he was no longer him

before, you and iwa were actually really close without oikawa

like you would hang out when oikawa was too busy with takeru

you both would go to the arcade and play games with no fear of oikawa whining and complaining to take turns

you had a lot of fun together and yet, all of a sudden, everything stopped

because iwa knew how,,, possessive oikawa was

he thought that if he were to continue being friends with you, he would risk losing his best friend out of jealousy or misunderstandings and he didnt want that precious bond to be ruined by a girl

even if that girl,,,

was you

thats why it was so awkward when you came over to oikawa’s house after so long and seeing him there, eating breakfast in the kitchen

your best friend didnt want to tell you that iwa spent the night bc quite frankly, oikawa was already fed up with this

you think he didnt know?

you think he didnt know that iwa distanced himself due to an unknown misunderstanding?

you think he didnt know that you also distanced yourself due to being hurt as he casted you aside?

and oikawa was also worried

he didnt want to ever bring up your name with iwa bc to be honest, he didnt think iwa even liked you all that much

he thought that iwa only tolerated you for so long bc you were the only girl who wasnt in love with oikawa and knew you long enough to be comfortable w you

but babie oiks is misunderstood that :(

he didnt want to ever bring up his name with you bc he knew how sensitive it was for you and how sad and pained you were when he suddenly stopped even replying to your texts

one time when you cornered him, he looked angry and gently pushed you back and quickly walked away 

no he was scared that oikawa could see you both and misunderstand

‘just,,, stay away from me, okay? its better this way’

god you wanted to scream at him and shout at him and punch him but he kept silent and refused to answer your questions and refused to acknowledge your existence

you were so confused and you were just so hurt and eventually, you became indifferent to him and treated him the same way

anyways

you stepped into the house, not even bothering to shout your arrival and quickly wandered through the hallway before turning the corner to go to the kitchen 

but you stopped, seeing the familiar hair with olive eyes eating breakfast on the kitchen island, also stopping with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth at the sight of you

your gazes clashed and you blinked before your lips formed into a thin line, turning and going to the fridge and look for food

iwa wasnt surprised

he figured you were both getting closer to dating and you were already basically living in his house

it all makes sense

BRUH THEYVE BEEN FRIENDS SINCE THEY WERE LTR BORN LIKE BLS THEYRE JUST SIBLINGS

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

‘h-how are you’

he mumbled, trying to fix the awkward silence while cursing inside of how long oikawa was taking to shit

you hummed, taking a water bottle and slamming the fridge door shut, harder than necessary

‘oh, now you see me?’

you really didnt mean for it to be a snarky comment but it came out before you even realized what you said

he winced

‘listen, im-’

‘oh? youre here, y/n-chan!’

oikawa’s voice cut him off and he returned back to his bowl of rice, leaving you standing there furrowing your brows

you shrugged, already knowing that hajime was like this, so you turned to look at oikawa with a wrinkled nose at the sound of the toilet flushing

‘tooru, did you drink straight milk again? you know how it makes your stomach upset’

you chided and tooru turned red at the implication of his dookie

‘o-oi! y/n-chan! of course id know if i was lactose intolerant!’

i just think how funny it would be like the irony of his love for milk bread yet being lactose intolerant at the same time 

he huffed and you nodded but not exactly believing him

‘kay kay’

you teased and walked to the living room but oikawa caught you in a headlock and he ruffled your hair while you complained and whined to let you go

you were giggling as tooru was giving you noogies, feeling the tension leave your body

all while iwa was watching

maybe it was because he stopped hanging out with you and havent seen you like this for almost  a year

so carefree and so happy as you scored higher than him at the hoop game and he would begrudgingly let you hug him when he managed to win you a doll from the claw machine

but yea he definitely forgot your smile

he forgot how it looked like bc the last time you met gazes, you sent him a hurt glance and looked away and he knew he deserved that

god he hated it

but no, he was doing this for tooru

he was doing this because his best friend liked someone who actually deserved him

but dear god why did it hurt

iwa was starting to wonder if he made the right choice

he could easily handle you two dating

right?

maybe that was when iwa started to realize,,, he was starting to feel different towards you

the time apart definitely made him remember why he was friends with you

you weren’t like those girls he saw in tv or outside with the frilly clothes and the makeup and the fancy hair

no that wasnt you

you were different

you were too lazy to even pick out a cute outfit, opting for comfort with one of their sweatshirts and sweatpants

you preferred to chase after butterflies rather than sitting inside bc hajime’s adventurous spirit latched itself on to you too

you would usually climb the tree to get the volleyball that got stuck up in the branches bc tooru was too scared of heights and you wanted to prove your strength and capability

god you were so different

what if you liked him instead?

iwa startled himself with that thought in the middle of eating and caused him to choke on his rice

tooru noticed him coughing violently so he grabbed the water bottle from your hand and threw it straight towards the boy

iwa snapped the cap open,not caring where that water came from, and chugged it down before sighing in relief after the quite scary situation

you then realized what happened and you turned red, speedwalking into the living room

oiks totally didnt do that on purpose and he was doing the lenny face at you before switching masks and wearing a worried one for iwa

‘iwa-chan! you need to slow down!’

he chided and iwaizumi yelled at him to be quiet, completely clueless to the fact that he just shared an indirect kiss with you

but you did and lordie did you hate it

from then on,,,

iwa was just seeing you everywhere

iwa saw you from his classroom when you would go hang out with your new friends outside 

he noticed you not even being too loud, only speaking up when asked while the others opted to continue talking about nonsense you probably gave no care about with how you secretly rolled your eyes

those moments made him laugh

the next time you both ran into each other was during his morning practice

oikawa phoned you in the morning while you were getting ready, saying he accidentally left his knee pads at home and he was already at school but you werent so he wanted you to bring them to him

you knew damn well that iwaizumi hajime would be there but you didnt care because youre not even friends anymore after he just dropped you like that

YES SISTER WE DESERVE BETTER

so thats why you found yourself pushing the metal gym door open at 6 in the morning and shouting oikawa’s name

his eyes brightened at your voice and he dropped the ball to run towards you by the door

‘oh my god thank you so much, y/n-chan!’

he shouted and hugged you out of excitement while you cringed and hit him to get off of you

‘ew dont touch me trashykawa’

you mumbled and he whined, finally stepping away with a pout

iwa was watching you both from the side and he blinked, wondering if you were trying a new hairstyle

if not, then you changed something bc currently, you practically glowing to him

he watched you scold oikawa for being forgetful and him begging for forgiveness but also thanking you before he was scoldede again by the coach

but the coach was relieved that he could finally play with the proper equipment and not risk anymore injuries

oikawa was already bidding you good bye and you were about to turn to leave when you finally met the many gazes of iwaizumi hajime

your eyebrows unconsciously furrowed together and your lips turned to a frown then you sharply turned and walked through the doors

unbeknownst to him, oikawa watched as his best friend’s face turned hurt at your expression and remained staring at the door you just went out of even when you were already gone

‘iwa-chan, lets get to practice’

after that 

iwa has concluded god has decided to be mean to him

bc who was giving him these weird heart attacks and tummy aches at the simple sight of you?

literally he ignored you for a good time yet now hes noticing you again?

what kinda unfairness-

but you proved to accept his previous behavior by not even giving him a single glance anymore

that made him sad so iwa would sometimes stop doing what hes doing so he could freely stare at you laugh at something a classmate said during class

thats totally not creepy iwa lol

he doesnt even know hes doing it sometimes bc hes so absorbed on trying to figure out the answers of his questions

but the worst was when he got caught

you sat at the very front and oikawa and iwa sat at the back 

it was lunchtime and you were eating with a few girls and a guy from another class and yall were laughing and talking together

iwa had oikawa and these other guys makki and matsukawa from the class next door to eat lunch with

can i please just dream that our third year seijoh boys were actually friends since the very beginning like pls and thanks

oikawa was rambling about how some girl giving him cookies the other day when he noticed iwa not listening but staring at you while moving his chopsticks around

poor iwa-chan was confused as to how even with messy hair, you still looked beautiful?

like no matter what angle or how you turned, the light always seemed to hit you perfectly to accent out your features

how was that possible?

‘-and she just-iwa-chan? iwaizumi?’

he called out and said boy jolted, eyes widening at the confused, bored, and knowing eyes

‘hm?’

‘oh? were you looking at y/n-chan?’

oikawa teased and the gojira fanboy waved his hands around to deny that statement

but makki chuckled and leaned in

‘hm, wouldnt blame ya. shes really pretty you know? some guy in our class saw the girls ranking and shes in the top 5′

okay iwa was angry

was it because everyone else noticed how pretty you are?

was it because you were part of this list?

was it because his own friend said you were pretty?

why did he even care anyways?!

oikawa smirked at the clenched fist under the table and decided to poke fun even more

‘oh really? well, it doesnt really matter because its always the girl’s decision right? but most of the time, their choice is utter trash’

the meme duo shared a confused look

‘hah? what are you going on about, oikawa’

oikawa internally apologized to you after what hes about to do because hes so tired and exhausted of having to be so careful and walking on eggshells between you two

so he did an oikawa move

‘yanno how y/n-chan and i have been friends since we were little ducklings right? so ages ago, like ages ago, little y/n-chan had a crush on this brute bc for some reason she thought he was brave or something and apparently thats appealing to girls rather than the nice and gentlemanly type. but of course, yanno how this goes, he pooped up and now hes stuck on doing this weird stalking staring thing. right, iwa-chan~?’

okay im sorry i take it back oikawa is a bitch

iwa shook

you,,, had a what on who?!

a crush on him?!

is he the brute?!

so it wasnt oikawa?

it was to him?

then why did you act like that?

why did you both act like that?

‘what’

iwaizumi mumbled and he met oikawa’s pointed gaze

‘hmm,,,, you dont have to worry about it anymore though since theyre not even friends anymore. but listen to me and listen well, makki, mattsun, if you hurt a girl even once, theyre never going to forget it. my sister said that apparently theres this little voice in their head that tells them that theyre going to get hurt again and thats where their trust issues begin to develop and--IWA-CHAN WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!’

iwa was already out of his seat and straight walking towards you and your group before stopping beside your chair

your friends quieted down at the sight of the known boy and you blinked then turned your head to see him, your eyes instantly turning dark and looking away immediately

‘what the hell do you want’

you hissed and natsu almost choked on his rice ball if it wasnt for another girl patting his back

‘it was me, right? all along, not oikawa, but me?’

his meek voice made you look up in confusion

‘what are you talking-’

‘you chose me instead him’

then it was like a click that you realized what he said

‘how did you know’

‘i-i’

he stuttered but was cut off when the teacher finally arrived to announce the end of lunch and iwa was forced to go back to his seat

the whole class time, you would sneak glances back and iwa would be staring at his paper while oikawa would wink at you and give you smirks

OH GOD HE TOLD HIM

after class you stomped up to the brunette haired boy 

‘how could you?! why did you tell-’

‘lets talk, y/n? please?’

iwa was holding your arm and you glared at him before turning away and walking away

oikawa patted him on the shoulder in good luck and whispered,

‘get your girl’

the rooftop ledge looked really delicious right now

no words were exchanged so you were both just silent with you staring at him while he was looking off to the side

‘so what? now you know and so what do you want?’

you spoke first and iwa guiltily met your eyes

‘everything was,,, a mess. i misunderstood and i didnt communicate and i,,, messed up’

he mumbled the last part but you caught it perfectly causing you to scoff

‘damn right you did. so now you know and then youre going to do the cliche thing they do in those dramas where you magically profess your love for me and-’

‘hey y/n lets date’

you froze and looked at him shocked with wide eyes and jaw dropped

‘excuse me? who are you to say that?!’

you shrieked

‘first you think i have some big crush on tooru and this caused you to basically drop me like a damn pencil and second youre asking me to date you? iwaizumi hajime i thought you were always the smarter one. what the hell are you spouting you damn imbecile-’

iwa did the only thing he thought of

he quickly leaned forward and pecked your lips

he saw some guy do it in a telenovela that his mom watched a week ago and that was how the girl got silent so iwa thought it would be smart to shut you up that way

and it worked

bc you were so conflicted: angry, confused, sad, happy

you was the whole range of emotions in one second

‘i was stupid. and i was dumb. i wanted to give you and shittykawa space because i thought he liked you and he would be mad and misunderstand if we continued hanging out without him. but you shouldve told me you liked me, baka. maybe i wouldve come to like you back’

iwa rambled but your eyes watered and you huffed, slapping him across the face but pulled his collar to kiss him again

tbh iwa was shook bc he got 2 kisses in a row today and hes never been kissed before and its from this really pretty girl

‘how dare you kiss me and still not like me’

you seethed when you pulled away

but iwa held your hands

‘im starting to come to. give me time and i’ll accept your confession’

and give him time you did bc you finally were able to try and mend that friendship again and soon, you were already starting to fall back in love with him 

but iwa also

during the end of your 2nd year, iwa nervously tugged you to the rooftop and you smirked

‘what? you gonna profess your love for me haji-kun?’

you teased and expected him to laugh and smack you gently but he didnt

he turned red and he looked down at his shoes as he magically produced a flower out of nowhere

‘please accept me, y/n!’

he shouted while holding out the single white carnation

your eyebrows scrunched and you grabbed the flower from his hands before punching him weakly

‘stupid! stupid haji-kun! i already accepted you! since we were five! how could you not see my feelings’

you whimpered, trying to hide the blush on your face but he smothered you to a hug, making you both topple over in the process

you had the cliched term of ‘summer love’

of course you still hung out with tooru but you both would hang out other days just you both

like you and iwa liked going over to some old playground by your house and you both would watch the sky on top of the slide assembly while talking about stupid stuff and the future

‘haji-kun, do you know what you want to be when youre old?’

you asked and he turned his head to look at you but you were focused on the stars

‘gojira’

he simply replied and you giggled, reaching over to hit his chest

‘baka. you cant be gojira-san’

iwa found himself giggling with you before he reached down to softly interwine your fingers and hold them up to look at them

‘hm, i dont really know. maybe a volleyball player. or someone in the volleyball team, i dont know’

you hummed, knowing him and tooru’s shared love for the sport

‘i wanna be a doctor. i want to save lives and help people and make money too! my mothers friend offered to intern me but apparently im still too young’

you pouted

iwa listened to you but then a lightbulb rang in his head

‘oi, y/n’

he started and you looked at him

‘you can be our manager. or medic. or doctor person. that bastard is going to push himself even harder because naoki-senpai gave him that damn position and he might kill himself trying to beat that farmer dude. besides, shittykawa is going to be the captain next year and i’ll be vice so youd easily get it anyways. so you in?’

you blinked at him before breaking out to a smile

‘eung! i wanna see my baby play what he loves!’

iwa’s face contorted to disgust

‘bABy?! iM nOt a BABY! im A mAn!! mAN!!’

‘mhm, okay. my mans, haji bara arms is my mans’

your relationship is very balanced with the perfect ratio of crackhead and seriousness and understanding bc as we ALL KNOW EVERYTHING STARTED W A MISUNDERSTANDING

like if he accidentally said something that hurt your feelings like that dress incident from years ago btw you brought it up to him and told him you were practically traumatized by that and he kept on apologizing and appearing at your doorstep with a white carnation in apology you would gently tell him bc communication is K E Y and he would tell you sorry and you guys would understand and make up

you guys were so lovey dovey that ltr oikawa would fake gag and throw up to the side when he catches you guys even doing things like holding hands

like bls he sees that flesh to flesh contact and he wretches his breakfast

‘ew, its the settling down for me’

‘its the flatness of the ass for me’

you stuck your tongue out while he pouted and iwa looked so proud like oml

you guys were still at the honeymoon phase where everything was peaches and rainbows and it continued until your 3rd year

as mentioned above, iwa basically gave you the managerial position

like yall were walking to school during the first day talking about how worried yall were at passing your classes when suddenly he was all like ‘ill see you in the gym later?’

you smiled and blinked confusingly

‘hm? you want a cheerleader there, baby?’

he flushed red at the nickname and furrowed his eyebrows

‘baka, stop calling me that’

you giggled and dodged his gentle smack but he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to his chest

‘i thought we already agreed that you would be our medic slash manager? i mean, it could give you experience for the future right?’

you rested your chin on his front to look up at him and your face held a teasing smirk

‘hmmm~~~ haji-kun just admit it. you want me to be there to cheer you on~’

you teased and nuzzled your cheek on him

iwa scoffed but he couldnt help a soft smile appearing

‘i mean-yea, but its for the future so ill help you every way i can’

‘oya? the future? will you marry me in the future, haji-kun?’

‘MARRY?! HOW DID YOU GET MARRY OUT OF THAT, BRAT’

‘AAWWWWW DONT BE SUCH A TSUNTSUN HAJI-KU-ACKDKJFSLKJNOT THE HAIR!!!’

sure enough you were at the gym after school

the coaches knew you werent a fangirl of oikawa bc hes seen you since the very beginning and oikawa clears you are actually a sister to him and you were fit for the job

ofc hes captain and someone as good as oikawa was going to get what he wants

the gym was full of newbies and recruits hoping to get into the powerhouse team and your eyes scanned to find those ridiculously pretty olive eyes that belonged to your beloved-

‘HAJI-KUN~~!!!’

you waved and shouted loudly, gaining his and everyone else’s attention as well

the underclassmen cooed and awed at you bc their senpai who was famous for being really pretty was in the building

‘waaaa its l/n-senpai’

‘shes so pretty’

‘oMG shes righT iN FroNT oF me!!’

yea you get the gist

the poor ‘haji-kun’ was shrinking under the attention and was growling at oikawa’s teasing look but he begrudgingly held his arms out for you to run into them and snuggle into him

‘hmmm i missed you, haji-kun. im really sad we’re in different classes this year. but then again! i can be here with you!’

you pouted and he ruffled your hair affectionately

‘why else do you think i offered it brat’

oikawa rolled his eyes and gagged before taking your arm to the coach so he could sort you out

‘honestly! not in front of the children, okay?!’

but everything was quickly resolved and you were finally officially their manager/medic

you did managerial duties and you were the go-to when someone falls harshly or gets hurt in any way

in between homework, school, reading medical books, and practice, you and iwa havent spent a lot of time together and tbh that was quite straining your relationship??

like it was something that you saw coming and you both even had a talk about it but you still feel like you didnt prepare enough when it did come

one day, it was monday and there was no practice so you and iwa were walking home together

he squeezed your hand occassionally and you would sing and hum while walking

and omg his heart would balloon up when you would smile up at him and giggle when you would catch him staring

he honestly thought youd both hang out and just lay on the couch, snuggle, yanno the routine

but once you pulled out your textbooks, notebooks, and pens, he was confused

like he even held your hands and stopped you from pulling anything else out

‘y/n? i thought we were,, watching a movie or something?’

you blinked and shook your head

‘i need to study for a test and i still need to memorize how to treat a sprain, haji-kun. there’s more important things to do right now. maybe later?’

more important things?!

more important than showering you with love?

more important than even spending a second with him?

now, dont get him wrong, iwaizumi hajime was by no means a clingy and possessive boyfriend

he understood the boundaries and he understood the priorities

but dear god its been WEEKS since he even hung out w you since your entire schedule seemed to throw him out of loop and acted as if he didnt exist

and now, he was aggrivated and irritated and he wanted nothing but to just cuddle his girlfriend

you noticed his huff and pout but he remained silent

you quirked an eyebrow and placed your pen down

‘haji? whats wrong?’

his eyes snapped to you and you knew now he was angry

‘oh? were you able to spare a few seconds for dear old me?’

you were taken aback and you knew there was a fight brewing so you hid your growing irritation and calmly put your things aside

‘hajime, what are you on about?’

you pried and he looked shocked, almost offended

‘what am i on about? what am i on about? y/n, do you know the last time i even came over? the last time i held you and just talked?’

his voice got louder by every word and you quickly stood up 

‘dont you dare raise your voice at me, hajime. if we have a problem, we talked over it calmly. we dont yell or shout, nothing gets resolved. we talked about this’

but he scoffed

‘talked? when was that? when did we actually just talk? hm? because I sure as hell dont remember it’

youve only seen hajime angry once and it was when you lied to him to go spend time with oikawa

okay in your defense, oikawa was having a panic attack and he begged you not to tell iwa because he didnt want to be scolded by iwa even though you kept telling him that iwa wasnt like that

and theres a reason as to why its only been a one-time thing because iwa was known to have patience that was as long as the damn nile river

except for oikawa bc it seems oikawa just cuts that patience by a million

and when he finally snaps, its when he couldnt take it anymore and he finally gets loose

when iwaizumi hajime was angry,  you really done it

you didnt really know how you handled that anger so you were at a loss and you were feeling conflicted and pained at the way he looked at you

‘h-hajime,,,’

you started and he looked at you expectantly

‘well? when did we last actually talk outside the school premises y/n?’

there was that inner witty voice of yours that wanted to say ‘right now?’ but you held it in bc he was completely serious

‘hajime, please understand. i-i dont want to let anyone down! my grades! the team! i-’

‘but what about me, y/n?’

he tiredly asked

‘do those things-those people- matter more than me? and i really really dont want to ask that but im so so confused y/n’

despite sounding manipulative, you knew iwa was feeling defeated and he couldnt help but ask those questions and sound so desperate

so you scrambled to sit next to him on the couch and held him against you

‘of course you matter to me-haji you mean everything to me, you understand? god, if an adult hears me theyd think im crazy but i love you, hajime. i love you and im so sorry if i ever made you feel that way because i really didnt mean to, okay? im so sorry’

you sobbed and he turned to fully envelop you into his arms and he sighed contently, remembering how good it felt to have you right there

‘no, im sorry, doll. i was being clingy and i didnt mean to lash out, i-’

you slightly let go and cupped his face

‘nonono you were perfectly valid. what you felt was perfectly reasonable. i havent been a good girlfriend lately, huh?’

you sadly smiled but he kissed you, holding you even closer

‘youre always a good one to me. always. just with a not good schedule but we can fix that, right?’

SORRY I REALLY DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE A FIGHTING SCENE BC ITS ANGSTY AND I DONT DO WELL WITH ANGST BC IT MAKES ME CRY 😭

tbh that was really your only big fight

even when you guys graduated middle school, you both were still quite happy and you both worked hard to make time for each other

HOWEVER

when high school arrived, you both had chosen an extremely hard decision

you chose to go to karasuno while oikawa and iwa went to seijoh

which was a,,,, hard and difficult decision

in fact, you both didnt have a fight per se, just a disagreement that ended in like 30 minutes lmao

tbh its so scary and concerning of how rarely you both have bad times and how quickly it gets resolved

BUT THEN AGAIN THIS IS AN ANGST REQUEST SO ILL OF COURSE BRING IN THE SADNESS

you were busy with karasuno and you were actually taking college courses since you wanted to have a good record if you ever wanted to get into a medical field

that meant you had a lot of homework and most of your time was spent with schoolwork or interning for that family friend mentioned earlier

and you were also a manager for the volleyball team bc karasuno is a butt and they require you to have an after school club

so that meant,,,

no time for iwa

and fate just so happens to hate you bc the days you did have off, he would be busy with volleyball and he wouldnt be able to spend time with you

even weekends were like that

eventually, you both went for 2 months with no contact, just a few text messages and calls

and that strained your former strong relationship

and you knew that iwa was getting angry again with how he even typed his responses

‘want me to bring over snacks for the team?’

‘its okay. wouldnt want you to waste time or anything’

like that type of bull

you were getting increasingly worried because you havent had a good proper time to talk to him about it and you didnt want to fight over the phone

your best friend, kiyoko, noticed your anxious ticks and she snapped you out of your current daydream

‘hey? y/n? you okay?’

she gently asked and you blinked before nodding

‘mhm. just,,, thinking’

but she didnt buy that lie because you went back to chewing your lips and eyes even watering

‘i can revise your notes for you, y/n. and the team isnt doing anything big so i can handle it. you just go see him after school bc i cant handle you being sad anymore’

kiyoko gently smiled and you almost cried bc finally! you were able to clear your schedule enough to go visit your boyfriend

at the end of the school day, you bolted out of there and you were running and huffing all the way to seijoh bc you really wanted to talk to him as soon as possible

the gym was clear in view and you smiled, looking forward to seeing your beloved boy, when you saw him and oikawa being surrounded by girls

now keep in mind, youve suffered through middle school with oikawa and you were his best friend and has known him since you were a toddler

so you know of his looks and the attraction it brought him from all the females

so that didnt really bother you 

but what bothered you was the horde of girls that stuck on to your boyfriend and he didnt even look bothered

just,,, blank

not even pushing away or feeding into their actions

just,,, standing there

‘haji?’

you called out and as if he had a built-in sensor for you, his ears twitched and he swiveled to look at you

‘y/n’

he breathed out and you smiled gently

iwa quickly moved away from the girls and he grabbed your hand so you both could go somewhere else to talk privately

the back of the gym was quiet and you leaned against the wall, iwa joining you shortly

‘how-how are you?’

you asked and he scoffed, totally surprising you

‘is this how we are y/n? asking each other questions as if we’re friends who are meeting for the first time in a while? wait--actually we are arent we?’

you grimaced and looked to the side, knowing he starts his stages of anger with being passive aggressive

‘haji,, please understand’

you pleaded and swiveled to stand in front of him

iwa didnt meet your eyes, instead shoving his hands in his pants pockets and eyes trained to his shoes as he kicked rocks

‘y/n, ive been trying,, for months ive been understanding. please dont ask me to understand anymore’

he snipped and you sniffed

‘im doing this because-because my grades are starting to matter! my future is resting on these years! i have to-’

‘dont you think i know that?!’

he cut you off harshly

your eyes were shaking at his attempt to calm himself down and his trembling hands

‘dont you think i know that you are doing this for that? because ive known you since i was five y/n and i know you would push everything-everyone- else aside to reach a damn goal of yours. no matter the cost, as long as you get it, right? well youve always been like that and somehow i still accepted that yet years later here we are’

iwa waved his arms around to accentuate his point and hurt was bubbling inside your chest at a subtle jab at your flaw

‘well im sorry mr. volleyball ace player! im not talented in any area so i have to depend on my studies to get me a future! so fck me for trying to survive and create a life for us!’

‘us?! how is this for us?! y/n we cant even last a single year being apart and youre already thinking ahead of the future?!’

‘im doing this for you! for us! just wait hajime! we will be happy-’

‘I DONT CARE IF ITS FOR THE FCKING FUTURE! I WANT TO BE HAPPY WITH YOU RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! AND WHY DOES THE FCKING FUTURE MATTER SO DAMN MUCH WHEN WE CANT EVEN-’

‘BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO BE WITH YOU!’

you shrieked

‘HOW CAN YOU LOVE ME IF YOURE NOT LOVING ME?!’

he huffed and harshly wiped away tears that fell

your lips trembled, hands shakingly reaching out to grasp his arms

‘ha-hajime,, don-’

‘should we break up?’

was he asking you this right now? 

seriously?

‘what?’

you whispered and he finally looked up to let you see his pained eyes

‘y/n do you know what day it was yesterday?’

he asked and you blinked, looking everywhere as you tried to remember any important events

‘t-tuesday?’

that seemed to snap his patience 

with an angry grunt, he turned to punch the wall and crouch to hide his face in his hands

‘damn it, y/n’

he whimpered and your heart broke as you could hear his cries

then it clicked

anniversary

it was your 2nd anniversary

and you completely missed it

completely forgotten

you shrunk back and let out a cry before placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries

‘ha-haji-’

you sniffled and you tried to go closer to him but he wiped his eyes and stood back up

‘y/n lets break up’

iwa requested with a cracked smile

your eyes widened and you ran to his chest, wrapping your arms around him as if you let go, he would disappear

‘haji, we can talk about this! we cant-please dont do this-i can fix this-’

‘we will only hurt ourselves even more if we continue this. i dont want us to hurt anymore y/n. so please, for once, listen to me’

your heart shattering cries filled your space and he didnt think it was this hard until he finally said it

it was a decision that he has been hanging around for a while and even consulted oikawa about it

‘iwa-chan, if you love y/n so much, its best to let her go. dont make you both suffer anymore’

‘i cant-hajime youre it for me-please dont leave-’

you hiccuped and continued to sob

but iwa remained a pillar and squeezed you tightly against him

‘darling i believe we were meant to be. but we just did it all wrong. when the time is right, lets start over again’

he whispered, finally breaking down with you in his arms

-------

iwaizumi hajime became a taboo word for you

even with oikawa, he swore and vowed to never say either of your names and made sure that you would not be around the area when iwa would come over

like even when he knew iwa would just stay inside, he would be constantly on the lookout to make sure you both didnt see each other

the last time was when you both saw each other in the morning as you exited your house to walk to school

it must’ve been a few months after the breakup and even oikawa felt the raw pain hovering in the air

it was suffocating and oikawa had to motion you to walk because if you both stayed even a second, someone-or both- would start crying

you continued like that for years until you reached your third year

you continued being part of the volleyball team as the medic while kiyoko was the manager

the new recruits were causing up a storm and you were particularly fond of your kita kouhai kageyama tobio

‘kageyama? kageyama tobio?’

you asked once you caught sight of the familiar looking blueberry

he looked up and recognized you as his former manager

‘l/n-senpai!’

he shouted and you ran up to give the boy a hug

‘gosh! youre so tall now! i remembered when you were wee tall!’

you teased and ruffled his hair

‘uh-you know him, y/n?’

suga asked and you nodded

‘eung! we went to the same middle school and i was a manager there’

‘she was friends with iwa-’

ope

something flashed in your eyes 

kiyoko knew that name bc of how you were so depressed about it for 2 years and she started shouting random nonsense, scaring the 2nd and first years

‘y/n! we got new medical tape!’

she sang out and you perked up

‘finally?! we dont have to use duct tape anymore?!’

you excitedly ran over and everyone was both shook that kiyoko was loud and two, you were actually excited over medical tape

kageyama shrugged and continued on training

he kinda figured something happened so he never said anything or asked you anything in fear of upsetting you

and when it was announced that you were going to a practice match with seijoh, kiyoko actually told you she would cover it to make sure you dont see him there

‘its fine, y/n, i got you’

but ofc, you couldnt skip inter high

ltr an event when anyone in the team could get injured so you forced yourself to just ignore it and go

you did a good job of hiding whenever he was in view until the time they actually faced each other

you were walking alongside kiyoko and settling some things down at the bench when you felt his stare

you grimaced at his intense stare and the entire team mistakenly took it as him being interested in you

‘HAH?! LOOK AWAY YOU BEANSPROUT!’

noya growled

‘YEA! DONT LOOK!’

ofc hinata echoed

the 3 seijoh third years exchanged looks of unease when iwa sighed and looked away

‘oi! dont do that, boke!’

kageyama chided and hit the orange boy with a water bottle at the head

hinata whined and glared at him

‘that porcupine was looking at l/n-senpai! he wants to steal her!’

‘boke-’

‘doesnt matter anyways. we broke up ages ago’

you tried to say it jokingly but they couldnt miss the crack in your voice

‘hah?! he broke up with you?! you?! goddess l/n-san?!’

tanaka raged and noya had his own face of shock

the famous seijoh ace dated you?!

this handsome bara arms muscle buff man had the priviledge to date you and yet broke up with you?!

‘yall didnt know that?’

kageyama questioned and everyone glared at him

‘how do you know’

‘i just did. i didnt want to say anything for this same reason that you guys didnt know and she wouldnt want her business out there’

he simply replied and continued filing his nails

you looked up and smiled

‘it doesnt matter anymore. it was years ago so its fine’

‘L/N-SAN WE WILL AVENGE YOU!’

‘WE WILL! WE WILL!!’

the three stooges swore and you smiled softly, ruffling each boy’s hair

‘then go out there and make me proud’

but we know how this goes

they lost and you were so devastated for the others and you dropped your bag to go and comfort a crying hinata

‘sshh, dont cry dont cry. im right here’

you cooed and he accepted your embrace, hugging you tightly

once he finally calmed down, you were able to get him to a good enough condition to walk to the bus to go home

you went back to get your bag when you found something on top of it

a single white carnation

and a small ripped piece of paper that said,

‘my name is iwaizumi hajime. i think youre really pretty’

a/n: iknowiknowiknow i died but im not back to life and this request was lowkey difficult and i dont think i did a good job w it because angst always gets too angsty for me but i couldnt resist giving this a sad ending like bls!!! and uwu im still working on that oikawa route bc ya girl cant decide how angsty she wants it to beeee and i have like 4 different versions of the route in my drafts hehehe,,,, but i hope yall liked this and uwu ive never been in a serious relationship before so i wouldnt know what to fight about and came up with this:(

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[parvulous-writings]

Medbay magic // Angela Ziegler (Mercy) x Reader

Request:    Ello, It's me,Ya bor. So I wanted to request a lil' something- Can we get a one shot where Angela (Mercy, for those of yall that don't know (: )nurses the reader back to health, but ends up falling for the reader with all the time they spend together? Then she's super confused about her feelings and doesn't know what to do about it, and she's too scared to tell the reader, but... turns out the reader has always kinda liked Angela too, and they confess to Angela-And they all live happily ever after- 😭🤌No but fr ily bor ❤

Requested by: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker​​

Summary: The reader and Doctor Ziegler develop feelings for each other :)

Warnings: N/A

Words: 1.3K

Notes: I would like to thank one of my old classmates for the word soup conversation :) My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

You had been in the medical bay for nearly a week now. It wasn’t so bad, you supposed, you were being looked after well enough. You were frequently seen by several different doctors, one whom you greatly preferred over the others. Your favourite doctor was none other than Angela Ziegler, the best medic on the force. This wasn’t just your opinion either, this was just a common fact that everyone accepted. Under her care you had been nursed back from near death to almost perfect health. You swore on your own life that she was magic, it was like nothing you had ever seen. That wasn’t the only magic she used though, you were sure of it. She had managed to work her way into your heart as well, and you held her higher than any other. 

During your time in the medbay, you had several deep conversations with Angela, when there wasn’t all that much for her to do, and she needed something to keep her mind busy. Most of the time they started as nonsense words that she would respond to fondly- word soup, she dubbed it. It was mostly obscure facts or some line of thought that didn’t make much sense.  Angela’s personal favourite conversation was one from when you were half sedated due to the pain of your wounds, and you started spouting drivel about Sciron- an old figure in Greek mythology, who would ask passers by to help him was his feet.  When they knelt before him, he would suddenly give them a kick over the cliff into the sea, where the victim's body was devoured by a huge monstrous sea turtle which used to swim under the rocks. How you remembered about such an obscure figure in common knowledge Ziegler didn’t know, but your words were even stranger.  “What if the turtle was Sciron’s brother?” You posed, staring up at the ceiling as Angela patted down your bed, making sure you were comfortable. She laughed quietly at the absurd idea and shook her head slowly.  “As interesting as the theory is, I do not think that that is what the Greeks were striving for when telling that tale...”  “But why else would he feed the turtle, well, people?”  “I do not know- but there are many instances of strange stories such as this, yes?”  “I s’pose so..” You mumbled, pursing your lips in thought. “But like it could be his half brother, right? Cause that would explain-”  “Quiet down now, you need rest, not stress over fiction turtles and the men who feed them.” 

Why was this Angela’s most fondly remembered conversation? Purely because of it’s ridiculousness. It wasn’t often that such strange topics popped up; no matter what Captain Amari would have had people believe.  Plus you didn’t remember it, and thus she could use it to entertain you in future.

Soon enough, Angela was conflicted as she walked to deliver you the news of your discharge from the medical bay. She was happy for you; she understood how frustrating it can be to be cooped up in one place for any prolonged amount of time. But she was almost... Melancholy, beneath that joy. With you leaving the medbay, she was unsure when she’d get to see you properly next. She didn’t get much free time when off the field or out of the medbay. Most of that free time was spent taking care of herself and her mental health, and was often only late at night. She wanted to spend more time with you so badly, that it made her heart practically ache from the thought of not seeing you for an extended amount of time. She had become enamoured with you, as unprofessional as that was.  As she approached your bed, clipboard in hand, she took a deep breath. She forced a wide smile onto her angelic features, and cleared her throat to capture your attention when she got close enough.  “Any news, Doc?” You ask with a small smile, to which she nods.  “Yes, actually. You’ve finally been deemed fit to leave the med bay.” At this information you looked rather happy, and Angela couldn’t fault you for such a feeling. 

As you started to sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed, Ziegler also moved round to offer you some help should you require it. Your legs are a little weak after staying in bed for so long, so you are a little wobbly  when you first get to your feet, but you don’t fall over, which is a very good sign in Angela’s eyes. “Thank you, Angela...” You smile at her, referring to everything she had done for you during your time in the medical ward.  “Bitte.” She replied, quite curtly. “Before you go, actually, there’s a couple of things I’d like to talk to you about...” Your brows furrow as she keeps talking.  “Is... Is something wrong?”  “No, no, not at all.” Angela assured you, understanding why you may be anxious about her words- usually when doctors or medical practitioners say something like that it’s never really good. “Far from it, actually.” This put your mind partially at ease, but not by much. She tried to give you what was an encouraging smile, but all it really managed to do was set your heart a-fluttering. Angela cleared her throat quietly.  “So- it may seem a little bit out of the blue for me to say something like this, I am well aware.” She started, trying to keep herself calm as she started to open up a little bit. “During your time under my care, I have... Grown rather fond of you; attached even.” With every word that passed her lips, you found yourself more and more awestruck. You silence seemed to unnerve Ziegler, causing her nerves to skyrocket. She remained outwardly calm, though. She didn’t know what to add to what she had said to improve it or make it less awkward, so she just stood there, tapping her fingers anxiously against the others. 

“Really?” Is all you can think to ask, your voice laced with an incredulous wonder that sounded closely akin to adoration. You would have asked if she were joking, but you knew very well that Angela wouldn’t joke about something like this. “I...” You trailed off, trying to think of how to phrase your next sentence adequately. “I’m rather fond of you too.” You settled to using her own words to describe your feelings. The look on Angela’s face told you that she probably didn’t think she’d get this far. “Oh...” She seemed at loss for words. 

You both stood their for a moment, trying to think of what to say to each other in light of these revelations. After about a minute or so, you broke the silence. “So.. Would you want to get a coffee, or tea sometime?” Your words seemed to break Angela out of a daze, and she gave you a rather large smile.  “Ah, yes, that would be lovely... Tea, and maybe some chocolates? I can bring some Swiss chocolate... It’s the best.” She told you with a quiet chuckle, and you nodded eagerly.  “That sounds good to me... What about time- when are you free?”  Angela had to think for a moment, “I’m off shift next Thursday.. What about five o’clock?” She asks, and you nod happily. “Wonderful!” She chuckled. “I shall see you then... I think you should get going before Morrison starts complaining that I’m keeping you back unnecessarily... I do believe he wishes to see you.” She informed, the fondness starting to show through in her voice.  You nod in gratitude.  “Thanks, Angela... Could I call you Angie, now?” You asked, rather cheekily. Angela rolled her eyes a little bit at the question.  “We’ll see. Now get going.” She hit your shoulder playfully, before moving away to fill in the paperwork about you being discharged. She gave you a final wave, and blew you a kiss as you walked out. 

[astrozones]

Gay Eyes - Prinxiety

@idkwhyimhere0o0 , @slitherynchiken bc yall wanted to see this uwu

Original Post here!

Summary: "Gay eyes" was a stupid concept. Virgil could hardly believe his ears when Roman suggested it earlier that day- when they were trying to pursue Nico. And of course, it didn't work. Because it was stupid. Idiotic. So why couldn't he stop thinking about it- or the boy who had suggested it?

Discord: Astro’s Zone

Ship: Prinxiety

Read on AO3

Spoiler warning for Flirting With Social Anxiety!! 

Gay eyes, right?

 That’s what he called them?

 It was stupid. A stupid name, a stupid concept, a stupid- ugh, everything!

 So why couldn’t he stop thinking about it-!

 Virgil groaned, turning himself around so he could shove his face onto the pillow. Ughhhhhhhh. 

 Maybe it was because Roman looked so damn pretty doing it and- nope! Not going down that train of thought. At least, not for the fifth time tonight.

 ‘Gay eyes’. Ugh. Something about that was familiar. Did someone do them to Thomas? No, no, he would’ve heard Roman prattling on about it in a lovestruck monologue if someone did. That much was certain.

 Ah- maybe- well, Thomas had to have done it sometime, right? He seemed so familiar with the concept. That must be why he was understood it. It was the only logical reason, at least. Heh, maybe Logan would be proud of him for coming up with an understandable conclusion.

 But- that wasn’t it, was it? Something in his nonexistent heart told him so. And while he made a point to not listen to his heart- it could get them in so many dangerous situations, after all- he spent a few more minutes thinking about it. Just in case.

 He couldn’t think of anything else though. No matter how many paths he went through, nothing made sense, except for if another Side had done them while he was watching or something and-!

 Oh.

 Oh.

 God, he remembered it- about 3 weeks ago, Roman was acting weird. And not his normal type of fantastical-focused weirdness either. He hadn’t thought much of it- that was a lie, he spent too much time thinking about it- but Roman kept looking over at Virgil, both of them sitting at opposite ends of the couch.

 When Virgil finally chanced looking over and meeting his eyes, Roman simply raised an eyebrow at him. A second later, he switched his expression to an innocent one, looking away, and back, where he lifted his eyebrow again with a smirk.

 What the fuck, he had thought. Huh? Ugh- whatever. Ro’ was just messing around. Virgil let out a scoff, lightly pushing Roman with a small laugh as he stood up and walked to the kitchen- Patton was starting to look longingly at the stove again, and Virgil decided he would supervise. They didn’t want a repeat of last time.

 Looking back on it, though… Was Roman… flirting with him? With Virgil? None of the others had been in the room, except for Patton, who was on the opposite side. So it must have been Virgil.

 But- why?

 Why Virgil? Was he pranking him? No, Roman wouldn’t do that, he was too serious about romance.

 That meant… that he was serious. That he was trying to flirt… with Virgil.

 The chances of Roman pranking him seemed far higher than the chances of Roman actually liking Virgil back, but- well, all the signs said he was genuine.

 Wait.

 Oh God.

 If he was flirting with him, that means- that means that Virgil just brushed off his flirting without a second thought. That he- did he accidentally reject Roman? Shit, shit, shitshitshit- FUCK! He must hate Virgil now and his chances were ruined and he’d be single forever and-

 Breathe. He- he had to breathe.

 In, out.

 Okay. Okay, he just had to think about it logically. Logically, Roman’s feelings for him wouldn’t go away just because Virgil rejected him (he rejected him! FUCK! FUCK!). Logically, he still had a chance.

 But what if he didn’t- what if Roman already convinced himself out of it, or what if he realized he wasn’t that interested after all and now he’s grateful I didn’t understand, or what if he- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

 Okay- okay- he just… he had to make a plan to tell Roman. Easy. Yeah, that was a good idea.

 --

 This was a horrible idea. By far the worst of his ideas. Why was he doing this idea?!?

 Well, he supposed, this is why I’m not Creativity.

 He sat down on the couch, opposite of Roman. Step one, done.

 Roman glanced up at him, flashing a radiant smile before turning back to his book- something fantasy related, most likely. Fuck I’m gay.

 Could anyone blame him, though? Roman was just so pretty! Kind, too, he just wanted the best for everyone. He had a pretty straightforward set of right and wrong, but he was learning, and trying his best to make things right. Fuck, he was so passionate too. Virgil could sit there listening for hours as he ranted on about all his new ideas. He wanted to do that, he wanted to be there for Roman, to trust him enough to share thoughts he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

 Oh shit, he had been staring at him for too long. Roman was looking at him with concern and curiosity. Enact step two, enact step two!

 Quickly, before he had a chance to feel scared about it- he let an eyebrow rise up, silently staring at Roman with a smile. He let the expression fall, looking away, then looking back, before switching back with a smirk.

 Fuck, Roman just looked confused. What were the steps again? What did he miss?!? I knew this was a bad idea-

 Roman softly gasped. Virgil’s gaze shot to him as a brilliantly bright blush adorned Roman’s face.

 Good reaction?

 “Was that- did you-?” Roman giggled, quickly covering his head with his hands.

 This is good-? No! No, this is bad! A bad reaction! You fucked up Virgil, ABORT, ABORT-

 “Roman, Virgil! It’s time to eat breakfast!” Patton called from the dining room. Shit. Now he couldn’t run away.

 --

 Roman kept trying to catch his gaze while they were eating. He saw it in the corner of his eye. But Virgil’s gaze stayed diligently on his food, eating quickly so he could run get away faster.

 “I’m going to my room- BYE!” he rushed out, disposing of the dishes before sprinting back to his room. He didn’t want to see the pitying glance Roman sent him.

 He face-planted straight onto his bed. He felt like crying, and he desperately fought back the tears that would tell everyone just what he was feeling.

 Fuck, why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut. Or, rather, repressed his feelings and lived with the fact that Roman would never like him back? Of course Roman wouldn’t feel the same- why would he? When Virgil was so much worse than him? 

 Fuck.

 He froze as a knock sounded at the door.

 Fucking shit- this was Roman coming to officially reject him, wasn’t it. Shit, not right now! Not when he was still processing it! He was gonna burst into tears!

 Biting his lip, he slowly made his way over to the door, opening it ever so cautiously.

 There stood Roman, bouncing on his heels with a grin. Virgil frowned, why is he so ecstatic about rejecting me? I thought he considered me a friend now…

 Roman opened his mouth to speak. Deny it! Deny it!

 “It was a joke.” Virgil blurted out. Roman’s stopped in place, staring at him.

 “What?” 

 “I didn’t mean it. Me doing the whole ‘gay eyes’ thing? It was a joke.” he murmured, fiddling with his sleeves. Roman made a strained noise.

 “I- um- I see. That, uh, that makes sense. Thanks for clarifying, Virgil. If you’ll excuse me, I really must be going now. Ideas to explore, and all. Toodle-oo!”

 And with that, Roman left.

 --

 “Of course it was too good to be true,” Roman moaned, falling back onto his thousands of pillows strewn over the floor. His body shook as he tried to hold back sobs.

 He had been trying to show hints to Virgil for ages, y’know. Roman was brave, but not brave enough to say it outright. He’d hoped- well, he’d hoped that after he showed a few hints, maybe, just maybe, Virgil would show some signs back. Just enough that Roman could be sure that his feelings were returned. 

 And he thought… that this was it. That Virgil’s sudden understanding of ‘gay eyes’ was the sign that he was looking for! 

 He always knew his endless optimism would come to bite him some day.

 “FUCK!” he shouted to no one. Thankfully he had soundproofed his room ages ago, after enough noise complaints from Logan about his singing. He wiped his tears away, scoffing as new ones just took their place.

 He should have known Virgil was too perfect for him.

 With his endearingly sarcastic attitude, his wonderfully precious giggles, and of course his smile- it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen for him sooner.

 He silently cursed his past self. Why couldn’t he have just let it go and accepted him into the group? Maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place- maybe Virgil would be able to like him romantically. 

 God, what he would give to be able to cuddle with Virgil… to hug him, to hold hands, maybe even kiss him…

 But he couldn’t.

 Because Virgil had rejected him.

 --

 Dumbass, Virgil’s brain told him. He huffed. What, he asked, am I not suffering enough already?

 His mind didn’t respond. Virgil groaned. This usually meant that he had to actually figure something out instead of just wallowing in his sorrow.

 Rude.

 He rubbed at his eyes, debating whether he should actually follow directions and think over things.

 Nah, he decided, switching onto his side as he elected to just sleep and forget about today.

 He likes you back!

 Psh, yeah right. The only way Roman could like him back is if he had been coming over to confirm his feelings or some shit. That was impossible.

 …

 Wait, he thought, sitting up. Wait. Maybe I am a dumbass.

 Because the more he thought about it, the more it became apparent that it actually wasn’t impossible. In fact, it might just be… plausible. 

 Holy shit.

 He stood up, frantically searching for his hoodie. He had to tell Roman, he had to. Before it was too late.

 Picking it up, he hurried over to the mirror. Fuck, he looked like a disaster. Hair askew, makeup nonexistent, eyes wide in panic. At least he hadn’t cried- crying, Virgil, he could be crying. Go, hurry!

 Whipping open the door, he hurried down the hallway. Passing Patton in the kitchen, he gave him a nod as he ran.

 “What are you doing up?” Patton asked, a cup of water in his hand. “You should be going to sleep.”

 “Can’t-” Virgil huffed out, stopping for only a few seconds. “I have to go- gotta- clear something up.”

 He left before Patton could come up with a response.

 --

 “Roman,” he whisper-shouted, frantically knocking on the door. “Roman!”

 The door opened, revealing a tired Roman. Virgil noticed with a pain in his chest that his eyes were red from crying.

 “What?”

 “I meant it,” he rushed out. “I meant it- the whole ‘gay eyes’ thing. As stupid as it is, I meant it.” Roman’s eyes widened.

 “I did- but I thought you were gonna reject me- so I said it was a joke and I know, I know, I’m so, so stupid, but say you like me back and I might just kiss you.”

 For seconds that felt like eons, Roman stayed silent.

 “Oh God, please do. I like you back, I have for a long time actua- mmf-!”

 Before he was even done talking, Virgil had grabbed the collar of his pyjamas- a red t-shirt, with a crown placed in the center because this boy just cannot stop getting more adorable- and pulled him forward.

 Their lips met, and Virgil’s heart melted. He moved his hands to caress Roman’s face. He felt warm- content, even, which couldn’t be true because he was Anxiety and Anxiety never felt content without a thousand other thoughts harassing him- but he was free from negative feelings, head empty as all he processed was Roman’s lips on his and that he was feeling loved.

 He slowly separated from the boy, gasping for air and fighting the urge to dive back in and kiss him again- because holy fuck he had kissed Roman!

 “I thought- I thought you didn’t like me back.” Roman whispered, voice cracking in the middle. Virgil shook his head vehemently. 

 “I- fuck no, Ro’, that’s impossible. I- fuck- you’re great, Ro’, I adore you.” 

 Roman broke out into a grin, leaning his forehead against Virgil’s.

“I adore you, too.”

[doomednarrative]

On the topic of listening to "Marsha, Thank You for the Dialectics" one too many times, and the idea that you might be identifying too much with your trauma and mental illness:

----

If you've followed me for any length of time on this blog, you'll probably be aware of two things about me:

A. I'm clearly mentally ill in some regard, and B. I use music to cope and work thru the issues related to my mental illness and trauma a lot.

The past four years have been both the worst and best years of my life. I ran away from an abusive home, I've gone thru two major breakups and one of them just absolutely rocked my shit for awhile, I've been consistently working thru my queer identity and figuring all of that out for myself, and the list goes on.

Finally leaving an environment that had trapped me in a cycle of traumatic experiences for years left me in a weird place. For once I was somewhere where my illness and suffering was being taken seriously and not constantly belittled and ignored, and my queerness was accepted and respected. And that felt great!

What Wasnt so great about that was the Overwhelming feelings of "oh my god I've been suffering for so long and now that i'm out of that place, I cant stop thinking about it and realizing how much its truely fucked me up and worsened my mental health" that came with everything else.

And with that overwhelm, somewhere along the line I started to identify with that suffering. I had spent so long in a place that refused to acknowledge that I was hurting at all, that now that I was in a place where I could truely express that hurt and how it affected me, I didnt want to let go of it.

This was a cycle that went on for awhile, and one that I didn't really realize I was trapped in until about March this year.

Enter Will Wood and his wonderful music.

I'd heard of him months before, already had Dr. Sunshine and Hand Me My Shovel in my spotify library. But I didn't really give him a Proper listen until Miles suggested I do so, and I fell in love almost immediately with his stuff. Underneath his music just being fun and wild to listen to, Will's music talks so openly and genuinely about deeper themes of personal identity and mortality and the current culture we live in, and so many other important things.

"Marsha, Thank You for the Dialectics" is a song about both sides of the mental health discussion and about the struggle of how everyone deals with their own personal identity in relation to their mental health treatment. Its a song that once I heard what it was really saying, it slapped me in the fucking face to say the least. I havent heard someone describe the things this song is trying to say in a way that actually made sense and summed up my feelings on the discussion so nicely ever honestly. The things Will addresses in this song are important, and its all stuff I've personally pondered on for awhile too.

Some lyrics that really stuck out to me would be these two:

"Who makes the call, whats a symptom whats a flaw, can it be both? Well I suppose thats an answer."

"Ain't your identity at stake? Does aspirin kill you with the pain?"

What a complex question, isnt it? Does treatment kill your identity, change who you are as a person? Is that a bad thing? Whats really a symptom of the mental illness and what makes it that? Do those symptoms also count as personal flaws?

What do you do when you identify too much with your illness that you feel you can't get treatment for it?

That was the real question I got stuck on for myself. Because after a lot of deeper reflection on my own behavior and thoughts towards my illness and trauma, I made a discovery I hadn't known before really thinking about what this song was saying:

I found that I was scared to be treated. I was scared of finding an identity outside of my illness. I had become so accustomed to defining a part of myself by my suffering, that i became afraid of what or who I could become without it constantly weighing me down. And thats a very heavy thing to realize about yourself, but it was a very eye opening thought for me to have.

And I dunno how much longer itd have taken me to figure out if it wasnt for this song tbh. Its just not something I wanted to think about for awhile. I became content with identifying myself by my illness, and I was resistant to seeking out treatment for fear that I wouldnt like who I'd become if I tried to treat it.

Thankfully, this is something I've been working thru more recently after having that revelation.

I don't really have some grand statement to make at the end of this. I'm really just here journalling and writing down how I feel about all of this stuff recently. But, I do think theres something to be said about how art and music can really affect people. Hell knows I've had quite a few good mental revelations about myself since listening to Wills music more recently. Its been helpful honestly.

If you take anything away from this tho, maybe it should be that its not a bad thing to examine just how much you define yourself by your illness and trauma sometimes. You might find that you're in a little too deep sometimes and want to pull yourself out.

You're more than what your illness is. And treatment for it isn't a bad thing either. I may just be learning this for myself, but I do think its true.

Just something for yall to ponder for now I suppose.

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 6

@daminette-december2019-2020

Oh what’s this? Two chapters in a row from Marinette’s pov? Sorry just couldn’t help myself, like I just had to man

Hope yall enjoy it~

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 6 – Comfort

Previous

Next

Marinette didn’t sleep that night.

Sure, negotiations had gone wonderfully and she, Cass and Steph had spent the afternoon discussing everything from fighting stances to Stephanie’s potential wedding dress. They hung out with Ivy again and went to the beach to pick up shells.

Most of the day's activities were Stephanie’s ideas but Cass and Marinette also enjoyed them. Now and then Jason and Dick would join them or Cass would go to do something or another, but Steph was practically attached to Marinette’s hip. She smiled, Alya and Chloe would be jealous.

She had fun, but when night fell and everyone had retired to their bedrooms, there was nothing to distract her from the memories.

His smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he was up to good mocked her whenever she closed her eyes. Reminding her that she’d never see them again.

When the birds started singing she’d given up trying to sleep. Marinette stood and for the last time she put on one of her black dresses. She put her hair in a single braid down her back and put on a practical pair of boots with it.

She stared at the silver necklace he gave her a month after they met. She hadn’t worn it since her week in isolation after he died. She'd kept it with her whenever she travelled but she’d never had the strength to wear it again.

She picked it up. On the silver chain hung an oval shaped emerald.

To remind you of me when I’m not with you, Bugaboo.

With shaking hands she tied it around her neck. It felt right to wear it this one last time.

She took a deep breath, she needed to be alone today, being around other people wasn’t something she had the energy for.

She eyed Tikki, still asleep on one of the many pillows on the bed. She loved her kwami dearly, but... she wasn’t in the mood for company.

She stood and walked over to where her writing supplies lie on the table. She quickly wrote a note for Tikki asking her to tell anyone who came looking for her that she was safe and that she’d be back by nightfall.

Satisfied, she grabbed her coat and her knife in its scabbard and made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She didn’t want to eat, but she needed the energy if she was going to be out all day.

When she got there the staff were busy preparing the meals of the day, the smells made her stomach rumble.

She didn’t really know who to approach or what to do but before she could worry about it too much a middle aged man with red hair approached her, he wore an apron and gave her a slight smile, “You the Guardian?”

“Yes, that would be me,” she answered, before she could figure out how to ask for a basket of food or something similar he chuckled lightly.

“Your Majesty, Alfred said you might show up, he asked me to give you this and to tell you Bluebell is saddled up for you in the stables. He also said that George left a saddle bag in her stable for you,” he turned around and picked up a basket and a thick looking basket, handing them to her.

She stared at the objects in surprise, “How did he...?” she started, not even knowing how to phrase the question.

He seemed to know what she meant, though, and just shrugged, “He just does that sometimes. We’ve learned not to question it,” amusement shinning in his eyes, he continued, “But if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to work,”

“Please, don’t let me stop you and uh... thank you,” she said lifting the basket slightly.

She turned out of the kitchen and a small wave of homesickness surprised her. Nathaniel also always knew what you needed before you did, helpfully supplying it before you could even phrase the question.

It was an ability all of Duusu's holders had, knowing how to take care of people and enjoying the act of doing so.

She made her way to the stables as the first rays of dawn started lighting the sky. Small rocks and sticks crunched between her boots and the cobblestone.

The fresh, chilly morning air motivated her to don her coat. When she got to the barn she saw a young dapple grey horse saddled up in her stable. The name on the door said ‘Bluebell’.

“Hey girl,” Marinette held her hand out and petted her. She opened the door and attached the saddle bag to the saddle, putting the blanket in it. She tied the medium sized basket to Bluebell’s back the way she’d been taught since it distributed the weight best.

She lead her out and once they were outside she climbed onto her back. She lightly kicked Bluebell’s sides and made her way to the forest.

She followed the well trodden path through it for an hour, while the sun slowly rose over their heads. Eventually, they reached a beautiful meadow. The path continued on, but Marinette was hungry and wanted to stop and eat.

A river ran through the clearing. The woods stretched out the other side of it. In the distance she could see the range of mountains they’d passed on their journey to Gotham.

She took out the blanket and spread it out. Then she removed and opened the basket. Inside she found all her favorite foods, as well as a bundle that contained apples, carrots and sugar cubes for Bluebell.

She allowed the horse to roam free, but she never wandered far. Marinette ate a few grapes, a small bun of bread and a few bites of cheese.

She gave Bluebell an apple and a sugar cube. The rest she rewrapped in the cloths she got them in. She removed the charcoal and parchment in the basket that Alfred had added for her to sketch with. It was a nice surprise; she wouldn’t have thought of including it.

She wasn’t sure when she started talking to Bluebell but eventually she found herself telling the horse everything, from the moment she met him to her initial thoughts. She told her about things she hadn’t thought of in ages.

She told her about how his favorite color was blue and his favorite season winter. She told her about how hard he'd tried to hide it when he started realizing he was getting sick.

She told her about how weak his grip had gotten towards the end and how it taken every piece of her self control not to take his ring and wish it all away.

She wasn’t sure when she started crying but before long her cheeks were wet and she was sobbing as she spoke of the memories and the pain and just how tired she was.

And when she was done she realized that it was already afternoon. She fed Bluebell some more, even though she’d grazed for most of the day, then she packed everything onto Bluebell.

As she rode back she felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Today she’d found something in Bluebell’s presence that she hadn’t experienced for the longest time.

Bluebell didn’t have expectations of her, she was a horse, she didn’t put her on a pedestal like everyone else, to her she was just another human.

Maybe some people would find it funny that she’d found comfort in a horse, but Marinette couldn’t bring herself to care.

It was dark when she got back, she unsaddled Bluebell and brushed her.

She dropped the basket and blanket off at the kitchen and asked the staff to pass on her thanks to Alfred.

She made her way back to her room, passing the sitting room, just as Dick was exiting it. His eyes widened when he saw her.

He looked incredibly relieved, “Guys, I found her!” he called out, then made his way over to her, worry still evident on his face.

“Marinette are you alright? We were so worried,” he took her hand and seemed to be checking her over for injuries.

She frowned, had Tikki not told them that she was going out?

Steph suddenly appeared next to her, along with Jason, Cass and Damian.

Steph pushed Dick away from her, “She’s fine, Dick, you’re invading her space. I told you that Tikki said she’d be out,”

Stephanie’s hand rested on her shoulder. But she didn’t miss the way the girl’s gaze had caught on Marinette’s red rimmed eyes, along with the black rings under them, that clearly indicated that she hadn’t slept.

All the others still seemed intent on making sure she was fine for themselves, some less discreetly than others.

Jason took her cloak off before she even realized it and had folded it, asking a passing maid to wash it and fix the tears she hadn’t noticed.

Dick kept asking questions, but she zoned him out almost immediately.

Cass steered her towards a couch in the living room, and held her hand tightly, while studying her.

Damian was frowning at her muddied boots and a tear or two in her dress. It was an old dress, she was sure none of the tears were new, but she also had a feeling that wouldn’t ease his worry.

Stephanie started arguing with Dick, telling him to leave her alone and that she was clearly fine, though it seemed like she didn’t completely believe the words herself. She wasn’t the only one though, everyone looked worried.

Marinette was surprised, sure her court cared for her. But they never worried or asked questions about where she’d been, they trusted that if she looked fine she was.

So this, this was new.

She found that she didn’t mind too much. Well, she didn’t mind it in general. Right now, however, she was tired and emotionally drained and would rather explain everything later.

“Do you want me to take you back to your room?” Damian whispered from behind her, most of the others were too caught up in their own conversations to notice.

She turned around and met his gaze. Accept this time, she didn’t flinch. He seemed surprised too, maybe talking to Bluebell had done her more good than she’d realized.

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. He studied her for a moment more before looking up and glaring at his siblings.

“That is enough,” he said evenly, “She is clearly tired. If she so wishes, she will tell us what happened tomorrow. Now, I will be escorting her to her room so that she can get some rest,”

Most of his siblings stared at him in shock, while Cass smiled approvingly. Marinette stood and took Damian’s offered arm. He escorted her out of the room.

When they got to the hallway Plagg flew out and gave her a sad smile, “Hi, pigtails,”

She softly smiled back as they walked, “Hey, Plagg,”

He landed on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “You should have seen him freaking out when you were missing. A true black cat, overthinking everything when it comes to their bug. He'll do well,”

He then curled into her neck and purred, she hadn’t missed the sad tone in his voice. Plagg was still grieving, it would take time before he’d truly bond with Damian.

She looked at the boy walking next to her, he seemed to be lost in thought, but he glanced at her every now and then, as though he was checking to make sure she was still there.

She spotted the ring on his finger, reminded of what Plagg said, she decided to break the silence.

“I'm sorry if I scared you guys, I figured Tikki and the note would be enough assurance,” she said softly, turning her head to look at him.

He glanced back at her, and she saw his gaze catching on her red rimmed eyes, “She showed us the note, but those have been faked in the past to hurt us before and we don’t know what your handwriting looks like, a lot of people have been known to target us and those we’re involved with, so we’re a bit paranoid,”

Suddenly she understood their reaction, they thought she might’ve been captured and her note was planted to buy the kidnappers time.

“I didn’t realize that. Though, in future, you should know that you would’ve been able to tell if something was wrong through the miraculous, thanks to Plagg and Tikki's connection,” she said, smiling at him, “Thank you, though, I’m not used to people worrying about me,”

He looked at her in surprise, but his voice was even when he spoke, “How so?”

She shrugged and looked forward again, “People tend to overestimate me,”

What an understatement. Everyone seemed to think she was practically invulnerable. Well, except for Damian and his siblings apparently.

She felt him tense slightly, he seemed to be pretty protective of her already. He had resonated quicker with Plagg than she anticipated.

They walked the rest of the way to her room in a comfortable silence.

When they finally got there he opened her door, but before she could go in he took her hand. She turned her attention to him and he studied her for a moment, clearly hesitant.

“Goodnight, Marinette,” he said softly, staring into her eyes, gaze searching.

She stared back at him and gave him a small smile, “Goodnight Damian,”

That night she slept better than she had in years.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt

[runin-reads]

❛ s o l a r s y s t e m ❜

— hinata harem drabbles and reader insert

SYNOPSIS: my thoughts on various hinata ships, plus my take on what it would be like to marry the sunshine himself.

PAIRINGS: kenhina, kagehina, atsuhina, oihina, hoshihina, tsukkihina, hinata x reader.

A/N: I would add wayyy more ships but I didn’t want this to be too long. I may add a part 2 depending on the feedback I get.

MANGA SPOILERS

☆ﾐ KENHINA

— the only sugar baby and sugar daddy relationship that matters

— shoyou says he likes something off-handedly only for  kenma to buy it in bulk the next day 

— “if you get boring, I’ll stop ;)” that’s it that’s the sunmary. need I say more to describe their dynamic?

— Kenma and him fight a lot to cover the bill, only for Kenma to pay for it secretly on his way to the bathroom 

— honestly just such caring boys to each other. Kenma is so intune with how Shoyou feels and will lay down just about anything to make him feel better. Shoyou brings happiness and energy to Kenya’s life and makes sure that he takes plenty of breaks from the screen, so he can rest. 

— he’s part of the pretty setter squad, what can I say.

☆ﾐ KAGEHINA 

— literal representation of yin-yang. They balance eachother out in the best way and work perfectly together

— volleyball dorks that wanna bring each other to new heights. Constantly noticing improvement (namely Hinata’s) in each other and instantly being filled with joy at the sight of it  

— like seriously. Kageyama was the first to see potential in Hinata, and was willing to put effort into drawing his talent out. Before Kageyama there was no one who would do that shit, and i honestly can’t imagine Hinata without his influence 

—romance aside, their friendship and teamwork is something we all want in life. They’re intune with the others needs and characters, they’re a POWERFOUPLE and everyone acknowledges them as one

☆ﾐ ATSUHINA

— wow, he can jump. That’s it, we wilding now 🤪

— deadass saw him play for one match and decided “ah yes. I want this one” LMAO 

— Atsumu made a promise to toss for him and actually fulfilled that oath 6 years later. King really did THAT. 

— okay but Atsumu casually staking claim over Hinata as HIS wing spiker, really brought out his protective bf side. You can just tell how much pride and trust he has in Hinata as a teammate, enough where he’ll call him HIS wing spiker at any given time.

— I just love the way Hinata encourages Atsumu and his jokes that go over everyone else’s head. 

— “Atsumu-san! I found it funny!” :D

— hinata comes thru when no one else does. We love to see it 

— Atsumu being the stressed mom friend of the jackals and Hinata either adding to the stress, or helping him out.

— hinata being one of the few people that matches Atsumu’s energy for constantly thinking of new moves/techniques for volleyball. Will stay long after practice just to work together and play the sport they love.

☆ﾐ OIHINA 

— DO NOT TELL ME THAT OIKAWA DIDN’T MAKE SEVERAL TRIPS TO RIO TO VISIT HINATA AGAIN. DO N O T.

— oihina spent several days in the honeymoon phase. Going to restaurants, building sandcastles, playing beach volleyball, taking selfies to piss old rivals off. And this is Brazil we’re talking about. They 100% went to bars and danced in the streets, drunk off of the alcohol and the feeling of being close to each other. If this doesn’t scream “forbidden summer romance, I found a piece of home away from home” energy, then idk what does.

— they met as two homesick boys that left the country to pursue their dreams. Both of them were feeling lost and had no idea where to go from there, but then they saw each other and their vigor was restored. I’ll say it again, THEY FOUND A PIECE OF HOME INSIDE EACHOTHER. THEY REMINDED EACHOTHER OF THEIR ULTIMATE GOALS AND THAT VOLLEYBALL IS A SPORT WHERE YOU HAVE FUN.

— oikawa definitely needs reminding that he is enough, that he is skilled and hardworking, and most  importantly to take care of himself. Hinata would definitely be able to provide this support to him. He is a fountain of endless praise and validation, and what makes it better is that it’s all sincere and only based on the truth. 

☆ﾐ TSUKKIHINA

— Tsukki would fucking punch himself before catching feelings for Hinata. Which is what makes this ship even funnier.

— it’s just Tsukki back at it again with his salty inner-monologue to himself and denying his feelings, only for Hinata to waltz right in and change his view of everything 

— the type of couple to be arguing and all up in each others faces, only to be like “holy shit he’s close,” and be reduced to a blushing mess

— when Hinata actually sasses back yall better be behind Tsukki to catch him as he burns. This man will either clap right back or short circuit from the shock alone. 

— he probably develops a hunch from holding hinata's hand all the time and crouching down to give a hug. Mans looking like Quasimodo but it’s okay, he’s in love.

☆ﾐ HOSHIHINA

— not really a fav ship of mine, but I gotta give appreciation where appreciation is due

— they’re so alike yet so different in so many ways 

— I just love how they’ve finally found someone to relate to, someone who knows exactly what it’s like to be underestimated at first, only to completely soar through their expectations in order to reach higher heights 

— they’re a great reference to each other, and they clearly love seeing the other improve and try out different things. They have a deep respect and sense of rivalry, and they most definitely are the dumbest-and-dumbest couple that can’t figure out shit outside of volleyball 

— they compete over the pettiest shit. Will race each other to get into the shower first, or put on their seatbelts. Chaotic energy can be sensed from miles away. Can’t be left alone to do anything without the building collapsing smh.

☆ﾐ HINATA X READER 

— ngl you got the entire volleyball scene jealous 

— like you managed to snag the most versatile and sought after player in the whole of Japan. You really did THAT.

— Shoyou is definitely the type to give you a one-handed hug and a kiss to the forehead every time he has to leave for something 

— will sling an arm around you from behind and ask you about your day. Asks you quick fire questions like, “have you eaten yet?” “Have you drank water?” And is overall a super attentive lover 

— “hey, I’m Shoyou Hinata and this is my spouse!” Cue the blinding grin that’s brighter than the sun 

— Like they do for Hinata, players like Hoshiumi and Ushijima address you by your full name, and you and your husband find it hilarious. 

— “OI HINATA” - kageyama 

— the both of you turn around 

— all chaos ensues

— I feel like Shoyou wouldn’t be the type to flirt with you at first, he’d just be really upfront with it. Will dead ass head straight towards you after practice or something, and say, “hey! Wanna go back to my place after this?” 

— he’d say this with the BRIGHTEST SMILE, and I bet he’d blush a lot too

— he would still blush, even once yall are married and everything 

— everyone cries at your wedding. You don’t know if it’s tears of joy, or they’re all at a loss because they wanted Hinata all to themselves. And honestly? Same.

[ashketchup119]

WELCOME EVERYONE TO ENLIGHTENMONTH (i know im three days late but it be like that)!!! Koukari is one of my oldest ships, so yall KNOW i had to do something. This is actually a snippet from the very long, very fun digimon fanfic I’ve been writing for oh… seven years? Thereabouts.

I still have things coming up for pokemon and the next chapter of figuring it out as we go coming out later today, but i threw all of that to the wind and sat down and, in a fit of inspiration, typed all of this out at 2 AM last night. That being said… ignore the typos. Hope yall like it!!

Together

Enlightenmonth prompt 1: morning/evening

The whole restaurant seemed to be holding its breath.

Well- “whole” implied that there were more than three people in the restaurant.

Kari took quiet sips from her tea, hands shaking noticeably as she stared out the window at the evening sky. Her hair was disheveled, her cheeks red, and her eyes dropped occasional tears that she was quick to wipe away. The tea clasped within her hands had long since gone cold, but she continued sipping anyway, seemingly oblivious to the change in temperature.

Izzy was typing away at his keyboard, somehow managing to click the keys silently in a manner that made clear how much time he spent typing. His hair was messy, his eyes unfocused, and his left eyebrow let out an occasional twitch. He seemed to be staring both through and at Kari, who was looking out the window.

Tai was texting someone on his phone, blissfully unaware of the silent exchange that seems to be happening between his sister and his best friend. He’d hung his jacket on the side of his chair, and had three empty cups in front of him, along with a couple of empty plates.

“Joe is trying to get everyone to buy Mimi a gift for her visit next week.” Tai all but yelled into the empty air, and both Kari and Izzy started and turned to look at him. “I don’t think I’ll do it because broke college student with a kid on the way, but do you guys have any plans?”

“I,” Kari began, voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat, and continued, “I was thinking of getting her some new scrunchies. She seems to really like those.”

“Mm, that’s a good idea.” Tai murmured. “Izzy?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to see Mimi during her visit.” Izzy answered offhandedly, returning his focus to the computer screen and the keys beneath his fingers. “I’m very busy with classes.”

‘And I don’t know if I’d be welcome there anyway.” Went unsaid, but Kari, ever the intuitive one, picked up on it anyway.

“We’d be happy to have you. If you do find the time.” She muttered, crossing her arms and pressing her hands to her forearms.

Izzy looked at her for a moment, eyebrows raised, then quickly schooled his features. “We’ll see.”

The strange tension returned.

“Oh, I’ve gotta go.” Tai spoke after a few minutes, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Soccer practice!”

Kari and Izzy nodded, and Tai ran out of the cafe.

For a moment, neither of them did anything. Kari sat still as a statue, and Izzy ceased typing in favor of staring at nothing.

Kari’s lips pressed into a thin line. “We should talk.”

Izzy sighed and closed his laptop. “I know.”

“You seem to know a lot of things!” Kari hissed, finally looking at Izzy.

“I don’t.” Izzy replied mournfully. “I-“ He hesitated. “I… feel like… I don’t know anything at all.”

Kari scoffed and looked back at the window, tears falling freely down her cheeks.

“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.” Izzy felt the distinct urge to reach across the table and wipe the tears from Kari’s face, but he also knew that would make things worse, so he kept his hands on the table.

“…Okay. You’re- you’re sorry. You’re sorry.” She repeated, feeling as though she couldn’t remember the meaning of the words. “Sorry for what? Sorry for- for running away?! Sorry for- for-“ She gestured vaguely at her stomach. “For this?!”

“I didn’t run away!” Izzy yelled, then looked down at his hands and murmured, “I didn’t run away. You- just-“ He struggled to figure out his next words. “What was I supposed to do? You didn’t want me around! You said so! If-“ His voice broke. “I would’ve stayed if you’d asked me to.”

The silence returned, though this time the very air around them felt oppressive.

“I wanted you around.” Kari whispered. “I just said I didn’t because- because I was scared.” She wiped some more tears from her eyes, then added, “I still am.”

Izzy hesitated for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “I’m scared too.” He finally confessed. “I don’t know how… it’ll all work out, but.” He paused. “But I want to be there. I want to help you. I want us to get through this- together.”

He held out his hand, and Kari stared at it for a moment before she slowly clasped it between her own.

“Together?” Izzy repeated, hopefully.

“Together.” Kari confirmed, smiling.

[nem0-kn0ws-n0t]

Hello! Just a little fic i wrote for an April Fools event a while back! HCBBS and Cleo themed <3 Also on ao3 if yall prefer that way! I'd love to hear y'alls opinions!~

“ZombieCleo~.”

Dark eyes looked up from her small notebook of ideas as the figure landed next to her. She quirked an eyebrow, a small smile teasingly on her lips.

“Keralis~” She shot back with the same tone, standing up from her hooded bench to stand next to the wide-eyed brunet. They held each other’s stare for a bit, expressions frozen in a silent eye contest. Of course, it ended when a gust of wind ruffled the palm tree above their head, letting a single leaf float down and land on Keralis’s nose. His eyes widened even bigger (somehow) before he let out a powerful sneeze, sending the leaf flying into the air and the two of them into a fit of giggles.

Soon enough, Keralis is pulling her around his-her base. Her's now; she reminded him, they swapped them. Keralis pretended to sob at the comments, only pulling out more cackles from her.

Yes, she muses while watching her friend sulk in her new diamond office; this will be great.

~~

The transition was delicate, all things considered. Cleo loved her new base, from the skyscrapers that disappeared in the clouds to the bank tellers to the palm trees. The city was a magnificent piece of modern architecture, and Keralis had done a fantastic job building it from scratch.

It was, however, empty.

Not a single soul in the streets, milling around. No children on the benches or clerks in the stores or anything, really. But that’s alright. Bringing life to a place is Cleo’s bread and butter, after all. A simple spin of parts and spells read off a book, and suddenly life-like beings were created.

It made the otherwise deserted place feel more lively, more homely even. And so she threw herself into her work, creating human-like mirages in every spot she could. It worked, to a degree. The city was much more lively than before, the sound of humanity milling around comforting.

(She does wonder, sometimes, while laying in bed at night, unable to sleep, why it didn’t feel quite at home. Staring at the cyberpunk lights flicker in batches of three, she wonders why, exactly, the uncomfortable feeling she got when she first arrived is still there.

As sleep washes over her finally, she wonders mildly why all the lights in this place flash at the same time, in the same continuous pattern.)

~~

She got her answer eventually.

Many things were off-putting, to say the least, and so for a while before. If she’s honest with herself, she might have dismissed too many hints. But now, there’s no way to deny it.

Strange things were happening in Keralis’s City.

Every light in the city pulsing in beats of three were off-putting, to say the least, but Cleo squared her back and ignored them, dismissing it as lousy Redstone work.

The noise from her office ceiling that she could never quite identify or fix? She was just tired from planning out statues all day.

The constant feeling of eyes on her back was simply her imagination, just nerves to being in such a prominent unfamiliar place.

This, however? No dismissing it.

Cleo took great care in making realistic statues. She spent hours, sometimes days, making perfectly realistic mirages. She programmed every part of them to be fluid and human-like, scripting hand-picked lines and emotions. Her work was high quality because she poured a bit of what’s left of her heart into every scene.

This was not how she left them last time.

The mirage in front of her, a small lost child, was not confused nor scared nor any of the emotions Cleo had programmed into his behaviour. No, the child was staring at her with beady eyes, the brightest grin on his lips.

There was something off-putting in the smile, almost like his teeth weren’t supposed to be there. Too long for a child this age, too sharp, too white. The eyes were following her as she moved around, boring into her skull.

It would have been one thing if only one of the mirages was like this, maybe a prank or something.

No, every single statue had the same blank look on its face. From the bus drivers to the people loitering in the streets, they all had the same empty smile and teary eyes, following her as she walked down the streets. Well, more like ran, like a bat out of hell, trying to forget the stares on her back.

She finally took refuge in the Four Seasons Total Landscaping Hotel, ducking into a random floor, slumping against the walls.

What was that? What was that?

Reprogramming all those statues would have taken so long; she can’t fathom a single hermit having done that overnight.

Her breathing is hard, and she’s almost worried her lungs will detach themselves again, and so she shoves her head between her knees and starts counting slowly.

One, two, three, breath in, breath out.

It’s fine, it’s alright, it’s a nasty prank, that’s all.

Three, two, one, breath in, Breath out.

She can fix it; she’ll spend the next day reprogramming the mirages; it’s alright, she’ll find who did this, and she’ll give them the fear of a lifetime. It’s going to be okay.

With that final thought, she shakily got up, pulling her legs under her and using the wall as support.

She can fix this; she doesn’t have to deal with those expressions anymore. It’ll be fine.

When she finally manages to convince herself to go back outside into the populated streets, she almost falls over again.

The mirages were back to normal. The small child that started this whole mess was back to crying in a corner. The pedestrians were amicably chatting as they walked down the road. Even the store clerks were back to haggling with the shoppers.

Everything was exactly how it was before, no traces of soulless eyes and too sharp smiles.

But Cleo knows she saw them. She did not make that up; the foreboding sense of dread creeping up her spine reassured her of that. She stands, taken aback at the scene she made.

What’s going on?

(She thinks distinctively, maybe she doesn’t want to know, really.)

~~

It all snowballed from there.

Almost as if encouraged by her reaction, the changes were more significant and more daring.

She woke up one morning from a restless sleep to the sight of her home flipped around. It took her a while to realize, smacking into doors that weren’t usually there. Everything was exactly how it was, from the paintings to the flower pots, but simply mirrored on its axis. She could barely believe it, making a note to sleep somewhere else from now.

Another time, she was peacefully strolling around the city, planning out where to add more mirages to make her new home even more to her image, only to be stopped dead in her tracks by a pungent smell. A smell she knows intimately, and it didn’t take long for her to identify where the rot came from.

The bright wheat fields which Keralis had spent hours tediously working on and growing, was nothing but rotten stems left. Not a single trace of life left on those lands, not in the plants, nor the weeds, nor in the rats Cleo knows like to nibble on stalks. Faced with such destruction, she did the only thing she knew how to do and started plucking out the plants.

Cleo’s not one to scare easily, no. She simply rolls up her sleeves and fixes every problem she faces, from fields to buildings to armour stands.

What else is there to do?

~~

The final straw came faster than she expected. Cleo’s seen many things in her post-life after all, and there’s not much that spooks her anymore.

This, however, this, however, was too much.

She’s working in her office when it starts. There are some masks in front of her, half-formed and half painted. The simple repetitive movement is almost comforting in the face of everything that’s going on. A meditative moment, if you wish.

At least, it’d be peaceful if not for the shrill sound reaching her ears.

She pauses, paintbrush freezing mid-stroke, focusing on the sound. The silence that follows is palatable, and if she’d had a heart left, it’d be thundering in her ears.

And then it sounds again.

Is, is that a baby screaming?

It’s akin to an animal’s yowling, but the sound bounces of the diamond ceiling in a demonic way. It’s too long to be of an animal with lengthy, and it’s echoing in a way it shouldn’t be able to in the open-plan office, and it’s freaking Cleo out.

She takes a deep breath, slowly resting the paintbrush and the mask on the table before getting out of her chair, breath shallow. Infinitely slowly, she creeps out of the office, turning around to where the little grass roof rests. It sounds like it came from it from there; maybe she could-

It screeched again. This time, not from the bushes, no from her office, where she just was. Actually, it sounds like it came from behind her desktop chair. Where she just was.

Her back hits the white concrete in fear, a single hand clutching where her heart would be in leftover habits from a life gone by.

“It’s nothing; it’s your imagination,” she mutters to herself, too scared to try and pretend she doesn’t talk to herself. “It’s impossible, whatever it is, it can’t move that fa-”

It screeches again. This time, from right behind her, right on the other side of the wall, and right there and then, Cleo decides enough is enough.

Fear fuels her movement as she slips her elytra over her shoulders, grabs some rockets and flies away from this hellish city. Base Exchange be damned, she’s done with this place, and she wants to go home.

(And as she flies away, she overlooks the shadowy forms flickering in the skyline.

And as the zombie leaves, the city falls back into quiet, save for the light cackling of its true owners.

And as the cat leaves with her tail between her legs, the mice come back out to play.)