#you will be pleased to know that your ask was sent 1 minute after the doot doot

[squishysphealgirl]

the doot dootification... has succeeded.

@acornmaybe I know it's you

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 2

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1. here pt 3. here pt 4. here

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You're a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and things got a little steamy with Nanami in the car after a mission. Now you're left wondering what's going to happen between you.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, slight angst, explicit smut (mdni) !!

˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 8.6k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY WRITING THIS OKAY)

˚₊✩‧₊author's note: i didn't expect to get so many of ya'll asking for a part 2 but thank you for the kind messages! this one is a bit longer and has mostly backstory stuff and angst in a stupid will they won't they sort of way. idk i think i was in a mood writing this. but i promise there is a little bit of something at the end *wink wink*

˚₊✩‧₊if chapter one was this Mitski song, chapter two is this one, iykyk

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You woke up with a start as the sound of a car door closing rang in your ears. You slowly opened your eyes and looked around confused. You sat up quickly, forgetting where you were for a minute. You groaned as you felt a sore sensation in your lower abdomen and you looked down. You noticed a tan suit jacket draped across your body as a makeshift blanket, covering your exposed chest and stomach. Your underwear was on, and you realized that the white fabric you were sitting on was the shirt you had been wearing. 

You felt your face go hot as you started to think back over what had happened. You had slept with him. Your hands covered your cheeks as you felt them go red. You had really slept with him. Memories flashed in your mind, his body on yours, his hands on your body, the ungodly noises he let out- the ones you had let out. 

You took a deep breath trying to control the blood rushing to your face and looked out the car window. You noticed Nanami had driven somewhere, but why? It was a pharmacy. One of the special pharmacies that partnered with the school to bypass prescriptions. 

A man walked in front of the car and you jumped to cover yourself. He looked in, but he seemed to look past you. There was a small barrier. You sighed in relief. Thank god Nanami was a forward thinker. 

You suddenly saw the pharmacy door swing open and Nanami walk out with a small white bag. His hair was down but pushed back, his glasses back on and his blue shirt untucked, probably to cover the stain you had left on his pants. You were a bit taken aback, he looked tastefully disheveled…handsome. He went up to the car and sat into the driver's seat. He looked back at you. “Ah, you’re awake.” 

You nodded. “Where are we?” 

“I stopped by to get you a couple of things. My apologies if I closed the car door too hard.” He reached over to the passenger's seat and grabbed a brown paper bag. He passed it over and you, a little confused, pulled out a T-shirt that said “I ❤️ Tokyo”. 

“I apologize for tearing your blouse. If you send me your measurements I can get you a new one, for now-“ you started to put the shirt on and he went silent as he watched you. You pulled your head through the top and blushed as you noticed his gaze. 

“Thank you.” He nodded and passed you a water bottle. 

“I also got you some pain relief from the pharmacy, I’m afraid I might have been too rough on you.” He grimaced. “I shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away, I apologize.” 

“No, no,” you waved your hands and gave him two thumbs up. “It was fine.” You dropped your hands, embarrassed for a moment, you had picked up the habit of doing that from Akari. That reminded you. “Have…you seen my phone?” 

“Yes, Akari had been trying to reach you. I answered and let her know you were okay, just…feeling under the weather.” He passed you your phone and you unlocked it to check the 6 missed messages and 3 missed calls from Akari. 

-SEX WHAT??

You frowned as you realized you had accidentally sent the unfinished text.

-hello? 

   Ten minutes later

-hey can you answer me I’m starting to get worried  -Y/N I’m serious, please answer my calls  -I’m going to call Nanami if you don’t pick up this next call 

Two minutes later

-call me as back as soon as you can please

You frowned, what were you gonna tell her? 

“I told her you were suddenly sick, so we stopped somewhere to rest.” 

“Thank you.” You couldn’t figure out his tone. He was helping you out, but also covering for himself. Was he doing it out of respect, or…

“I also bought this for you.” He seemed nervous as he reached into the white bag. You looked at what he handed you. You stifled a laugh. It was an emergency contraceptive. “I’m not sure what you might already do, but just in case.” He stared at the box. “I hope this doesn’t offend you. I just figured, you’re young and wouldn’t want…well a surprise, if you will.” He looked back up at you. “Unless you do, I’m not trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, it’s just in case… I thought I’d give you the choice, please don’t be influenced by what I’m saying… I’m sorry, I-“ 

You laughed at him and he shut up. “Don’t worry. You’re right, I don’t want a baby right now. I appreciate it.” You stared at the box. “You’re really charming when you’re flustered.” You looked up at him, but he had no reaction. He just nodded once. You looked back down, sort of disappointed. 

You both began to speak at the same time and stopped. “Go ahead.” He said. 

“Sorry, I was just going to say that I should drive you back. I can go ahead and drop you off at your place. I just need to drop off the vehicle and no one will question if I come back alone as long as you’ve already checked back in.” 

He stared at your shirt. “I should have bought you a better shirt.” 

You smiled and shook your head. “I have a lot of shirts like this, it’s perfect.” You quickly reached for your pants and struggled a little to put them back on. Nanami just watched.  You finally pulled them up and tucked your shirt in a little. You looked back up at him, you caught yourself giving him a thumbs up and stopped. “It’s past 6 so Akari will be the only one to see me since everyone else will have gone home for the day. She won’t even think twice.” His brows moved like he was thinking of something. “Oh, thank you by the way..for cleaning me up.” You handed him back his suit jacket. You picked up his tie and his suspenders and put them in the brown bag. You attempted to pick up his blunt sword but hesitated to touch it. “The building was destroyed…what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Nanami shrugged slightly. “It was only a Grade 2 curse. She could speak some, but she was sometimes incoherent.” He sighed, “It was a very tragic situation she was born from. So I figured I’d destroy the place.” 

“He might not pay you.” 

Nanami shook his head. “Mei Mei set up the mission, she’ll get her money no matter what.” He sighed. “Either way I don’t care.” 

That’s right, Nanami was infamous for not caring about the outcome of missions. At least nothing past the defeat of the curse. He didn’t really care for the politics of defeating one curse but letting another go, or the idea of the clans deciding the codes sorcerers should follow.  

“It’s late…” He said, breaking the silence. 

“I should drive you back.” You started to move and winced a little. 

“I’ll drive to my place and then you can take the car back, rest some more.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, but he just turned back to turn on the car. 

You sat in silence all the way back, thinking. You looked at your phone and shot Akari a text. 

-feeling better, I’m so sorry. dropping off nanami and then heading to the school. 

You closed your eyes and sighed. You had just fucked the man you’d been dreaming about for months and now you were…unsatisfied? No, you had a great time. You snuck a glance at him through the rear view mirror. Did he not have a good time? He was being cold again. No, you were reading too much into it. The curse had influenced him to do it, it could have happened with anyone. Your stomach dropped at the realization. 

It could have happened to anyone. 

Akari was originally supposed to go, if she hadn’t offered you the chance this would be her. Would he have been more talkative with her? People seemed to trust her more, maybe he would be more open. Also, he had said that Mei Mei had set up the mission. Why was he the one that went instead? Had he volunteered? He’d been briefed about the mission so he knew what he’d be facing. He probably thought he wouldn’t be affected. You thought he wouldn’t be affected. But what if…you stopped yourself. You were reading way too much into it. There was no way to know if Nanami had volunteered just to sleep with Akari, but he had gotten you instead. 

You forced yourself to stop thinking about it. You were hurting your own feelings over something you had no proof of. But the fact of the matter was, it could have been anyone driving him. You weren’t special to him. If anything, you gave in easily. A feeling of regret began to wash over you. He probably thought you were so stupid and easy. No, you told yourself, he isn’t like that. But there was no way to really know. The car slowed down as he pulled in front of a tall building. 

“Would you like to come in?” Nanami asked. 

“No, it’s getting late, you should get home and rest too. Today was…interesting.” You said with a smile. You couldn’t see his face as he was staring straight forward. His hands gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white, before he let go and nodded. You looked away frustrated. What did that mean? 

You both got out of the car and lingered outside. “Oh, your sword.” He opened the door and grabbed it easily off the car floor. You watched as his hands wrapped around the hilt and the veins in his arms popped. “Thank you for everything. I appreciate you covering for me with Akari, and thank you for thinking of my health.” You just looked at him, you couldn’t think of the best way to say goodbye. 

“Thank you, for helping me with my…urges.” 

You smiled. “It could have been anyone.” You muttered. You saw his brows furrow but before he could say anything else you bowed politely and got in the car. 

    You watched him stare at you from the mirror as you drove away. His hair unkempt, suit jacket draped over his arm holding the sword, and the brown paper bag in the other. 

-

“Y/N!” Akari ran up to you and hugged you. “You had me worried to death. Are you feeling better? What happened?” 

“I need to hurry before the buses stop running. I’ll just tell you later.” 

Akari rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you a ride. Just tell me, are you okay?” 

You nodded. “The mission was easy enough, I’m just embarrassed.” 

“What got you sick? Was it the curse? I wouldn’t have sent you if I had known what it was, I’m so sorry.” 

“You know?” 

She nodded. “I looked up the report. A grade 2 sex curse. I'm so sorry.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t worry it wasn’t the curse. I ate at the corner shop outside of my apartment cause I was running late, it was my own doing,” you lied.

“Y/N I told you not to eat there anymore, I got so sick last time I was there.” You nodded apologetic. “Then you were, like, actually sick, in front of Nanami. Oh my god, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” 

“What did he say to you exactly?”

She smiled. “He picked up your phone on the last call before I was going to try him. And he assured me you were safe, just not feeling well.” She started laughing. “I asked him to send me evidence, because you can’t trust voices over the phone nowadays, you know, and he sent me this.” She pulled out her phone and showed you a selfie he took. Deadpanned as always. “Not an inch of emotion in his face. I’ve never seen him so ruffled up. His hair looks super messy, did the curse put up a fight?” You clenched your jaw as you felt your cheeks start to burn up, but tried to play it off.

“He said she could speak. And he demolished the place. The building owner was a perv so he decided to just tear the place apart.” You said quickly.

“He must’ve let all his frustrations out, damn.” She looked back up at you. “You look exhausted. Let me drive you home.” 

You shook your head. “I can take the bus, I don’t want to bother you.” Akari could tell something was upsetting you and just nodded. 

“Okay, but let me know when you get home.” 

“Of course.” 

   -

The bus ride was long, but usually you liked the way it gave you time to detach from your work. Today however, you were frustrated that it gave you more time to overthink everything. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to focus on something other than Nanami. 

What were you going to have for breakfast tomorrow? It was your day off. You could go to the bookstore you liked. Or get up early to go to the bakery across town. You were always too late to get your favorite sandwich for lunch, it sold out quickly, but you could tomorrow. 

You got off the bus and went inside your building up to your apartment, you walked quickly past the napping security guard who liked to hit on you sometimes. You sighed as you read the sign taped to the elevator. Out of business. You walked up seven flights of stairs quickly and rushed into your apartment. You put down your backpack and went straight into the shower. 

You plopped down on your couch with a sigh and grabbed your phone off of the coffee table. You opened up the message Akari had sent and you were met by the selfie Nanami had taken. 

   -thought you’d like this, personally I don’t get it, but I support you. rest up, hope you’re feeling better.

You smiled. 

   -thank you, ari.     -let me know if nanami leaves any feedback for me

You stared at the message and decided to delete it. 

    -appreciate you as always. 

    You exited out of your messages and went to check your bank account. You were slightly surprised. It was more than you had thought. Only by a couple hundred but it was enough. 

You opened up your messages again and tapped on your mother’s name. 

   -I had a bit left over this week, I’ll send it to you now. Hope you’re doing well. 

You proceeded to send her money. You thought about calling but you doubt she would answer. 

Your situation was a bit difficult. Growing up it had just been you, your sister, and your mother. Your sister was seven years younger than you, and you had always been close, although that hadn’t been the case for quite some time now. 

When you were eight your mother had woken you up in the middle of the night, with your baby sister and a small duffel bag in tow. The three of you had run away from the tiny smoky apartment your father had stuffed your family in. After that you had never lived in an apartment or house for more than a year at a time, your mother was constantly changing jobs, Taking up new hobbies, falling for pyramid schemes, or falling prey to loan sharks. It had always been something or the other. She was usually gone for hours on end, struggling to make ends meet, leaving you and your sister alone for much of your childhood. You grew up quickly and had basically raised her. You took on the extra responsibility young, but you never resented your mother for it. She was also doing her best. 

As you had gotten older you began to realize you weren’t a typical kid. You often saw things others didn’t, or sensed some sort of presence when nothing was there. The other kids thought you were creepy and left you alone. Everything escalated when you were 16.

At that point in your life your mom had found some solid footing while working at a small church next to an apartment you’d moved into. She finally seemed happy, she had found herself “reborn” under the light of a savior and the longer you lived with her the more you saw her change. You had never really talked to her about the things you saw, the creatures on peoples shoulders as they walked by or the pair of eyes you felt on you coming from dark corners. But one day after coming home you sensed a strange energy from inside the apartment and once you entered you were met with the scene of your mother praying over a young woman, with a man you recognized as the pastor. You looked above them and noticed a large grotesque creature hanging off of the ceiling swinging himself on his gangly arms. 

You stared at it, mouth agape. You had seen all types of creatures, but never one this big. Its bulbous eyes suddenly met yours and its head rotated in curiosity. A wicked forked tongue flickered out of its mouth at you and you screamed. The thing lunged at you and you somehow managed to dodge it as it swung towards you. You began to throw objects at it. 

“Y/N! What's going on?” Your mother screeched. The creature grumbled as the objects clattered against it, but it still made its way to you. Running out of objects to throw, you reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. It jumped at you again and you swung the bat down hard onto the top of its head. There was an ugly crack and the thing dropped in front of you. Purple goo oozed out of its head wound and spilled onto the floor. 

“What happened? What are you doing!” Your mother stared at you in horror and the priest began to chant something. 

“You don’t see it?” You asked in shock. “You don’t see this thing?” You were panicking. 

“What are you talking about, what thing?” 

“This!” You swung your bat down again on the creature, also wanting to make sure it stayed down. You hit it one last time and it suddenly blew up, exploding all over the apartment. 

No one could see anything. The pastor hurried out of the apartment with the young woman, your mother stared at you in horror before following them out. 

Your mother didn’t come back to the apartment for two days. Nor did your sister. 

The pastor called to let you know they were staying at the church. You had an uncomfortable conversation, where he heavily implied your mother wouldn’t be coming back as long as you were still there. 

So you left. 

You hadn’t seen your mother again since that day. It had been 8 years. You still tried to keep in contact with her, although it was mainly one sided. You would send updates on how you were doing, wish her well on holidays, birthdays and the like, but she would never respond. The only time she answered was when you had texted her about getting a job and being able to send her money. She almost immediately sent you her bank information. Your younger sister had social media that you followed to keep up with them. They had stayed in that apartment without you. It was the longest you’d seen your mother stay in one place. She was happy, and you didn’t want to take that from her. 

Besides, it had all worked out in the end. Thanks to a bit of an incident, you had found yourself under the care of an older lady running a small bakery for around six months after you’d left. That was until you had been approached by someone and been initiated into Jujutsu Tech. 

There were only two other students in your year at the school and they had been rather cold to you. Having come in late, and not knowing anything about the sorcery world prior to the curse in your apartment, you were significantly lacking in almost all areas concerning sorcery. 

What you did have was stamina, you were an endless supply of energy and didn’t seem to tire as easily. That, if anything, helped you survive the training, the games, the curses, all of it. 

You decided to become an assistant during your fourth year. One of the other students, Yuri, planned to join the Zenin clan's personal army, while the other planned on mentoring under a professor at the Kyoto school to increase his ranking after graduation. You on the other hand were not so confident in your abilities. 

You had made great strides in progress after having started from scratch, but you never developed a specialty. You had discovered that you were able to use a small amount of RCT, after an incident where Yuri had smashed your face with a staff during what was supposed to be a friendly practice. While you covered your face in pain and tried not to panic as blood gushed from your top lip, you felt the tear and without thinking put your hands up to push the pieces of your lip back together. By the time you went to the medic they said there was not much they could do as you had already healed it. However, with your inexperience you had healed it to a scarred state. They had explained that the small boost of adrenaline from your injury had allowed you to concentrate enough to heal. However the overall consensus from the higher up was that they were not interested in training you any further on it, or rather you weren’t worth training.

So here you were, having worked as a manager for the past 5 years, and still only having very little cursed energy. The two years prior were spent training under different managers until you could be trusted on your own. Akari had trained with you but at a faster rate. After all, you were sort of an outsider. 

Your phone pinged as you received a message, snapping you out from the memory. 

    -he just asked me for your number and I gave it to him, let me know if he says anything crazy or inappropriate. He may be higher on the power scale, but remember my roots. 

You stared in shock at Akari’s message. He had your number…why would he want it? You put your phone down. If he texted you, you didn’t want to see it. You curled up on your couch and bit at your nails. What had you gotten yourself into. You should have refused his advances. He wasn’t in his right mind. You cursed at yourself again, you should have thought about the consequences, the aftermath. It was going to be so awkward. You sighed and stared up at the ceiling. 

Take a breath, you told yourself. You hardly ever saw him. Today had been the first time in the two years since Nanami had been back in the sorcerer world, that you had actually been in close proximity to each other. Alone anyway. You had seen him in meetings, briefly, that’s how this stupid crush had started. You didn’t really have to interact with him and you were fine acting like nothing had happened, sure you’d be a little sad, but that’s probably what he would want too. You bit your nails nervously. What would you do if he did want to see you? 

You shook your head. There was no use in wishful thinking. He hadn’t given you any signs that he was interested after all. Sure, he had invited you into his place but you felt like it was just a formality. He had just rocked your shit after all. You thought back to the way he gripped the steering wheel and the glimpse of confusion when you had said it could have been anyone. What was that? Frustration? Over what? 

You sat up as you remembered the pharmacy bag. You walked over to your small kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. 

Sitting back down on the couch you glanced at your phone nervously. You didn’t want to flip it over. You sighed and reached for it. It was late, if you didn’t answer it wouldn’t be that strange and at least you’d be able to think of a response if he had said anything. 

You checked your screen. Nothing. Somehow that hurt you a little. You tossed your phone again and laid down on the couch, closing your eyes. Whatever. You couldn’t do anything about it. Whatever happened had happened, and whatever was to come would be a problem for the future, no use worrying about it now. You slowly felt sleep take over and you dozed off. 

-

You awoke to the sound of your phone buzzing, and after looking around blindly and half asleep you found it. You pushed a button and held it up to your ear. “Hello?” Nothing. “Hello?” You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes. It was just your alarm. You groaned and let your phone clatter to the ground. 

That’s right, you had planned to get up early to go to the bakery across the city. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You got up sorely and yawned. You picked up your phone again and hesitantly checked your messages. Nothing. You didn’t know if that was better or worse. 

After stretching and getting ready for the day you headed to the bus stop to go across town. You were going to relax completely today. You weren’t going to think about what happened. You weren’t going to think about him. You weren’t going to think about the meeting tomorrow. Your smile dropped. You had a meeting tomorrow morning with all the staff. Usually you wouldn’t have to worry since the higher grade sorcerers rarely showed up to the weekly meetings; however, they had announced this meeting would be mandatory, there had been some incidents related to the investigation of a child's death. Nanami would most likely be there. You scrunched your face. No use stressing about it now. You didn’t know how he would react and again, it was no use worrying about it. 

After getting off on your stop you headed over to the bakery. You had gotten there right before the lunch rush. You went inside and were greeted by the girl that worked there. You smiled back and picked up a sandwich. You thought about grabbing two, one now and one for tomorrow's lunch. You smiled and looked around for a different kind of sandwich. You grabbed a bottle of water and went up to the cash register. 

“Oh these are two of my favorite sandwiches.” The girl said. 

You smiled warmly at her. “I don’t know which one I want to eat first, I’m saving one for my lunch tomorrow.” 

“Hmmm, tough decisions.” You nodded in agreement. 

You heard the doorbell ring behind you as someone came in.  “Hello, welcome-“ she stopped and stared for a bit before putting on a huge smile. “Oh hello Mr. Nanami! It’s great to see you today.” 

You felt your face start to burn up and you froze. You stared down at the sandwiches. You could sense it was him. You took a deep breath. Relax, you told yourself. You turned around and immediately met his eyes. You smiled at him and bowed your head. He smiled back slightly and walked up to you. 

“Good morning, Keiko.” Nanami said to the girl, there was no emotion in his voice.  “Good morning y/n, how are you doing today?” 

You stared at him for a bit before answering. “I’m doing good. How are you?” You felt like you were being a bit cold but you didn’t know what else to say. Your brain was not working. 

He nodded and looked down at your purchase. He added a sandwich and silently pulled out his wallet, and passed his card to Keiko. You stared at his hand and felt your cheeks blush again. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. He grabbed the bag, thanking Keiko and walked over to a small table. You followed and sat down across from him. He pulled his sandwich out and handed you the bag. He pulled the newspaper he had tucked under his arm out and laid it on the table. 

“Thank you for buying my lunch.” You repeated. He nodded. He was so awkward. Or were you the awkward one? You didn’t know what his intentions were and you were getting frustrated. “Did you want to talk about yesterday?” 

His face suddenly had a slight blush although he didn’t move. “Only if you would like to.” 

“I-“ you didn’t know what to say. You were silent. You felt him watching you behind his glasses. You gripped the bag and took a deep breath. You’d already fucked the man, why were you nervous? You looked back up at him with new resolve. “I have some questions.” 

He nodded in approval. “I do as well.” You were surprised, what could he possibly be curious about? 

“You go first.” You said. 

Keiko was suddenly coming towards the table with a coffee in hand. She set it infront of Nanami. “Sorry to interrupt.” She said before stepping back to the counter. 

Nanami took the cup and blew on it. You watched anxiously, your frustration slowly building up. After a sip he put the cup down. “You can use RCT, why are you working as an auxiliary manager?” You were a bit taken aback. That’s what he wanted to ask you? He put a finger up to his shirt collar and slowly pulled down to show you his neck. You remembered now the injury he had sustained by the curse yesterday.

“When did I..” you murmured to yourself. You had forgotten that you had intended to patch him up. You had passed out instead. “I can only use a small amount. It’s nothing really.” 

“You’re wasting your potential,” he said sternly. “You could be helping people.” 

“I would hardly say that. Like I said, I barely have any cursed energy. I don’t know how I do it until the injury is in front of me. Besides, no one would teach me how to use it.” Nanami took another sip of his coffee. “Is that the only thing you wanted to ask me?” You said annoyed. Nanami hesitated to put the cup down. 

“Are you angry at me?” He caught you off guard again. 

You frowned. “No, I don’t think I am.” You thought about how to express your feelings. “I think, I think I’m more frustrated with you.” He gave you an inquisitive look. “I don’t know how you feel about what we did. Regret? Indifference? I know you’re not the type to really show your hand, but I’m not that way. I need to know because I don’t want to give off the wrong impression.” 

“And what is that?” 

You sighed. “I’m just going to be honest with you. We’re adults aren’t we?” You looked up at him. “I have feelings for you.” You blushed but didn’t dare look away. “I’m confused by what you- what we did. I know you were under some sort of influence and I can’t help but feel guilty about everything. The more I think about it the more it eats me up, I don’t think the lines of consent were crystal clear…but I don’t know how you feel about it. I’ll apologize profusely if I have to. Unless you feel differently… Basically..I want to understand your feelings before I can let myself feel anything else.” He didn’t react. “Okay?” You felt your face burn up, but you were proud that you were able to say all that to him. Wait, did any of that even make sense? You thought to yourself. 

He was silent as he finished his coffee. Your stomach grew more and more tense as you waited for his response. 

“I apologize for any miscommunication.” He said finally. “I’m afraid I’m not the best at expressing myself either. I’m not sure what to make of what happened yesterday. I will relieve some of your worries and tell you I hold nothing against you. In fact I’m grateful you were able to help me.” He looked down at the empty cup. “But to be honest I don’t know where to go from here either. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship… I don’t believe romantic attachments are smart given our line of work, I don’t take these things lightly.” You scoffed. You couldn’t help it. “That being said,” he continued. “I would like to know where you want to go from here. As you said we’re both adults, I think it would be in our best interest to hear what each other would like.” 

You just stared at him. “What is it that you want then?” He was swinging the next step back at you but you didn’t want that. You wanted to hear it from him first. 

“As I said I’m not interested in-“ 

“Then we’ll pretend like nothing happened.” You said sharply. You didn’t want to hear it again. It was like you thought. He didn’t want you. It was never about you. He did like Akari, you had been a mistake. He stared at you silently. You took a deep breath. You looked up at him and smiled. “Okay.” You sighed. “Glad we got through that. I’m fine with doing that. I will say I’m a little embarrassed, but now I can work on getting over it.” You looked at the bag with your two sandwiches. You quickly picked it up. “Thank you for lunch today. We’ll call it even. Don’t worry about my shirt, otherwise I’d start to think about the dry cleaning bill for your suit.” You got up from your seat hastily. 

You bowed and started to walk away. He grabbed the bag to stop you. “You are angry with me.” 

You looked back at him and couldn’t hide your frown. “I’m hurt.” You mumbled. His brows furrowed. “I don’t think I was ready to talk to you. I apologize for how I’ve been acting. I still need time to process everything.” You turned away from him. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow.” As you walked away you noticed Keiko bringing another coffee towards the table. You smiled at her as you exited. You hurried towards the bus stop and stopped. The next bus would be there in 25 minutes. He would see you standing there. You groaned and walked past your stop. You pulled out your phone and called Akari. 

She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Y/N how are you today?” 

“I need a drink.” 

“It’s 11 am, girl.” 

“I’ll be pregaming until you’re off. 8 work for you, at our usual spot?” 

“We have a meeting tomorrow morning.” 

“Since when has that ever stopped you?” 

“It’s stopped you before. What’s wrong?” 

You sighed. “Get me drunk enough and I’ll tell you.” 

Akari sighed sarcastically. “If you insist.” 

-

“Cheers!” You clinked your mug with Akari’s and Ijichi who had also decided to join you. You were already five drinks ahead of them and were feeling great. Good enough that you were trying to convince Akari to join you in performing karaoke next. 

“Ijichi, you go up there with me then.”

He shook his head. “I won’t be any good.” 

“Y/N why don’t you just go on by yourself, put on a good show.” 

“You know what, I totally should.” You said smiling from ear to ear. You stood up and clapped wildly for the people who were currently performing. Some others joined you and cheered them on. You loved this place. Akari and you had stumbled into it one night and the warm ambience and amazing food had made you regulars. 

You made your way to the stage and took the mic. You waved confidently as people cheered you on. You motioned to the DJ to play the next song. You laughed and clapped when you saw it was one of your favorites. 

Cue “Dress Down” by Kaoru Makimoto

You were smiling, dancing, having the time of your life, almost getting to the last chorus of the song when you noticed more people coming towards your table. You waved cheerfully as you noticed Shoko, Ijichi must’ve invited her. You moved around the stage and your heart stopped. Nanami was also sitting down. You looked at him and your eyes met. He paused before sitting down all the way. You stopped singing for a bit. 

He sat and turned his head away, you turned away as well. You sucked your teeth and kept singing. You were having a good time. You smiled again thinking about how ironic it was that you had run into him twice on the day you didn’t want to see him.

You finished the song and bowed dramatically as people cheered and clapped. You handed the mic off to a girl dragging her boyfriend on stage and gave them a thumbs up. 

“You’re quite energetic,” Shoko said to you as you sat down next to Akari. 

“She’s 7 beers in, I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.” Akari said. 

“Rough day?” 

You smiled at Shoko and scrunched your face. “Rough life.” 

“Cheers to that.” She raised her mug and everyone around raised theirs as well. 

“Cheers!” You gulped down your drink and let your eyes go to Nanami who was silent. You smirked. “Who’s doing karaoke next? I can’t be the only one who does it tonight.” 

“Ijichi san, you should go up there.” Shoko said after downing her entire beer. 

Ijichi blushed, “Ah, I don’t think I’ll be any fun to watch.” You smiled and snuck a glance at Akari. It was so obvious he had a crush on her. 

“Come on Ijichi, as long as you have fun it doesn’t matter.” You said playfully shoving him. “Or do a group performance.” You looked up at Nanami. “You and Nanami, now that I would love to see.” You laughed and Shoko smiled amused. 

“Have you really had 7 drinks already?” Nanami asked. 

You squinted your eyes at him and smiled. “Is that a challenge?” You chugged down the beer in front of you. “Ah, how refreshing. 8 now!” 

“She’s very good at handling her drinks.” Akari said. “Well, beer anyways.” 

   You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “That was one time!” You laughed and waved down the waitress. “Let’s get another round. Is anyone else starving?” 

The night went on and you and Shoko chatted up realizing you had a lot in common. You ended up doing two more karaoke songs. One with Akari and thanks to Shoko, you managed to convince Ijichi to go up with you. You and him performed like your life depended on it. And the crowd ate it up. You were smiling from ear to ear again. You weren’t gonna let Nanami make you upset in your own space. In fact, why were you even upset? Was it so bad that he wanted to pretend like nothing happened? If anything it made things easier. You weren’t exactly in any position to date, especially not someone higher up. You smiled and waved at Akari from the stage. She smiled and waved back and you noticed Nanami talking to her. Your smile faltered but you just took another drink before looking at Ijichi and singing again. 

Good for them. You would do anything for Akari, so stepping aside for her to be with him wouldn’t be a problem. You only had a crush. 

You finished up the song and headed back to the table. “-you’re making it obvious.” You caught the tail end of Shoko and Nanami’s conversation. 

“Where did Akari go?” You asked. 

“Bathroom.” Shoko said. “You should quit your day job and become an entertainer Y/N, the crowd loves you.” 

You smiled. “The old timers here love me, I don’t think it would translate well outside.” You laughed. “Besides, they loved Ijichi too! If I do quit you have to join me in my new career.” 

“We’d miss him terribly.” Shoko said. Ijichi blushed again and you laughed. 

“Very true, cheers!” You raised your glass. You weren’t sure how many drinks you had downed at this point. “To Ijichi and everything he has to put up with.” 

“Cheers!” 

Akari came back to the table and plopped down next to you. “We should wrap up soon. We have a meeting in the morning.” You pouted. She gave you a look. “It’s almost 2 am.” 

“Oh!” You said surprised. “You all let me drag you out for so long?” You stood up and bowed dramatically. “Thank you for indulging my night out.” 

Shoko smiled. “Anytime, you’re a star.” She winked at you playfully. 

“Shoko, marry me please.” you said clasping your hands together jokingly.

She laughed and finished her drink. “I’d have to get in line.” Nanami shot her a look and you laughed. “You should come out with us more. Ijichi, Nanami, Utahime, and I go out for drinks every other week or so.” She looked at Akari. “You too dear. The sane sorcerers have to stick together.” 

Nanami excused himself to use the restroom. Shoko smirked once he was gone. “He’s going to try to pay the bill but I already got it.” 

You looked at her shocked. You grabbed her hands. “Shoko, please marry me.” She laughed again. 

“Where have you been all my life?” she said smiling.

“Want me to drive you home?” Akari asked you. 

You nodded and slapped your hands together again this time bowing down to her. “Yes please.” 

“Of course!” She said proudly. 

“Let me run to the bathroom real quick.” 

You excused yourself and headed towards the bathrooms in the back. You smiled as you passed people, you hated to admit it but you were a bit buzzed. You were a little extra friendly when you were like this. You laughed to yourself. It was fine as long as you didn’t run into- you saw him coming out of the bathroom and walking towards you. The hallway to the bathrooms was rather narrow. There was enough space for two people to stand side by side but not much. He looked straight ahead as if he wasn’t even going to acknowledge you. Oh well, you thought. You continued on merrily. 

As you passed him you felt his hand brush past yours and felt him slightly tug on your sleeve. It was quick but you felt your heart flutter and you stopped. 

“Nanami.” You said as you turned to look at him. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why did you do that?” He was silent, still not turning. You walked back towards him standing inches away. You quickly looked past him, ensuring no one was approaching. You grabbed his sleeve. “Is anyone coming?” 

“No.” He said. 

You sighed and dragged him into the bathroom. 

You quickly locked the door behind you. The amount of times you had accidentally walked into a couple being intimate was astounding. He stood a couple of feet away from you and stared. You turned back to him and smiled. “I know what this looks like, but I just want to talk. Really.” You put your arms up to wave your hands. “I’m a little tipsy but if anything I have the words to say what I finally want to say. Let’s talk.” He stepped closer to you, closing the gap in an instant. “Oh fuck.” You said taken aback, he had pinned your back against the door. 

“I don’t want to talk.” He said gruffly. Moving his lips closer to your ear. 

“Obviously. I don’t think you said a single thing to me out there. Are you-“ 

“Are you really okay with forgetting what we did? It didn’t bother you? It didn’t leave an impression?” 

“Now you have questions.” You couldn’t take him seriously. The alcohol was not helping. You looked up at him and smiled coyly. “You want the truth?” He just stared at you. You leaned your head closer to him and pressed your cheek to his so you could whisper in his ear. “You took my virginity.” You kissed his cheek as you pulled your face back. You looked at him and his face was red. You giggled and put your hands up to cup his face. “I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” He slowly moved his face closer and you leaned in to kiss him. 

You both suddenly and passionately kissed each other, Nanami wrapping his hands around your body to pull you closer. He was almost as desperate as he had been in the car; tugging on your lips and rolling his tongue into yours. You winced as his glasses poked into your face and he quickly took them off. You stopped for a bit and smiled at him. “You’re beautiful.” You said giggling.

He furrowed his brows and moved forward to kiss you again. He pinned you back against the wall again and you hoisted yourself up by his shoulders to wrap your legs around his waist. He steadily rocked into you and you moaned as his bulge hit your sensitive clit. You grinded desperately back on him. You shuddered as you were already coming close and you moaned into his mouth. “Nanami, wait.” You removed your arms from his shoulders and lowered yourself. You slid down onto your knees and worked on his belt. You giggled to yourself, you were feeling bold. You hungrily pulled out his cock and smiled as he tensed. You wrapped your hand around him and he let out a breath. You licked a long stripe and smiled as you watched him grow red. You took the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the top, but he suddenly moved your face back. 

“If we do that, I won’t be able to control myself.” You laughed and frowned, feigning upset. “I don’t want to ruin your pretty face tonight.” He pulled his pants further down and lifted you up to stand. “Your cunt on the other hand…” 

You smiled. “You’re good.” You quickly pulled down your safety shorts and underwear as he pulled you up by your waist, allowing  you to wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability. Using his knee he pushed your legs open and moved a hand down to steady you before teasing your folds by rubbing up on them. “Hurry, they’re going to notice we’re-“ he entered you and you gasped. You were still a bit sore from yesterday, but once again he was hitting that spot that sent tingles into your stomach. “Fuck!” 

He smiled and started rocking his hips into you. Kissing you and muttering words of praises. You felt your climax rapidly approaching and you couldn’t help but moan and buckle your hips wildly against him. You felt him speed up and you were suddenly in total bliss. You felt the heat quickly build up inside you before it flooded your entire body. You climaxed and felt yourself clamp down on him. “Fuck.” He said as he slammed his hips into you deeper and deeper before settling there with a final jut and coming deep inside of you. His grunts as he came made you smile and you peppered kisses on his face. He put a hand up under your chin and guided you to kiss his lips. You pulled back and smiled at him happily. 

There was suddenly a knock on the door and your head snapped towards it, startled. “Y/N you in there?” It was Akari. “Are you okay? Is your stomach upset again?” 

You felt Nanami slide out and he quickly grabbed some toilet paper to collect what oozed out of you. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry. I guess it wasn’t the best idea to go out drinking after I fucked up my stomach yesterday.” Thank you, you mouthed to Nanami who had wiped you clean and was now wiping himself. “Did everyone else leave?” 

“Nanami still isn’t back. Shoko said he might have gone out for a smoke, I didn’t know he smoked honestly.” You looked back at Nanami and he shook his head. I don’t. He seemed to say. 

“Okay, just give me like 3 minutes and I’ll be out there, I’m sorry.” 

“You’re good!” Nanami looked at you with pleading eyes. 

“Come home with me,” he whispered. You blushed and considered it. 

“I..I can call a taxi if you want to go ahead and go home, I honestly might be longer.” 

You heard Akari laugh from the other side of the door. “It’s no problem, god knows you’ve seen me worse. Actually do you want to just spend the night at my place and we can head to work together? I do live closer so you’ll get to sleep in a bit more.” 

Nanami shook his head and you frowned at him. “That sounds good.” He looked upset. You smiled slightly. He was way more expressive without his glasses. “Tell the others I’ll be right out. They can go without me.” 

“Okay, I’ll tell them there was a line. Your secret is safe with me.” 

“You know I love you right.” You said to Akari. You heard her laugh again. 

“Shoko was right earlier, she has to get in line, I’m gonna marry you first.” You heard her walk away. 

“Why won’t you come with me?” Nanami asked seriously. 

Your smile dropped as you thought about it. You shrugged. “I don’t know you. I don’t think it would be appropriate.” 

“Really?” He said in an annoyed tone, as he zipped up his pants and handed you your underwear. You rolled your eyes and smiled at him. You reached up to take your panties when he playfully raised them higher. “Let me help you with that.” he lowered his arm and lowered himself down, opening the band to let you slip your legs into them. He slowly slid them up your legs, letting his fingers trace your skin. He stood back upright and hovered his face in front of yours smiling mischievously. You blushed and slipped on the rest of your bottoms. 

You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and he gently placed his hands on your waist. “You said it yourself, you’re not interested in pursuing a relationship with me.” 

“I-“ 

You shook your head and cut him off. “Why would you take me home other than to just fuck me again? I have a bit more self respect than that. Besides, I told you I had feelings for you. I don’t want to give myself hope.” You looked down, feeling a bit somber. “I don’t know why we keep running into each other like this, but I know I don’t have your heart even in the slightest. I know I’m not who you were hoping for.” He looked at you confused. He opened his mouth to speak but you kissed him to shut him up. “You need to start carrying around condoms, you’re going to get someone pregnant like this. Wait two minutes before you walk out.” You quickly slipped out of his embrace and opened the door. 

“Y/N, wait.” 

You closed the door behind you and looked at the person waiting to go in. “I’d wait for the other bathroom to open up, give this one time to air out. I’m sorry.” You said and walked away. As you walked you noticed how sore your lower abdomen was. The alcohol was wearing off and what you had just done was slowly sinking in. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: i'm sorry for ending this with another cliffhanger but i didn't want to make this any longer than it already is and i also didn't want to give y'all a chapter without a little spice. i'm still trying to figure out the direction of part 3... theres a lot of things that i introduced here that might just not go anywhere oops. i have a whole project in my head but it might be something for ao3 isntead idk. i'll be sure to wrap this up neatly tho. anyway thank yall for reading and remember that if you saw a typo, no you didn't. shout out again to cath for reading my god awful writing and editing it haha

pt 1. pt 3. pt 4.

[min-imum]

part 1

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: this is part 2!!! part 1 linked above, gn!reader, lingerie, mingyu has a big dick (everyone act surprised), light bondage…?, unprotected sex (sounds nice in theory but it’s not in practice. wrap your willy don’t be silly), a little bit of crying!, ummmmm

mingyu hurries out of the building at 5.59pm. he pretends he doesn’t hear seungcheol hyung screaming for him from the second floor and books it — his goal is to get home as fast as he can.

it’s just one minute, seungcheol hyung won’t be that mad about it… hopefully.

when mingyu bursts through the door, hair disheveled, bag thrown haphazardly over one shoulder, clutching his phone in a death grip, you’re lazing around on the couch.

In That Damn Lingerie.

well, not just the lingerie — you’re also wearing a sheer little robe over it, and if anything, it just makes mingyu even harder in his pants.

you bounce up to him to greet him with a smile, but before you can even offer to take his bag off him, he drops it onto the floor and grabs you by the hips to pull you into a bruising kiss.

“shit, baby,” he moans. “it was torture waiting for work to be over. you’re such a minx.”

you giggle, letting him run his hands over your body with a crazed look in his eye. “just wanted to give you a little present while you were at work.”

he doesn’t know what to touch, his hands roaming everywhere across your body. he starts from your hips, then moves down to grope your ass, then slides them back up to run his palms over your chest. you whimper and arch into his touch.

“gyu,” you moan. he hums, kissing along the length of your neck from your ear to your collarbones. you grab his biceps for support as he sucks harder and leaves marks to replace the fading ones from a few days ago.

“dolled up all for me?” he asks in a low voice. you both know the answer, but he wants to hear you say it.

“yes,” you gasp. “all for you, gyu.”

he lifts you up easily and carries you to the bedroom, laying you down on soft sheets and kissing you again. his lips are reddened and bruised from the kissing and you have no doubt you look the same.

when he finally finds it in him to peel away from you, he leans back and tugs his shirt over his head. his body never fails to make you squirm — the defined lines between his pecs and outlining every one of his abs are testament to the strength contained in his body.

he peels off his pants next, and the length straining against his boxers makes you drool. this is what you’ve been craving all day.

“gyu,” you whine. “touch me.”

he kisses you again as he helps you out of your robe. as much as he loves it, it’s getting in the way. his eyes roam your body, now clad in just the red lingerie from earlier, appreciatively. the pictures are nothing compared to the real thing.

“you don’t know what you do to me,” he grunts. “the pictures earlier, and now this…”

you’re absolutely gorgeous. the red compliments your skin tone and matches the flush on your cheeks. seeing you wear his favourite colour makes the blood rush down to his dick embarrassingly quickly. he groans as his cock, still confined in his underwear, brushes against the bed.

however, he’s been staring for a little too long, and you’re getting impatient. you spread your legs and pull your bottoms to the side.

“i prepared myself already,” you tell him. “fuck me, please, gyu. i need it. i’ve been waiting for you all day.”

you’re going to kill him.

“okay, baby. fuck.” he exhales harshly as he finally removes his boxers. his cock springs up, engorged and painfully hard, and he hisses as he strokes it once, twice, with a lubed hand.

he slaps the tip of his cock against your hole, teasing, making you whine — a bit of payback for the suffering he had to endure after you sent him your present.

“gyu, stop teasing,” you beg. “just put it—”

he grabs both your wrists and presses them to the mattress above your head, then slides his cock into you in one smooth stroke. your mouth snaps open in a silent scream.

no matter how many times you’ve taken his cock, he’ll always stretch you good.

“keep your hands here, baby,” he instructs.

you nod obediently, and he releases your wrists to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead, and then he fucks you like he means it.

every thrust stretches you out deliciously, making you moan in stuttered little ah-ah-ahs as he fucks you relentlessly. tears slip out of your eyes in pleasure, but you keep your arms above your head like he instructed, fingers twisting harshly in the sheets.

above you, mingyu groans in pleasure at the tight heat around his cock. “shit, baby,” he pants. “you feel so good.”

your eyes roll back in lieu of a reply as his cock hammers at your spot. you babble incoherently, unable to form words.

“so pretty for me. so good.” he praises.

“g— cum, cum,” you whimper. “gonna…”

“cum for me.”

you orgasm with a scream, your warmth tightening around his cock so hard it makes his hips stutter. he looks down at you, tears running down your face, hair splayed out on your pillow, lingerie rumpled. he thrusts into you thrice more before he comes with a curse and a groan. his face twists in pleasure as he empties into you and fills you up with his cum.

mingyu holds you tight for a few moments before letting you go and pulling out slowly. his cum leaks out of you from around his cock.

“don’t move, baby.”

he grabs his phone, then snaps pictures of your disheveled state — your flushed face, your bruised neck, your crumpled lingerie, and his semen leaking out of you. “you look so pretty like this,” he tells you.

this is premium jack-off material for the next time he has to go on tour without you.

finally satisfied with his pictures, he starts to clean you up thoroughly with a wet cloth. you let him remove your lingerie for you to add to your laundry pile. he slumps down on the bed next to you once he’s done and giggles when he finds you already asleep.

“goodnight, my love,” he whispers anyway, kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him. you snuggle into his chest, seeking his warmth even while asleep, and he wraps an arm around you protectively.

he falls asleep with you, safe and satisfied, in his arms.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 2

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

As the flash of cameras blinded you, a reporter stepped forward, her voice eager as she asked, "How are you feeling now? We heard you were seriously ill while working abroad."

You forced a smile, nodding. “I’m doing much better now, thank you. The treatment was tough, but I’m fine.”

Another reporter, sensing an opportunity to dig deeper, asked, “Can you tell us how you two met?”

You exchanged a brief glance with Bucky, before turning back to the crowd with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, we met at a music festival. I was in the corner trying to charge my phone, and this guy”—you gestured toward Bucky with a casual wave—“came over asking to borrow my charger. We started talking, mostly about music—our favorite artists, the ones we didn’t like. After that, we kept hanging out, and, well… it led to this.”

You smiled at the cameras, but there was a hint of something sharper in your eyes. “But, you know, not once did he ever mention his dream of going into politics,” you added, the words tinged with just enough edge to make Bucky flinch.

Bucky chuckled, the sound forced. “I didn’t want to scare her off.”

The press continued to bombard you both with questions, but most of them were directed at Bucky. He answered each one with the polished ease of a seasoned politician, while you stood there, feeling increasingly out of place and suffocated by the whole charade.

The situation you found yourself in—the pretense, the constant spotlight—filled you with a simmering frustration. You hated every minute of it.

As the car doors closed, you finally exhaled, the chaotic blur of cameras and flashing lights now safely behind tinted windows.

“Well done. You’re fitting right in,” Bucky said, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of arrogance and ease as he loosened his tie.

You turned to him, your eyes narrowing. “Do you think I’ll just stay silent? I could write an article that would burn everything you’ve worked for to the ground.”

He smirked, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms with a casualness that made your blood boil. “Are you blackmailing me, babe?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, rolling your eyes.

“We have to start acting like a happy couple. Nicknames are part of the package,” he replied, his smirk never fading.

“I fucking hate you,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, loaded with every ounce of resentment you’d been holding in.

“I don’t, though. I never did,” Bucky responded, his tone softening, almost sincere.

You faltered for a moment, your defenses momentarily shaken. His words, no matter how simple, had a way of cutting deeper than you expected. But you quickly recovered, crossing your arms defensively.

“If I get elected, I promise your independent news company will have us as a sponsor,” Bucky continued, his tone now all business. “Isn’t your boss stressed out, looking for investors? Independent news still needs money to pay employees.”

You clenched your jaw. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Your company was struggling, and his offer—no matter how twisted—would keep it afloat.

“Consider this a business relationship,” he added, his eyes locking onto yours, challenging you.

You leaned in closer, voice laced with sarcasm. “Oh, no, no. Whatever Bucky wants, Bucky always gets.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, his smirk disappearing as he met your gaze with a seriousness that sent a chill down your spine. “Not this time. This time, I’m making sure we both get what we want. But don’t forget, if you decide to play with fire, be ready to get burned.”

The next thing, he did is made a video call, his eyes never leaving the screen. The call connected, and the familiar voice of your brother, Tim, came through the speaker.

“Hey, the numbers are looking great, bro,” Tim said, his enthusiasm evident even through the screen.

Bucky nodded approvingly. “Good. Oh, there’s someone who wants to see you.” He turned the phone to reveal you.

Tim’s eyes widened in surprise. “Omg, you’re back! You’re really here!”

Bucky chuckled, his expression smug. “I know, right?”

You were momentarily stunned, seeing your brother working for Bucky. The betrayal stung, making your heart twist in your chest. Tim’s presence here was a stark reminder of how deeply involved Bucky was in every aspect of your life now.

Tim pointed at you with a half-serious, half-playful expression. “Don’t mess this up.”

Bucky exchanged a few more words with Tim before ending the call. He looked over at you, his gaze intense. “He seems happy working with me. His hard work would be ruined if the truth got out, wouldn’t it, big sis?”

The words hung heavy between you, the implication clear. Bucky knew how protective you were of Tim and how much you cared for him. The tension in the car felt suffocating, every second stretching out as you tried to process the double blow of betrayal.

You turned away, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, the realization of being trapped with no easy escape. Bucky was holding all the cards, and you were left grappling with the enormity of it all.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The car navigated through a series of well-manicured streets, finally pulling up to a grand, sprawling estate. Your eyes widened as you recognized Bucky’s house, an imposing structure that spoke of old money and inherited power. The sight only deepened your sense of dread.

As you stepped out, you glared at Bucky, frustration etched on your face. “Am I going to stay here?”

Bucky gave you a sidelong glance, his smile barely masking his amusement. “Oh no. We’ll be staying at another house. I just wanted to introduce you to the team.”

A sigh of exasperation escaped you. “Urghh… is your mother here too? I hate her.”

Bucky chuckled, his tone laced with mockery. “No filter, huh, babe? She’s here… but then again, you two have always had differing opinions.”

You shot him a withering look. “She’s the main reason I left. She hated me from the moment you introduced us. Remember? She called me a ‘poor bitch from Monte Cristo.’”

Bucky nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and resignation. “It’s her signature move.”

“Bucky, the longer I stay with you, the more I want to snap. If you put me in the same room with your mother, I might just lose it,” you snapped, your frustration boiling over.

Bucky’s smile remained, but his eyes grew colder. “Good thing you won’t have to share the same roof then.”

As you walked through the house grand entrance, one of Bucky’s team members approached him with an enthusiastic smile. “Introducing her to the public really boosted our numbers. Great move, James.”

Bucky glanced at you with a victorious grin, as if he’d just won a major battle.

Soon, his siblings made their appearance. His brother, a tall, disheveled figure with an air of erratic energy, was clearly under the influence of cocaine. He flashed a toothy grin at you before turning his attention elsewhere. His sister, reserved and quiet, offered you a polite nod, barely acknowledging your presence.

Then, his young nephew Nate bounded up to you, his face lighting up with recognition. He wrapped his small arms around your leg.

“Hey, Nate!” you said, surprised and touched that he still remembered you. “It’s been a while.”

Nate looked up at you with wide eyes. “I remember you! You used to play with me.”

You patted his head gently, feeling a pang of nostalgia.

Meanwhile, Caroline Barnes, Bucky’s mother, observed you from the corner of the room. At seventy, she looked every bit the part of the icy matriarch, dressed head-to-toe in Chanel. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, were framed by a carefully styled silver coiffure. She held her champagne glass with a delicate but dismissive grip.

“Something about her, I always hate. I can’t explain why,” Caroline said with a sneer, her gaze never leaving you.

Julius Barnes, Bucky’s father, stepped in. With his full gray beard and military posture, he exuded authority. “Be nice, Caroline. It’s crucial for her to be here. We can’t afford to lose this opportunity.”

You looked at Julius and Caroline. Both had clearly aged, their faces lined with the stress of the campaign.

Caroline forced a thin smile. “Welcome. It’s so delightful to have you here. I’m sure you’ll find the atmosphere… inspiring.”

You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, you’re such a fucking liar.”

Caroline’s eyes widened in surprise at your boldness. “You’re really brave now,” she said, a hint of shock in her voice.

“Because I’m not part of your family anymore. The marriage between me and James was supposed to have ended,” you retorted, your voice cold and steady.

Caroline’s smile faltered, but she quickly regained her composure. “Well, dear, you must be quite the sight to behold for us tonight.”

Julius stepped in, trying to defuse the tension. “Let’s keep this civil. We have important matters to discuss.”

You glanced at Bucky, who watched the exchange with a bemused expression. It was clear that this charade was far from over, and you were trapped in a web.

As you and Bucky prepared to sit down on the plush couch, the campaign team busied themselves in the background, setting up for the next presentation. You moved to take a seat, but Caroline's voice cut through the murmur of activity with a sharp edge.

“Na-ahh. Put a blanket under her,” Caroline said, her tone dripping with disdain. “We don’t know what kind of virus she’s brought back from another country. And this is a $50,000 couch.”

You stared at her, incredulous. “What the fuck? Is that a joke?” You turned to Bucky, eyes flashing with irritation. “Because strangling her is a joke for me.” You chuckled darkly, “I think it's funny too.”

Bucky’s face tightened as he stepped between you and his mother. “Stop it, Mom. I need her more than I need your attitude.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed, her face a mask of thinly veiled disdain. “Well, isn’t that just charming,” she said, rolling her eyes as if the very act of speaking to you was beneath her.

Julius, standing nearby, shot Caroline a stern look, his military bearing evident in the rigid set of his shoulders. “We’re trying to keep things civil. This isn’t the time for your petty grievances.”

Caroline huffed, crossing her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine. Let’s all just pretend we’re one big happy family, shall we?”

You took a deep breath, trying to suppress the growing anger bubbling inside you.

The room felt charged with tension, and it was clear that the facade of civility was wearing thin. Bucky gave you a reassuring glance, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of frustration.

Greg part of the campaign team, a wiry young man with an anxious energy, took center stage. He adjusted his glasses and began to explain the next phase of Bucky’s campaign strategy with a mix of nerves and enthusiasm.

“So the next plan is…” Greg said, his voice slightly shaky. He clicked through a series of slides on the screen behind him, each one detailing the upcoming events. “We’re focusing on increasing voter outreach through targeted social media campaigns and local meet-and-greets. We’ve also got a major fundraising event coming up next week.”

Bucky nodded, his expression a mask of professional detachment, though his eyes flickered with a hint of approval. You, seated beside him, tried to maintain your composure, though the tension in the room was almost palpable, especially with Caroline still glaring at you.

Greg continued, his tone growing more frantic as he reached the final point. “And the last thing…” He took a deep breath, glancing nervously between you and Bucky. “Both of you will need couples therapy.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a sarcastic smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh, isn’t this just wonderful?”

Greg’s face reddened as he tried to recover from his awkward announcement. “I mean, it’s just… well, it’s a suggestion. You know, for the campaign’s sake. Sometimes, a little… uh… harmony at home can be beneficial.”

Bucky gave a tight smile, his gaze fixed on Greg. “I appreciate the suggestion, Greg. We’ll definitely consider it—maybe after we get through the rest of this circus.”

Greg nodded vigorously, clearly relieved to move on from the uncomfortable topic. “Right, of course. Well, let’s focus on the campaign, then.” He hurriedly wrapped up the meeting, leaving you both alone.

You sighed and turned to Bucky. “Did you wake up this morning and decide you wanted to be Vice President, or was it just a spontaneous career choice?”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Oh, you know me. I was just lying in bed, thinking how I could add ‘Vice President’ to my list of hobbies. Figured it’d be a nice change of pace from ruining your day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unamused. “And here I was thinking you might have a bit of humility left.”

Bucky chuckled, lifting an eyebrow as he shifted in his seat. “Humility? That’s for people who aren’t trying to get elected. But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find some way to make this circus amusing for both of us.”

He leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Honey, I’ll give you the ticket.”

You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “A ticket? To what, exactly? Your endless charade?”

Bucky’s smirk widened as he leaned back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “To the front row of the greatest show on earth. It’s going to be quite a ride, I promise.”

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[srjlvr]

ENHYPEN

,, enhypen’s reaction to their partner commenting on their live ! — <3

OT7!enhypen X idol-fem-reader | genre fluff | warnings mentions of food ! | not proofread | note. with all the seriousness im a sucker for these kind of reactions. | also yes, i know it’s hard but PLEASE imagine that their interaction with their partner is allowed and fans totally love it and live for it.

— 희승 ✶ (heeseung)

you had your free time in between your very tight schedule, you decided to text your boyfriend and ask him how his day is going so far. you waited about ten minutes which was weird—he has a free day today.

that was when you noticed enhypen is on live! you quickly got in and saw your boyfriend smiling at the screen while talking to his fans.

“what’s this bracelet? oh that! y/n gave it to me, look at her wrist she has a matching one” he smiled. you tapped your keyboard and sent your comment, ‘that’s why you didn’t reply to my text!’

“oh? y/n’s here!” he smiled widely this time, “i’m sorry i’m having too much fun here” he answered your comment, “everyone please give lots of love to y/n while i reply to her text”

just like that, he grabbed his phone to answer your texts, regardless of his 1 million views on live.

— 제이 ✶ (jay)

jay decided to go on live today and play some songs with his guitar while talking with his fans. he was so busy focusing on his guitar to notice your cute comments which adores him so much.

you were almost about to give up after commenting more than any other fan on the live when he finally looked at the screen, “huh? y/n’s here?” he asked the fans.

when he noticed your comment, ‘you look so cute today, my cute boyfriend😙’ he giggled while staring at it.

“i’ll be playing the next song for y/n,” he suddenly said and grabbed his guitar again, “it’s our favorite song! you should listen to it”

you then stayed until the end of his live, not minding the fact that you’re a bit late to your next schedule.

— 제이크 ✶ (jake)

he was busy putting his favorite songs on youtube and singing his heart out to notice your song recommendations.

“lately, i’ve been spending my time with y/n while listening to our favorite songs, i really recommend you to do it with a person you love and cherish” he pressed his lips together and smiled.

fans noticed that speaking about you always made him smile and feel better.

he was searching for song recommendations in the comments again and noticed yours, “oh? wait a minute!” he reached to the phone to search your comment again.

“it’s y/n!” he said and immediately went to youtube and put your song, “its her favorite song, i hope you’ll like it too” he smiled proudly while pointing at the screen.

— 성훈 ✶ (sunghoon)

sunghoon was answering some questions and talking about his previous schedule.

you decided to comment on his live random questions to see if you can get noticed, questions like ‘sunghoon!! how’s gaeul doing?’ and more.

without even noticing that it was you, sunghoon replied to all of your questions. “people are saying that y/n is here” he reached his phone and searched through the millions of comments.

after noticing your questions that he answered just a second ago he giggled and smiled, “i didn’t even notice it was y/n”

you then commented ‘you don’t even text your girlfriend lately’ and he just sat there for a few minutes and just asked for your forgiveness after his own fans told him to apologize.

— 선우 ✶ (sunoo)

sunoo was playing some songs while sharing with everyone a few stories that happened lately.

“right! y/n came to our photoshoot and gave us some homemade food! i think she had a lot of free time that day considering the tight schedule she has” he frowned.

he then read a few more comments until his eyes fell on yours, ‘i’d make sure to pack you homemade food everyday’ and smiled widely.

“since y/n is so free today, let’s call her!” he grabbed his phone and face-timed you. “y/n say hello to my lovely fans” he turned his phone and your face showed up.

“hello!” you giggled, “please give a lot of love and support to my sunoo” you waved. sunoo then turned his phone back and sent you a flying kiss before hanging up, “that was my girlfriend everyone”

— 정원 ✶ (jungwon)

as soon as jungwon sent you a text that his food arrived, you also got a notification that enhypen is live, and of course it was going to be jungwon.

he was talking and putting some songs, making a little mukbang for his fans. fans went crazy when they saw your comments, ‘jungwon said he was going to buy me food too but he went on live😒’

he noticed your comment only after his fans told him that you’re watching the live. “y/n….?” he asked and searched for your comment.

he chuckled to himself, “wait i’ll order you something now” he grabbed his phone and tapped some things.

“i’ll be ordering this for y/n” he showed his phone screen with a lot of food in the list, “eat well~” he smiled and continued to talk with his fans and enjoy his food.

— 니키 ✶ (niki)

he opened the live to casually talk about whatever with his fans. he likes to put songs at the background and give some song recommendations as well.

he was all dressed up today and was explaining where he’s heading after this live. you two barely talked that day since both of you are having a really tight schedule.

“i’ve been wanting to tell y/n this but we don’t have any time to talk lately” his smile dropped, “i miss having enough time to talk with her”

that was until he found you in the comments, ‘i miss you too! promise to video call you today🤍’ BOY WAS A BLUSHING MESS PFFFFFFFF

he spent the rest of the live sharing some cute memories of you and him together when you had the time to spend.

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Not So Grumpy (Part 2)

Part 1 Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader

Summary: Months after being introduced to the rookies, you get a chance to see them again. After your baby is born and Tim's grumpiness continues, you finally have a chance to properly meet them.

Warnings: grumpy!Tim is a softie for his wife and baby, there's a baby but no details about labor or anything, lots and lots of fluff, Wopez spoilers (s1-2)

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: This was better in my head. Oh well.

It’s been almost three months since Tim “introduced” you to the rookies. While you’ve been prepping the nursery, attending doctor’s appointments, and trying different stretches to prepare your body for labor, you haven’t seen Tim any more or less than usual. Halfway through your pregnancy, he got clingy with you and grumpy with everyone else. Though you haven’t been around the station recently, you assume that hasn’t changed. While thinking about Tim, you gasp and hold your stomach as you breathe through a contraction. You’re ready to meet your baby but still have a while to go. Plus, you have to make sure Tim is there. He’s grumpy enough without missing the birth of his first child.

You found the perfect onesie during your trip to the store and can’t wait to show Tim. You and Tim decided not to learn the gender of your baby, and the neutral-colored onesie with a police car and “My Dad’s a Superhero” made you smile, so you had to buy it. Plus, you’re experiencing contractions and miss Tim, so you drop by the station unannounced.

As you walk in, someone calls your name. You look up and smile when you see Angela Lopez waving.

“Hi, Officer Lopez,” you greet.

“Please, it’s Angela. Are you here to see Tim?”

“I am.”

“I don’t know where he is but come with me. We’ll find him.”

“Thank you.”

“How is everything? With Tim and the pregnancy?”

“Good. Baby’s healthy, Tim is amazing.”

Angela snorts before she tries to cover it with a cough. You don’t have time to ask her what is so funny before someone else says your name. At least you recognize the voice this time.

“Hi, Tim,” you reply with a smile.

He nods once before he takes your hand and leads you away from Angela. You wave over your shoulder, and she smiles knowingly.  Alone in an empty hallway, you extend the bag toward Tim. He takes it but sets it down to hug you before opening it.

“You okay?” you ask as he pulls you close.

“Better now,” he answers softly.

“I can’t imagine you being grumpy,” you answer, rubbing your hand along his spine.

“I miss you.”

“Just a few more weeks and then you’ll spend every minute with me and a baby. You’ll be begging to come back.”

Tim pulls back and rolls his eyes at you. You know he will be a great father because he’s already an amazing husband. Not that you’d admit it, but you’ve been counting the minutes until he gets to stay home with you and help you recover and care for your baby.

“Officer Bradford,” someone says at the end of the hallway.

You step back and take the onesie from Tim as he turns.

“What?” he replies shortly.

“Grey needs to see us in ten minutes,” Angela adds, pushing her rookie Jackson away from Tim.

“Then I’ll be there in ten minutes. For now, leave me alone.”

“Angela,” you say, stepping to Tim’s side. “Thanks for the gift. I really appreciate it.”

Tim takes a deep breath before thanking her. She sent a gift home with him months ago, even though she didn’t really know you.

“Of course. I’m glad you like it,” Angela replies.

“And I’d- we’d- love to have you over for dinner after everything settles down. And Jackson, Lucy, and Nolan can come too, if they’d like.”

“We can?” Lucy asks excitedly. She steps around the corner and looks at you rather than Tim’s glare.

“About time we get to meet properly, right?” you reply.

“I’m going to go tell them,” Lucy cheers before disappearing again.

“Don’t you dare,” Tim snaps. “You got an invite. Learn to keep personal matters personal, Chen.”

You wrap your hand around Tim’s forearm, and his shoulders drop as he exhales. There’s no apology, but he stops yelling at Lucy.

“Here,” you say.

Tim races to hold you as you bend down to retrieve the bag. He scolds you lovingly for moving too much before he takes it from your hand. You smile and nod toward the bag. Tim shakes his head in loving annoyance before pulling the onesie out. He holds it up to read it, and his face softens as every semblance of grumpiness disappears.

Throughout the progression of your pregnancy, as his paternity leave gets closer, Tim has grown less grumpy. Part of him hates that he has missed so much of your pregnancy, though, and that anger and disappointment comes out at work. As he folds the onesie and places it back in the bag, he pulls you against his side and kisses your temple.

“Superhero, huh?” he asks.

“We think so,” you answer.

Tim looks down at where your hand rests on your bump and covers your hand with his.

“I promise not to miss so much next time,” he whispers.

“You haven’t missed anything,” you assure him. “Make sure you’re at the hospital to catch the baby, that’s all I need.”

“I will be. I’ll be there the moment your water breaks.”

You smile and tilt your head to kiss Tim’s jaw. “Wait, next time?”

5 Months Later

“Hi, Angela!” you say as you open the door. You pull her into a hug before leading her toward the kitchen. “How’s everything with Wesley?”

“Good. I found out he’s, like, disgustingly rich, so that was something,” Angela answers.

“Interesting,” you agree. “And the mom situation?”

“Remedied. I can understand his side of it now, too.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Tim asks from the kitchen. “He’s a lawyer, that’s all I know, and I have to see Angela every day.”

“Have to see,” Angela scoffs. “We’re BFFs, just admit it.”

“No.”

Someone else knocks, and you remind Tim to be kind as you leave to invite everyone in. Lucy, Nolan, and Jackson are waiting excitedly at your door. Lucy hands you a small gift bag as she enters.

“Thank you,” you say. “Come on in. Kitchen’s this way.”

The baby monitor on the island blinks before your baby’s cries fill the kitchen.

“I got it,” Tim murmurs. He picks up the monitor and drags a hand across your back as he walks toward the nursery.

“Did you find a solution to the closet problem?” Lucy asks as she sits beside you. “Oh, and you look amazing by the way.”

“Thank you. And I did.” You chuckle before pointing out, “You text with questions about where to go for a second date and I’m asking about storage solution for newborn clothes.”

“Because you’re happily married and not destroying your apartment in an attempt to look good for a guy who calls you the wrong name,” Jackson adds.

“Jackson!” Lucy exclaims.

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

“You text them?” Tim asks as he returns with your baby in his arms.

“Oh my gosh,” Lucy coos at the sight.

Tim narrows his eyes at her before looking back at you.

“Yes, I do. You wouldn’t introduce us, so I took it into my own hands,” you answer. “You need anything?”

“Hey, how long have you guys been together?” Nolan asks.

“I don’t like this,” Tim complains as he returns to the kitchen.

“He’ll drop the act soon,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“It’s not an act,” Tim calls. “So, it will go away when they do!”

After your dinner company leaves, you take care of the dishes while Tim spends quality time with your baby. As you walk into the room, he extends an arm toward you. You make yourself comfortable against his side as Tim holds the baby against his chest. He may be grumpy with everyone but the two of you, but you wouldn’t change a thing, and Tim wouldn’t either.

“I love you,” you whisper in the comfort of your shared home and life.

“I love you,” Tim replies. “Enough that I can stop being grumpy.”

[andillneverbethesame]

omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?

looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33

so high school

❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

❥ warnings; none really

❥ word count; 1.2k

❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2

"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.

"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.

"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."

"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.

the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.

james frowned. "i don't like this game."

sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."

james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.

"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

——————————————————————

the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.

just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.

you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.

that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.

quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.

"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.

"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.

"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."

you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.

"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.

marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.

"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"

"truth."

the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."

"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."

"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.

mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.

"jamie, truth o—"

"dare."

a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.

"kiss y/n."

your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".

"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"

before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.

he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.

before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.

his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.

"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.

you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.

and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

——————————————————————

and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.

james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 

like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.

“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”

“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”

he shrugged. “you love me.”

oh, you did.

out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”

huh?

all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.

“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.

he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”

“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”

“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”

you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.

no one’s ever had you, not like him.

[astrae4]

A LADY’S GUIDE TO SECURING A MAN WITH BROAD SHOULDERS | park sungho

pairings — park sungho x reader (non idol au)

genre — (wc: 1.5k) fluff, romance 😼, strangers to lovers, fast-burn

warnings — ur kinda stalking him.. a bit…

note — HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SUNGHO!!! Guys i lowk want a man with shoulders as broad as his 🙁 is that too much to ask.. ALSO DANGEROUS WAS SO GOOD!!! The song teases too omg..right in my alley. I cannot wait for the album drop 😋😋

more works: navigation | bnd!masterlist

YOU SWEAR YOU’VE NEVER BEEN this interested in gyms before. Yeah, sure, you’re sporty. But gym sporty? Yeah no—that’s another level of torture.

Right now though…man you might just change your mind. You do one more bench press, super slow with your focus elsewhere—namely, the mirror on your right that shows a small reflection of the most scrumptious man you have ever seen in your life.

Those shoulders? Good gosh, they’d be perfect for your hands to rest on, agree?

(And the crowd screams yes!!!)

This was how you started being more consistent in the gym. Currently in week three and you’re so proud that you’re broken your world record of gym streaks.

You’ve decided then: you’re going to get him.

There was just one slight problem to this equation… you don’t have any courage to talk to him.

All you know are three facts:

His name was Park Sungho (how’d you know?you overheard a friend of his call him once. You’re not a creep, okay!!)

He had the most gorgeous shoulders known to mankind.

You want him.

Okay so maybe the third one isn’t really a fact—and you swear (cross your heart!) that your infatuation with him isn’t merely because his eyes are as twinkly as the moon, nor because his lips were plump and not crusty like most men, nor is it also because his voice is just…

Anyways! You get what I mean.

That was how you ended up ranting everything to your friend Sanghyeok—which apparently calls himself Riwoo now because he said he felt more cool and mysterious with that name. ( ok get it our nonchalant dread head!! )

“Park Sungho??” Asked Riwoo, startled once you blurted everything, “you mean the one with the pointy nose and sweet voice?”

You paused and raised an eyebrow at him, “duh? Have you been listening this whole time?”

“No not like that—you mean Park Sungho in class 19.99 right? He’s in your calculus class, dummy.”

“Wait—WHAT.”

Riwoo threw you a deadass stare, before fishing a muffin out his pocket and shoving his face in it. Perhaps he knew you too well as you started shaking him for answers.

”Just go approach him—”

”I can’t!”

”Then stop talking to me about it!”

“Please, my-Ri-to-the-woo—”

”UGH FINE! But no promises and you buy me a dozen donuts tomorrow.”

”Deal!”

You didn’t get him that dozen of donuts, but Lee Sanghyeok, being the good friend he is, still ended up conversing with his Sungho hyung in their shared dance class for you.

Luckily for you, he managed to score a hangout—the three of you—for next Wednesday over coffee and desserts.

Finally, with all the gears set in, you could start with ‘diary entry 1: A LADY’S GUIDE TO SECURING A MAN WITH BROAD SHOULDERS’

(yes, it’s meant to be this long)

1. A lady hints, not talks

The first ever step-slash-rule to secure a man is to give hints. Yes, hints. No way are YOU the one to make the first move, you hear me ladies? 😒 If he doesn’t pick up on the clues, then you drop!

Wednesday came. And boy, it came with a lot of nervousness, I tell you! But you were ready. Dropped in the cutest fit you have—a pair of jeans with a puffy dress on top (THIS COMBO>>>)—you were absolutely ready to charm Park Sungho.

It took you a while, but you made it on time (5 minutes late) to the cafe, Riwoo and Sungho conversing already at a table near the windows. Riwoo was the first to see you, sending a wave. You returned it, and right after, Sungho sent you one too—albeit less dramatic. Your smile turned up a bit more before sending a smaller wave back to him.

”Hi guys! Sorry if I’m late.”

”It’s okay, we just came,” replied Riwoo, “this is Sungho, my friend in Dance. Sungho, this is my best friend, [reader]”

Sungho stood up to shake your hand, and you both exchanged ‘nice to meet you’(s).

”Let me get coffee real quick!” You told them, before going to the cashier.

After you ordered, you went back to your seat.

“How are you these days, [reader]?” asked Riwoo

”Good, although I think I overworked my feet yesterday, It hurts slightly,” you replied, which by the way, was a big fat lie.

“Ah, is it doing better now?” asked Sungho, who was deeply concerned.

”It should be, I think,” you replied shortly.

More small talk was made before your order number got called. You went up to get it but before you could fully stand—

“I’ll get it for you, [reader],” answered Sungho.

“Huh?” both you and Riwoo replied in shock.

“You should rest your feet since they might still be in pain if you overexert it,” he replied simply.

“Oh there’s really no need, Sungho—“ you denied at first despite the fact that you were internally giggling.

“Please, I insist,” He replied with a smile that almost melted you on the spot, before taking your receipt and heading to the cashier.

It was silent for a moment before your eyes met Riwoo’s, and his met yours. Both of you kicked each other’s feet before suppressing a big fat grin.

2. a lady takes no risks

consult God (or a fortune teller if you’re not religious) to make sure this man is for you. Use the mind, not the heart.

“Okay,” You muttered to yourself like a nutjob, “IF. And only IF he is the one…um..” you paused your prayer for a second because you had no idea what to say.

You decided to just settle for the classic, “Please send me a sign, amen.”

And with that, you fixed your hair and applied pink lip gloss before leaving the house.

Step after steps, you kept thinking of him until you reached the actual library. You took a deep breath before going in. You were early this time, but it seems that Park Sungho has a matter of showing up super early, because he’s already there—sitting in a seat near the windows.

He had his back facing you, so you snuck up on him quietly before placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Sungho,” you muttered quietly, and he jolted, spinning around to look at you fast.

Were you delusional, or is he staring at you?

“Sungho..?” you repeated.

That seemed to jolt him out of his state, “Oh, [reader]—yes, sorry for that. I was out of it—“

You giggled before taking a seat beside him, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

There wasn’t much small talk after that, as you both seemed focused and determined to do well on your project. Mid-way, however, a crash followed by a yelp took you out of your very focused state. You turned to see Sungho—only, a book fell on top of his head.

“Sorry!” said a boy above you looking down on the rails. You both seemed to recognize him as Myung Jaehyun, who’s also in your shared calc class together.

“Why that—“ said Sungho, before he gives you a quick brb and went upstairs; probably to murder Jaehyun.

You picked up the book on the ground, and then stilled when you read the title.

‘The Sign’ by Robert Van Kampen.

Oh.

I mean, you’re not opposing now, are you?

3. A lady enjoys the reaps that she sowed

Get rizzed up all night by a nice guy (stream nice guy!!!)

“I love your shoulders,” you muttered at him, a hand on his bicep.

2 months had passed since you first dated each other.

”Oh yeah?” He replied, but his words seemed unfocused and disconnected—I mean, who can blame him when you’re sitting on him, looking so cute after you both just made out.

“Mhm,” you answered once more.

”Tell me more,” He asked.

You did, but midway you realized he was just looking over your lips—not paying attention. You rolled your eyes.

“Are you even list—“

He cut you off with another kiss. It lasted a while before he pulled away once more.

”Can’t believe I’m yours,” He whispered, smiling goofily.

You giggled. Yeah, Park Sungho’s yours. The man with broad shoulders is yours.

TAGLIST: @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse

NETWORKS: @k-labels @onedoornet

© astrae4 2024 — please don't copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[wearebarca]

8. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 6,1k

Warnings: 18+ Smut

A/N: Feedback is always nice. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy

Rosalie knew all about stress. She had experienced a very wide variety of stressful situations. From race days to big games to work related situations, even personal stuff. But right now, sitting half naked in her bed with an array of clothes around her, Rosalie was experiencing a different type of stress. 

She had spent time with some of the girls from the team but it always was in very casual circumstances. Tonight was different. They were set to go to a popular club in downtown Barcelona and from what she had translated in the groupchat, the girls were excited to show off their outfits. Rosalie wasn’t a big fan of clubs and bars and her wardrobe cruelly lacked in any club worthy outfits.

She was currently stuck between a few options but after sending each outfit to her groupchat with lia and leah, she settled for a short sleeve dress that exposed her back dangerously low. She left her wavy hair loose and did her makeup slightly darker than usual. 

She was taking one last look into her bedroom mirror, feeling quite proud of the way it all turned out, when her phone rang and Keira’s name lit up her screen. 

“Bonsoir petite merde.” She said laughing, knowing damn well that the blonde did not know what she had just called her. Lucy’s laugh could be heard in the distance, which told the brunette that the couple was likely close and calling to let her know. 

“That was unnecessary.”

“Don’t act like you know what I just said.”

“Lucy’s reaction told me plenty.” Keira said exasperated. “We’re rounding the corner, the bar is a block from here so we’ll park in your street and walk from there is that alright?”

“Sounds good.” Rosalie said, putting away her makeup. 

“We’re coming up so you better be dressed and ready.” Lucy said, the sound of a car door audible in the background. 

“Oui madame.” The Canadian said before hanging up. A few minutes later, the couple barged in her little flat, and the sound of her cabinets being opened and glasses being set down on the counter was heard all around. 

“By all means, Faites comme chez vous!”

“We're fixing you a drink, believe me you’ll need it.” Keira said, pouring an impressive amount of liquor in three glasses. She made a move to reach for the bottle of coke but the Canadian quickly stopped her. 

“Non non non. You are not wasting this perfectly good whiskey with coke.” She said, reaching for two glasses and handing one to Lucy. Keira rolled her eyes and poured some in her glass nonetheless. 

“You two are a different breed that’s for sure.” The burn from the alcohol soothed the brunette’s nerves a little as she downed her first glass with Lucy, quickly pouring another for the older woman and herself. 

“You’re packed for national camp already?” Kiera asked, eyeing the bags near the front door.

“ Oui, I have a feeling that tomorrow I won’t be in the right state to pack a proper bag.” Rosalie said, sipping at the brown liquid. 

“ Smart Frenchy, very smart. The flight is at 9 the next day, we’ll be downstairs at 6:00 and grab coffee on our way there. Sarina sent me your plane ticket by the way.” Lucy said, twirling the liquor in her glass. The French-Canadian nodded and took a seat next to the blond englishwoman. 

“So, what is the plan, how is the night going to go?” The brunette said, taking a sip of her drink. 

“We’re gonna walk to the club, it’s only three blocks away.” Lucy said, eyeing Keira up with a mischievous grin, the blond sporting a similar look. “And for the rest, you’ll have to see for yourself mate.” 

They finished their drinks and left Rosalie’s flat soon after. The air was warm  and a fresh breeze carried the smell of food from the many restaurants along with the sound of laughter and many conversation blending in the night. The streets were alive, buzzing with people, relieved for the start of the weekend. 

Someone linking their arm with hers pulled Rosalie out of her thoughts. “You look amazing Frenchy, you gunnin for someone in particular tonight?” Keira said, twirling the French-Canadian like a dancer.

“Non, non, I don’t know what you are referring to.” Rosalie said, walking slightly faster to meet Lucy ahead.

“You know,” The older English woman began, “Looking like that, the cold and composed captain’s surely gonna lose control.” She said, hugging the Canadian’s shoulder. Rosalie’s face went beat red and she pushed Lucy off of her. By now, they could hear the distant beat of music and the traffic in the streets increasing.

The club was situated on a small pedestrian side street. A long queue of people was stretched in front of the already busy club. Most of the crowd waiting looked and sounded already under the influence which worked to the little group’s advantage as they were able to make their way to the bouncer without being recognized. 

Once their little group reached the door with Lucy leading them, the bouncer stepped in front of them to block the way. Once his eyes met with Lucy’s, the realization on the young man’s face was almost comical. “Oh, yes, VIP section.” He said with a nervous falter to his voice. He crossed two names on his clipboard then, looked up to the woman who was unknown to him. “ Is she the photographer?”

His tone did not please Lucy who sent him a look that chilled him on the spot. He made a gesture for the doorman to let them in, eager to move on before embarrassing himself further.

The club was already packed, the music deafening and the air was filled with the smell of alcohol and sweat. It was electric, dizzying even, for the French-Canadian who had not set foot in a club this big since she had left England. 

One thing she quickly remembered upon entering was just how much she hated these places. Her discomfort was almost funny to the two English women standing behind her. She made a move to back out but Lucy and Keira each grabbed one of the photographer’s arms and walked the brunette to an area at the back of the club with several sofas, tables and the entire team already halfway to their second drink.

When the girls saw their beloved photographer they all stood and cheered. Soon enough, Rosalie was being handed a drink and dragged by Mapi to a couch which was already occupied by Sarah, Ingrid, Sandra, Pina, Patri and Alexia. The little group all cheered and whistled at the sight of their friend, but Alexia stayed almost completely still. The only part of her moving was her piercing gaze taking in every inch of the brunette.

The captain knew that tonight would be hard. She had imagined many scenarios of how this night would go. She had told herself countless times how she needed to stay friendly and professional with the smaller brunette,but upon seeing the photographer in that dress, Alexia seemed to forget every word of her little pep talk.

The way that her dress hugged her athletic figure made the captain’s head spin. The photographer turned around and gave the captain a full view of the open back of said dress. She knew that the smaller woman had tattoos because of the small ones on her arms, but she had never seen the one that went along her spine. It was a fine line which seemed to follow no particular pattern. It snaked down her spine, like a path, all the way to her lower back. All Alexia wanted to do was trace the line with her fingers, with her mouth, kiss every inch of inked skin. 

The blond rapidly shook her head, cursing herself for letting her mind go to such places so soon after the woman’s arrival. Even then, it seemed impossible for her gaze not to be dragged back to the woman in front of her. Her hair was down in waves, her makeup darker than normally which accentuated her piercing green eyes. Eyes that were now settled on her.

Alexia sent a shy smile her way as she raised her glass in the photographer’s direction. She answered with a bright smile and a similar gesture. Rosalie was already feeling the effects of the alcohol, thanks to the fact that she rarely drank, but the slight buzz gave her all the courage she needed to take a seat right next to the woman who made her so nervous. 

“ Bonsoir Alexia, I am surprised to see you with a drink. I thought you didn’t drink during the season.” She said, eying the glass the blond had been nurturing since the start of the night. 

“Tonight is special I hear.”

“Yeah, it certainly seems so” Their conversation was cut short by Cata with a tray of what looked like tequila shots. Rosalie turned towards the keeper, which made her almost face the blond, the warm skin of her exposed thigh lean on Alexia’s own. 

“ It’s shot time chicas!” Yelled as she passed around the small glasses. She handed one to Alexia who refused, disappointing the keeper slightly. With the feeling of her first drinks already strong, Rosalie decided that tonight, she did not need to be careful. Tonight, she would let herself have fun surrounded by people who were quickly becoming family. 

She reached over Alexia to pick up the shot Cata was handing her, placing her other hand on Alexia’s thigh to stabilize herself. That movement alone, the light squeeze of her hand, how for an instant Alexia’s senses were swarmed by the photographer. Her floral perfume mixed with something that was so unmistakably Rosalie. How her hair fell all on one side exposing the soft skin of her neck. 

Alexia had to take a deep breath to try and re centre herself. “Dios mio dame uno de esos.” She said to Mapi who had ended up with the tray. 

The tattooed woman sent her a knowing smirk as she watched her nervous friend down to harsh liquid. 

The start of the night was slow. People were mostly sitting around and chatting. Rosalie was surprised to see how comfortable she was in such an environment, but with the buzzing of the alcohol in her system and her friends surrounding her, it was easy to forget how loud and full the club was.

 She was still on the same couch, in between Alexia and Ingrid. She would not admit it but being this close to the captain was unnerving for the photographer who tried very hard to not show it. But of course Alexia, purposefully or not, made the task extremely difficult. 

Engaged in a conversation with Mapi, who was on the other side of Ingrid, the Catalonian had her arm on the back of the couch, and was sitting back in a way that made the brunette feel like if she moved back an inch, she’d be leaning completely on the blond’s front. 

Suddenly, someone a few seats down screamed something in Spanish and several of the girls cheered and left their secluded area towards the dance floor. Before she could react, someone grabbed her hand and dragged her to the floor. 

“Oh non non I don’t dance.” She told the girl who still had a firm grip on her wrist. 

“Tonight you do amiga!” The voice, who she soon realized belonged to Patri, said, as she dragged her towards a small group of Barca girls already dancing. Seeing the smiles and hearing the contagious laughter was what ultimately allowed the photographer to let loose and start moving to the rhythm of the music. No one was judging, it was simply a group of friends having fun and enjoying a night out. 

From the VIP area, Alexia, Ingrid, Irene and Paños had a pretty clear view of the rest of the team. None of them were keen on dancing and had stood their ground against the younger players and exited girlfriend, in Ingrid’s case. 

The Norwegian was smiling as she watched Mapi show off her most ridiculous dance moves to Rosalie who, with obvious difficulty, was trying to keep up with the Zaragozian. 

It took at least a song for the group to utter any words. After a moment, it was Sandra who disrupted their little bubble in the middle of this hectic environment. She grabbed Irene’s shoulder and dragged her closer so she wouldn’t have to yell. 

“This pining has to stop.” She said to her friend while watching the blond who’s gaze had not left the brunette since she had left. 

“Ah si, it is excruciating to watch.” 

“You know what we discussed in Sevilla? You think it is a good time to use this.” Sandra said, watching the way Alexia’s jaw tightened every time one of the girls was dancing  too close to the Canadian. 

“Si, it is now or never,” she said, sending a look to the blond, she laughed and turned back to the keeper, “ it won’t take much, she’s already on the brink.”

The Spaniards quickly briefed Ingrid in their little plan and soon after, it was set to motion. 

“Ale! Come on! We all know you want to go out there.” Sandra said as she sat down next to the midfielder. 

“No no I can’t dance you know that.” She said, finally tearing her gaze away from Rosalie. 

“We all know you want to get out there with her.” Sandra said, leaning back on the couch while twirling the straw in her drink. “Who could blame you, look at her.”

As if on cew, the song changed to a slower beat, which had the brunette change the pace from fun and electric to swaying her hips to match the more sensual beat of the song.  

“Oh believe me I am looking.” The captain said under her breath, but the comment did jot go unnoticed by the keeper. 

“You should go before someone else swipes her away.” Alexia didn’t move. She looked deep in thought. When the goalkeeper realized that the blond wouldn’t move, she got up and started to walk towards the dance floor, but stopped right before exiting the Vip section. 

“Your loss captain.” 

Rosalie was smiling and she could not stop. She could feel the base all the way through her bones and it was like her body had a mind of its own. Gone was the stress that was clawing at her at the start of the night, all she could feel was the rhythm of the music guiding her movements. 

She was currently dancing with Salma and Pina when she felt a hand settle on her waist and the heat of an unfamiliar presence behind her. She knew right away that the mysterious woman was not Alexia, but judging by the face the girls with her made, it was one of their own. 

Rosalie did not think much of it. She just kept following the beat of the music, letting the warm hands guide her. As time passed , the general fun and carefree vibe of the club changed for something heavier, a lot more seductive. 

The hands on her waist got bolder, pulling the photographer closer. Rosalie spun around, having guessed the identity of the taller woman behind her, and hooked her arms around the keeper’s neck. 

“Not the person you were expecting right?” She said with a big smile on her face. 

“No, but I am not mad about this either.”She answered with a matching smile. There was no need to argue her case. She knew that the goalkeeper was aware of what was going on. Rosalie might be on the dance floor, but she was completely aware of Alexia’s eyes on her and she had seen Sandra attempt to convince the captain to come out on the floor. 

Paños leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of the brunette’s ear. “She’s watching us now.”

On instinct, Rosalie pressed herself even closer to the keeper. “Do you trust me?” She asked, leaving a kiss at the junction of her neck and collarbone. The contact sent shivers down her spine. 

Unable to respond, the Canadian simply nodded and focused on the feeling of the base travelling her body. 

They kept dancing like this for a while, with Sandra making sure that the photographer was comfortable every time her hands wandered. Ingrid, who was still sitting between Irene and Alexia, sent a look to the older woman. She could not believe the nerves her teammates had. 

Alexia was livid. She was sitting on the couch, completely rigid, her cold gaze pinned on the goalkeeper, her jaw tensing with every kiss laid on the brunette’s neck and every time her hands roamed a little too low. 

As if Sandra knew, she lifted her gaze and held Alexia’s head on, daring her almost to come and interrupt her.

 “How long do you think it’ll take before she storms on the dance floor?” Ingrid subtly asked, her eyes not leaving the captain.

“Any moment now.” Irene said. She felt a little bad for her friend, but she also knew that the captain needed a little push to go after what she wanted. 

What  made the captain snap was when Rosalie turned around in the goalkeeper’s arms and finally made eye contact with the blond. Her hips were swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music, the movement almost hypnotic to the footballer. And while Sandra was still pressed up against her, holding her waist and caressing the skin exposed by her dress, the photographer was looking at Alexia like she wished it was her. 

Even in the arms of another, very beautiful woman, all Rosalie wanted was the midfielder. This was what did it for Alexia. That look, filled with desire, inviting her to come and claim what could be hers if she so pleased. 

In a matter of seconds, the footballer had managed to make her way through the crowd and grab Rosalie by the hand, ripping her away from the goalkeeper, who was already grinning at her teammates still on the couch. 

“Ale! What are you doing?” The Canadian asked as she allowed the catalonian woman to drag her towards the back of the club. The captain didn’t answer, she simply kept walking, never letting go of the woman’s hand. They passed several of their teammates who all had the same expression on their faces, knowing very well that they would not see the two of them for the rest of the night.

The club bathrooms were individual stalls with their own sinks. Alexia could not be more glad for this fact as she dragged the photographer behind and closed the door, locking them in.  

For an instant, they both stayed silent, Alexia never letting go of the other woman's hand. A second later, this moment of stillness was interrupted by an intense pull, a need to finally close the space between them.

Alexia was the first to move, drawing Rosalie closer and tangling her hand in the brunette’s hair. As soon as Rosalie’s lips made contact with Alexia’s, a sight came out of her, as if her body had been waiting for this moment all night. Their kiss was frantic, sloppy almost, with every movement controlled solely by intense desire. Alexia pushed  the photographer until her back suddenly hit the bathroom door, which made the woman gasp. The small sound gave the blond the opportunity to press her tongue inside Rosalie’s eager mouth. She tasted of alcohol and something that could only be her and Alexia decided that she definitely needed more. 

Her hands left Rosalie’s hair and started to roam downward, along her sides all the way to her hips. Rosalie could feel her skin ignite everywhere Alexia touched. 

The door knob was digging in the brunette’s back but she couldn't care less about it right now. The way the blond was currently attacking her lips was electric and the feeling of her hands getting bolder had the photographer reeling as she hooked one of her legs around the midfielder, dragging her impossibly closer.  

The change of angle had the blond’s thigh wedged itself between the photographer’s, giving her the perfect opportunity to grind down on her leg. The shift of the muscles, along with the movement of her hips, dragged a loud moan from the brunette, which was swallowed in a hungry kiss. 

This new position had Rosalie’s dress hike up significantly, revealing the skin of her thighs and stopping just below her waist. Alexia’s hand moved down to explore the new expense of skin as her lips kissed down her neck, nipping slightly at the skin. 

Rosalie’s head lolled back , hitting the door with a dull thud. Her body was on fire. All of her senses were overwhelmed by the captain. The smell of her expensive perfume mixed with her strawberry shampoo was intoxicating. The taste of her lips on hers, the feel of her calloused hands traveling on her body. She knew her panties were most definitely ruined by now. 

“Ale, we should..” the rest of her sentence was cut short by a gasp as she could feel Alexia’s fingers graze just past the fabric of her pantie.  

The blond pulled back, her hand retreating from her spot under her dress. “Are you ok, do you want me to stop?” She asked with concern. 

Rosalie’s answer came fast. “ Non non, god no.” She said, grabbing the blond’s face and pulling her in for a kiss. “ I just think we should take this somewhere more comfortable, if you want.”

Alexia didn’t need to be asked twice. In less than five minutes, the duo was exiting the club and walking towards the photographer’s flat. The walk was mostly silent, but filled with tension so thick you could cut through with a butterknife. 

Finding her keys at the bottom of her bag seemed like an impossible task when the brunette could almost feel Alexia’s hot breath on the back of her head. She almost dropped the set of keys when the blond grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against her front.

“ Sérieusement Alexia give me a chance.” She said, dropping her keys this time when soft lips grazed her neck. Alexia chuckled as she took a step back, allowing the brunette to compose herself a little before unlocking. 

As soon as the door is opened, Rosalie is dragged inside and pushed against the closed door, much like her previous position in The club bathroom. But this time, the blond waits to connect her lips to Rosalie’s. 

Alexia takes a deep breath and wills her hands from wandering from their spot on the brunette’s hips. Their foreheads connect, lips only millimeters apart. Rosalie can almost taste them. All she needed to do was lean in a little more, but she was afraid to break the stillness, the intensity of the moment. 

“Rosalia, are you sure?” Alexia whispered, softly. She tried to surge forward and capture the captain’s lips, thinking that actions were stronger than words, but was stopped by the taller woman pulling away and pinning her harder against the door. 

“No no bonita I need to hear you say it.” She said in a low voice, as her lips were ghosting on the sensitive skin of her neck. She smiled, well aware of the effect she had on the brunette and revelled in the way she could feel her breath quickening and hear the soft moans that escaped the brunette’s lips. 

Control was becoming an issue for the captain as well as she fought to not just rip off that beautiful dress and take her here and now, against her apartment door. Alexia’s lips moved down, close enough for Rosalie to feel the heat of her breath but not enough to actually feel the press of her lips on her skin. 

Finally she reached where the hem of her dress sat at the base of her neck. She nipped at the spot right at the base of Rosalie’s throat, swiping her tongue on the newly formed bruise to soothe the skin. 

Forming a coherent sentence was an impossible task for the photographer at the moment. She reached out to pull the midfielder further in but was stopped before her hands could get to the back of her head. 

“Tell me you want this and I’ll do anything you want.” 

“Please Ale, I need you.” It was like a switch was flipped. She grabbed the back of the photographer’s thighs and hoisted her up. The brunette let out a slight laugh as she let the footballer carry her to the bedroom. 

She laid her down gently on the cover and stood up at the feet of the bed. Rosalie leaned back on her elbows, green eyes meeting hazel as the blonde’s gaze softened.

 “Eres tan hermosa.” She all but whispered before laying down and capturing the brunette’s lips once more. Gone was the urgency from before, but the passion between the two was still burning strong. 

Rosalie’s breath came out ragged as she could feel the blond’s lips kiss and suck at the skin just below her pulse point. In a surge of desire, she pulled at the bottom of the midfielder’s top, needing to finally feel the heat of her skin first hand. Alexia somehow managed to rid herself of the fabric fast enough that it was like her lips had never left.

“Can I take this off, bonita?” She asked gently as her hands were fiddling with the bottom of her dress. 

The answer came with the photographer arching her back, giving Alexia the necessary space to push the dress upwards and finally allow the blonde to marvel at the newly exposed skin. Alexia almost growled at the sight of the photographer, left only in a black lacy tong, hair tousled and eyes dark and clouded by desire. 

She kissed down the valley of her breast, lightly biting at the skin before soothing the bite with her tongue. Her hand travelled up to cup her breast while her mouth explored freely.

She took her time, kissing every inch, worshiping the photographer, showing her just how much she wanted her. Rosalie on the other hand, was reeling. She could feel her arousal pooling in her panties. She needed more. She whined and pushed Alexia’s head down in hopes that the blonde would understand the message, but the captain had other plans. She grazed her nipple with her teeth before biting down, which sent a shock straight to her core. 

The moan that came out of the photographer’s lips was loud 

Alexia’s hand travelled down until she reached the hem of the lacy fabric. There was still a part at the back of Rosalie's mind which was embarrassed about what would the blonde discover when her fingers would dip lower. 

“What do you want, amor?” She said with a smirk plastered on her face. 

“Please touch me.” The photographer whimpered. 

“I am touching you.” She said, while she slipped down the bed to settle between the brunette's legs.

 That confident, cocky side of her, the one that shone bright when she wore the red and blue kit along with the arm band, was peaking through as she gazed up at the smaller woman. Rosalie couldn’t believe that this woman had not been remotely close to where she needed her the most and she already had her begging. 

Her hands were now caressing the smooth skin of her tights, squeezing her flesh, making the woman beneath her gasp at the feeling.  

« Please I need to feel you. » reaching down only to have her hands pinned down on the bed. « I want your mouth on me, Ale please. » 

“Ok bonita, lift your hips for me.”  She said, hooking her fingers in the waistband of her panties and slipping them down her legs. 

“Oh look at you baby.” The sight with which she was met was nothing short of heavenly. Her lips were glistening with arousal and Alexia could not help but leave a soft kiss right where Rosalie desperately needed contact. 

“All this for me?”

“Oui, all for you.” The photographer said, lifting her head just enough to watch the midfielder finally lick down the length of her slit. She groaned at how her taste flooded her mouth, the vibration sending shockwaves through the brunette. 

“You taste so good,” Her tongue found her clit and lapped gently and parts your lips with her tongue, collecting her juice at the same time.

 Alexia is attentive to every breath hitch, whimper and moan coming from the brunette, reading her like an open book. It didn’t take long before Rosalie had lost all control of her own body and mind. All her senses were in overdrive, but there was something missing. 

Alexia’s lips captured her clit and sucked lightly at the bundle of nerves. Rosalie saw stars clouding her vision. “ fuck Alexia s’il te plait,  don’t stop.”

The mix of French and the pleading only motivated the blonde even more as she focused on her clit, altering between tight circles and sucking at the flesh. 

“ Ale..” she said before a long moan interrupted her sentence. 

“Que necesitas, bonita?” 

“More,” She simply was not able to form a sentence in the state she currently was. Alexia’s hand left her hips to travel down between her legs and tease at her entrance. 

“Is this what you want?” She asked smugly. 

“Yes! Oui please.” Alexia smiled at the brunette’s eagerness and could not do anything but oblige after the photographer had asked so nicely. Her mouth fell open as her fingers finally stretched her. 

Her name was on her lips, chanting it like a prayer. Her hand was desperately grasping at anything she could reach before finally finding and intertwining her fingers with Alexia’s free hand. The feel of her climax was approaching fast, like an all-consuming fire ready to swipe everything in its wake. 

Her legs tensed, around the captain’s head and she could feel her walls clenching around her fingers. Her hips started to buck against her face.

“You are doing so good for me bonita.” She said before curling her fingers, reaching the spot inside her that

She lifted her leg on her shoulder and curled her fingers deeper inside her. The change in angles allowing the captain to reach a spot deep inside her that had the photographer completely lose it. Her heel was digging in the blonds back but she couldn't care less. Every swipe of her tongue, along with the steady thrust of her fingers brought her that much closer to the edge. Alexia could feel just how close by the way her walls were clenching, making it harder to keep her rhythm.

The brunette could hear Alexia speak to her softly in what she thought was Catalan. She couldn’t understand a word but it didn’t matter, the hushed soft sound of her voice alone was enough to guide her over the edge. 

Alexia slowed down her trust but kept her mouth on her, lapping up everything the brunette was giving her. It had been a strong one. The kind that completely short circuited her brain and left her body limp on the sheets. When the feeling became too much, she pulled at Alexia’s hand to drag her up to her lips. The kiss was soft and slow, full of appreciation and a feeling that Rosalie was not quite ready to name yet. 

They stayed quiet for a moment. Alexia’s head against the photographer’s chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. “Are you ok, Rosalia?”

Rosalie smiled and took a deep breath before shifting their position, ending up on top of the captain. The sudden movement stunned the footballer who let out a gasp as she found herself trapped under the smaller woman. “ qué estás haciendo…” 

Rosalie didn’t wait for the end of her sentence and crashed her lips on Alexia. A new fire had ignited once the shock of her orgasm had faded. She wanted to make the blond feel as good as she just had. 

“You don’t have to…”

“Non non, none of that.” The brunette said as her lips travelled down her neck to the valley of her breast. “I want to taste you Alexia, will you let me?.” She asked, looking up to the footballer. She looked so good at this moment, her hands caressing down her hips, hair cascading down one side, a silent question written in her eyes. Alexia groaned at the sight. 

“Si, si, I want you to.” She said, as her head fell back on the pillow and her arms came up, covering her face. Rosalie’s lips connected with Alexia’s chest, teasing the skin with her teeth and soothing the bites with a kiss. They travelled down to Alexia’s abdomen where they were met with taunt muscles which twitched with every kiss and drag of her tongue. 

This was probably Rosalie’s favorite part of the footballer. She remembered every time she had caught herself almost drooling when the midfielder would raise her shirt to wipe some sweat off her forehead, leaving her abs exposed. Now, Rosalie was finally able to map out every crease and ridge of her stomach.

She could see that the blond was growing restless underneath her, and she too, could not wait any longer. She slid down between the blond’s legs, spreading them slightly to accommodate her, and left a kiss at the waistband of her pants. Alexia lifted her hips, chasing the warmth of her mouth, which allowed the brunette to tug down her jeans and panties. Once free from the barrier between the brunette’s lips and her most sensitive parts, Alexia grabbed a handful of her hair and guided her towards where she desperately needed her. But Rosalie had other plans in mind, as she skillfully avoided the women's center, opting to kiss and leave little bite marks on the skin of her inner thighs. 

A harsher tug pulled a moan from the photographer as she was brought back right in front of Alexia’s glistening heat. Green eyes met hazel, a teasing smirk dancing on the Canadian’s lips as she watched the captain slowly lose composure. 

The first swipe of her tongue felt like heaven. Rosalie went slow, savoring what had officially become her favourite taste. She drew lazy circles around her clit, slowly working up the blond who seemed completely lost in the feeling. The carefulness with which she had previously touched the photography was gone. Her fingers were now firmly anchored in her hair, tugging and pulling every time Rosalie’s tongue swiped down to tease at her entrance. She was essentially grinding down on her tongue, chasing her high which was rapidly approaching.

Rosalie was contempt with the predicament she was currently in, happy to be used for the captain's pleasure. She was attentive to her reaction, switching from sucking at her clit to flattening her tongue before swiping down to finally breach inside. The groan that came out of the blond’s mouth was surely the most erotic sound the photographer had ever heard, and she made it her mission to be the cause of more of these addictive sounds. 

Her peak was approaching fast. Her grip on reality fading rapidly as she was consumed by the feeling of the photographer’s hot mouth on her. She opened her mouth, trying to tell the brunette to keep going, that she was close, that her tongue felt so good on her, that she was being so good for her, but she did not know if she had been successful in speaking clearly. Hell she didn’t even know in what language she had spoken, but it didn’t matter. Rosalie seemed to know exactly what to do to make Alexia completely lose it.

Her climax came suddenly. It washed on her like a dangerous wave that drags you under and leaves you thinking you’ll never breach the surface again. Every part of her tensed to the point where it was almost painful, but Rosalie didn’t stop, she only slowed down her ministrations, helping the woman come down slowly. Rosalie kissed up Alexia’s body, before laying down next to her. Her breathing was slowly coming down as she wrapped her arms around the brunette’s shoulder and pulled her in. 

“Was this ok?” The brunette asked shyly, as if she had not been buried between the woman’s trembling legs minutes ago.

“Dios mio, Rosalia si, it was more than ok, this was divine bonita.” The blond said, turning her head and kissing the photographer softly. Rosalie smiled as she buried her face in the blond’s neck. Soon enough, the photographer's breath started to even out, her body feeling heavier in the midfielder’s arms. She kissed her head before too, succumbing to the heavy pull of sleep.

[temis-de-leon]

Love potion and OM! Brothers - Part 1

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)

Intro , Part 2 , Part 3

Masterlist

CW: only fluff here, a little bit of jealousy, a little suggestive (nothing sexual), i like the idea of Mammon and MC in the shower, brothers here are crushing hard and it's implied MC is crushing hard too, pre-established relationship and nothing else i think?

Please enjoy!

Lucifer

The Avatar of Pride doesn't prance, Lucifer thought trying to correct his gaut with no success. After all, how often did he have so little work to do and so much free time?

Did the stars align themselves to give him such an opportunity? Did Father see the weight on his shoulders and finally had some pity on his wayward son?

Whatever the reason was, he was thankful for it.

His desk was clean, stacks of paperwork filled and categorized in neat piles. No last moment phonecalls from Diavolo nor Barbatos, no vengeful witches knocking on the door, no janitors complaining over sudden floods.

He'd only be happier if you were there with him, sharing a glass of Demonus or dancing in the privacy of his room. Should he organize a date? Make everything perfect or let everything flow as naturally as possible, holding your hand and kissing your knuckles and letting his feelings be known?

Before he realized, Lucifer was at your door. A warm feeling coated his heart when he smelled the expensive fragrance of your perfume (a gift from him, may he add).

"MC?"

He couldn't wait, already imagining you in your favorite outfit, smiling at him the way you always did while you accepted having him as your partner. He'd kiss you then, if you let him, and he'd go to bed a thousand times happier than the day before.

But he had to ask you out first.

He knocked again, suspecting you were wearing your headphones at maximum volume. Carefully, not wanting to give you a heart attack and risk what could be a perfect evening, Lucifer called out your name one last time and opened the door.

To his surprise, your room was completely empty. Pillows scattered on the carpet and candles shining under the leaves of the magic tree, but no human on sight. However, the smell was stronger than ever.

He realized soon where it came from and he wasted no time inhaling the scent as much as he could with a lovestruck look on his face. He hoped none of his brothers came barging through the door; it was the last thing he needed.

What were you making, MC? Perhaps a substitute for the bottle he gifted you a couple of months ago? Did you already run out of it? Oh, how honored you made him feel!

Lucifer sat next to the cauldron, closing his eyes and picturing you next to him. His hands twitched, wishing to touch you and hold you close, and his heart violently pumped against his chest at the idea of ending the day having his feelings reciprocated.

He'd never felt this much peace.

Mammon

"Oi! MC!"

The door flew open, bouncing against the wall and making the hinges cry, but Mammon didn't even flinch. His smile disappeared and he brought his hands to his hips. Where were you?

He entered the room in search for you, checking the bed, the bathroom and even the wardrobe. Who knows? Maybe you got locked inside. Humans were dumb like that!

"MC! You better come out if you want The Great Mammon to take you out for dinner! It's a one time opportunity!"

You didn't appear, however, and now he stood in the middle of your room in awkwardness. He could smell your shampoo, your shower gel and your body cream, but the bath was completely dry. The cauldron on the table was cold, too. You must've been out for a long while.

You weren't out with any of his brothers, were you? You couldn't! If you were out with anybody, it should be him!

He sent you a message and not even a minute later, too impatient to wait for a reply, he called you, but you didn't answer. And how could you answer? Your DDD was hidden under the mountain of pillows and discarded clothes on the floor!

Yes, his room was also kind of a disaster, but that was different, okay?!

There was no way you were out of the house without your DDD, so you probably were in the kitchen or, if your luck was out, getting reprimanded by Lucifer for whatever stupid reason he found.

Loudly sighing, Mammon threw himself over the bed and breathed your scent in. He couldn't avoid thinking of you dressed only in one of those baby pink towels Asmo gifted you when you arrived. The image of your hands massaging the body cream over your naked body made fun of him, not wanting to disappear no matter how hard he tried.

Were you able to reach your back? Has anyone ever done that for you, feeling your skin and the muscles underneath? Feeling your body sink and melt under his fingers? Shivering under his touch the moment he called you his treasure?

Mammon opened his eyes, not realizing until then how lost he was in his imagination. Even his fingers were rubbing each other, as if he was spreading the product and warming it for your pleasure.

He would pay anything to see you so relaxed around him, MC.

Anything.

Levi

Levi shyly knocked on your door, trying not to squeak too loud while he waited for an answer.

He finally got his hands on the new Sucre Frenzy's limited edition mechandise! He'd been glued to his pc for hours, not blinking for the most of it and not even going to the bathroom, but it was all worth it! Come on MC! Open the door! HE DIDN'T COME OUT OF HIS ROOM FOR NOTHING!!

MC?

He knocked again, this time nervous and unsure. You'd never ignore him, would you? Were you doing important things? More important than him?

The door opened with a bang and Levi wasn't sure if he did it with his magic or with his own hands. Envy's doings were unconscious.

"MC?"

There was no one in your room, which made him almost as happy as the limited edition merchandise did before, if not a little bit more. Even better, the only scent in your room was you: your beauty products, your laundry detergent, your perfume and, why not, even your sweat. Just you.

He closed the door, not wanting any of his brothers to experience what he was feeling in that precise moment.

There was a cauldron on the table, no doubt homework for Solomon, and the mere though of you two working together made his guts coil.

He closed his eyes and smelled again.

There was your shower gel, when you both painted your skin for a cosplay and couldn't get the color out; your laundry detergent, when you washed one of his shirts with your clothes because he just had to wear it for a premiere; your sweat, when you both danced for hours to get the perfect combo.

He led himself to the table, where all your scents mixed in one single liquid in the cauldron. What was this? A potion? For what? Your smell was so good, MC, what were you trying to do with it?

Whatever the reason, he couldn't let anyone else enjoy your essence. Something that made you you. Something that, if he became worthy enough, only he could have.

Tagging the party: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav @zarakem @yuuvis32

If anyone else wants to be tagged, send me a message!

[maskedbyghost]

Stalker - part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/maskedbyghost/761077146667139072/stalker <- part 1

NSFW, MDNI

(simon is a bit possessive in this part too, a lot of you're mine exclamations lol, idk if I like this honestly)

"What are you doing here?" You asked, breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t seen him in months, not since the divorce papers were signed, and yet here he is, standing right at your doorstep. The man you once loved, the man you thought you’d never see again.

"Simon?" You managed to whisper, but when you saw a bouquet in his hands, from the same flower shop your stalker frequently visited, it all came to you. Simon was your stalker. Or something like that. You didn't know what to call him anymore.

He took a step closer, but you instinctively backed away, your hands shaking.

“You—” Your voice faltered, and you struggled to find the words. “You’ve been watching me?”

He stepped into the house—the house you once shared, now heavy with memories. "Please, love, let me explain." He closed the door gently behind him, leaning back against it with flowers still in his hands.

You stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, your body stiff with tension. His presence felt suffocating, filling the small space between you, just like the memories of all the times you had waited for him to walk through that same door. But not like this. Never like this.

“Explain?” You scoffed, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice. “How can you explain this, Simon? How do you explain any of this?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could say a word. “You ruined our marriage, Simon! You left me here, alone in this house. You didn’t fight for us! You didn’t fight for me.” Your voice cracked, but you forced yourself to stay steady.

Tears threatened to spill, but you blinked them away, refusing to show weakness now. “And now, after you’ve already broken everything, you come back as my stalker?” You could barely breathe through the rage, your head spinning with disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?”

Simon stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, before he slowly set the flowers down on the table beside him. Then, he removed the mask from his face, revealing the features you once knew so well—the face you had caressed countless times in the past. Damn it. He was still as handsome as you remembered.

Not now, brain! Focus. His looks couldn’t save him this time, not after everything he had done. Not after all the damage he had caused.

He took a step toward you, but when you instinctively backed away, Simon froze. He let out a heavy sigh and stopped in his tracks. "Please let me explain, and then I promise I will leave you alone."

“You have five minutes,” you said, your voice firm, “and then I want you out.” You turned on your heel and walked toward the living room, Simon following closely behind.

Simon sat down across from you, his expression a mix of desperation and regret. He took a deep breath before he started talking. “I need you to understand something,” he began, his voice steady but strained. “When I left, I was on a dangerous mission, one that I couldn’t discuss with you. I was cut off from communication, and forced into secrecy. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to contact you; it was because I couldn’t.”

He paused, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. “During that mission, someone discovered that I had you. They found out about us and used that information against me. They threatened me, they said that they would kill you, and I had no choice but to stay away. I thought if I kept my distance, they wouldn’t have any way to find your exact location. Instead, I sent a few people here to look after you, and eliminate any possible threat."

Your heart ached as you listened, but you remained silent, letting him continue.

Simon continued, his voice breaking slightly. “I had to deal with those men before I could even think about coming back.”

He swallowed hard, clearly pained. “When you sent the divorce papers, it felt like the final blow. I knew you deserved better—better than the life I was dragging you into. I signed the papers because I thought it was what you wanted. I thought you’d be safer without me.”

Simon’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “I should have fought harder, but I was afraid of making things worse for you. I thought you didn’t want to see me, so I stayed away, even when it was killin' me inside. I started keepin' an eye on you from a distance, trying to make sure you were okay.”

He leaned forward, his eyes pleading. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I’ve caused you so much pain. But I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen. I’m here now because I need to fix this, to make sure you’re safe and that you know the truth.”

The emotions poured inside you—betrayal, fear, love, and a desperate need to understand how everything had spiraled so out of control.

"Why now?" You asked, voice surprisingly calm. "Why didn't you show up earlier?"

“I got tired of dealing with the guys who tried to hit on you,” Simon said, his voice tinged with frustration.

You were left even more confused than before. You knew he could be jealous, but you hadn’t realized how far his possessiveness could reach. “I went on a date, you know?” you said, trying to prove some point at the moment, like he couldn't keep all of the suitors away.

“I know,” Simon growled, his voice tight with frustration. “Your friends were sneaky about setting you up with that fucker, I’ll give them that. I had to sit there for three hours, watching you smile at him, before I could do anythin'.”

"Should I even ask?"

"No." Simple as that. "Fuck, I know my wife is fuckin' perfect, but dealin' with all of them was more exhausting than I ever imagined.” I small smile appeared on his face, and you didn't know what to say. This was all messed up.

Simon slowly approached where you sat and lowered himself to his knees. He took your hands in his, pressing his lips to each knuckle. When his gaze settled on your ring finger, it was empty of course, you had removed the ring the moment he signed the divorce papers. He lingered there, his expression full of regret.

As Simon stared at your bare ring finger, the weight of his actions seemed to hit him all at once. His shoulders slumped, and he looked up at you with eyes full of sorrow.

“Seein' you without the ring,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “it’s like a reminder of everythin' I’ve lost. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you until now.”

Simon's grip on your hands tightened, his fingers gently tracing the veins on your wrists. “I'm beggin' you, love,” he pleaded, his eyes searching your face. “Please give me another chance. Let me prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

"Simon....I don't know."

"You're mine," he hissed, "You belong to me."

His grip tightened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressed against yours. "And I'm not lettin' go of what belongs to me," he growled in your ear.

Simon could see the mixture of emotions playing out on your face. His grip on your arms loosened, but his eyes remained intense, staring deeply into yours.

"I know I've hurt you," he continued when you didn't say anything, his voice a mixture of frustration and pleading. "I know I've made a mess of things. But I've never stopped loving you, not for a single moment."

“Simon, I understand that you’re trying to explain yourself, and I can see that you’re hurting, but your actions have caused a lot of pain, I don't know if I can trust you anymore." You said as the tears filled your eyes.

"I know," he said, his voice wavering. "And I don't expect you to trust me right away. I hurt you, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance."

He gently wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, his touch soft and tender. "Please, love," his own eyes welling up, "just give me a chance to prove it to you."

You sighed as Simon moved closer, placing a tender kiss on your cheek. When you didn’t pull away, he continued with gentle kisses down your neck, each kiss light. His lips traveled slowly up to your own, pausing just before they made contact. He lingered there, his breath mingling with yours, as he gazed intently into your eyes, his lips hovering near yours as if waiting for permission.

Your breath hitched as he paused, his lips hovering a hair's breadth away from yours. His eyes were filled with a mix of tenderness and raw desire. He waited for a moment, the anticipation hanging in the air. Then, finally, he closed the distance, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that was equal parts gentle and desperate.

But the kiss lasted for a moment only, he pulled back, and leaned his forehead on yours, before whispering "You are mine."

You trembled slightly as he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling gently in that familiar way he used to do. With his lips brushing against yours, he whispered, “No matter what, you will always be my girl, fucking mine. No one can take you away from me, and I'll grovel at your feet for eternity if it means you’d forgive me.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers in your hair, his breath on your lips, and his words leaving you overwhelmed.

"Simon..." you breathed, feeling the mix of emotions swirling inside you. "It's not that simple. You hurt me. You broke my trust."

His grip tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly, and his lips pressed against the exposed flesh of your throat. He nipped at your skin, his breath hot on your skin.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion as he nuzzled against your neck. “I can’t undo what I’ve done or make up for the pain I caused, but I want you to know that I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to rebuild your trust. I’m willing to wait, to earn your forgiveness, and to prove that I’ve changed. Just please, don’t shut me out completely. I need a chance to make things right.”

Your heart ached at his words, the pain and the love battling within you. The familiar feeling of his body pressed against yours added another layer of confusion to your conflicting emotions.

You reached up and gently ran a hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. A shiver ran down your spine as his breath tickled your skin, a small part of you surrendering to this need for him.

The feel of your hand in his hair and your body close to his sent a shot of desire through his body. He groaned deeply, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer, his body molding to yours.

His lips moved up your neck, his tongue tracing a fiery path up to your ear. "I need you," he whispered, voice thick with need. "I need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you're still mine."

"You know where the bedroom is."

Simon smiled as he got up with you in his arms, he wasted no time in carrying you to the bedroom, his strong arms holding you effortlessly. The air in the room was thick with a complex mix of emotions. On one side, there was the unresolved tension of past hurt and betrayal. On the other, there was a delicate, hopeful sense that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to reconnect and rebuild what you once had together.

[alisonsfics]

off limits - part five

pairing: brother’sbestfriend! henry cavill x reader

summary: henry was best friends with your brother, theo, which meant despite the clear chemistry between you two, you both had chosen to not date.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6 coming soon

After getting the ominous text from Theo, your mind had been racing a million miles a minute. You had no idea why he suddenly wanted to hang out with you and Henry, specifically. Theo wasn’t even really supposed to know that you and Henry had been spending time together.

You tried to distract yourself with a whole lists of hobbies, but your mind kept running back to wondering what Theo wanted to talk about. Theo wasn’t normally very secretive. He was normally an extrovert who didn’t keep anything in. You started preparing yourself for the chance that Theo knew about you and Henry.

Theo had sent you an address for some gala being hosted by the company he worked for. The only other information he gave you was that you’d talk once you got there.

You tried to assure yourself that if he was going to yell at you for dating-but-not-dating his best friend, he probably wouldn’t have picked a public event.

You got dressed up, as the invitation mentioned, and arrived at the gala way earlier than you were supposed to. You hadn’t seen or spoken to Henry since you got the text from Theo. You both were mentally spiraling and needed some time to think.

When it was finally an acceptable time, you headed into the lobby, where you saw Henry waiting. He was sitting on a bench, anxiously tapping his leg.

He gave you a soft smile once he saw you. He was so anxious that he couldn’t even force himself to stand and give you a hug.

“Theo here yet?” You asked him, trying to keep your hands from shaking. He shook his head. “Haven’t seen him yet,” he told you.

You grabbed your phone out of your purse, hoping you could distract yourself. It didn’t work. You anxiously switched between your Instagram feed and your email for ten minutes, until Theo showed up.

When Theo finally walked through the door, you and Henry practically jumped. “Hey, Theo. How are you?” You asked, giving your brother a quick hug. You were partially convinced that if you acted like everything was okay, maybe it would be. “Hey, guys. It’s good to see you both.” Theo said, also giving Henry a hug.

“So, you guys are probably wondering about my text. I’m sorry that I was so vague, but I was worried that neither of you would agree if I told you beforehand.” Theo started to explain.

Your fears that this was about you and Henry started to fade, but they were replaced by fears that this was worse.

“So, you both know that you’re the maid of honor and best man at the wedding, which me and Sarah are so happy about. But, we knew neither of you had a date yet to the wedding, so me and Sarah wanted to set you both up.” Theo finished explaining.

You and Henry were stunned. You glanced over at Henry, trying to read his expression. You both had been so worried about Theo finding out, and now, it sounded like he wanted the two of you to be together. You weren’t sure what you were hearing. Neither one of you knew how to respond.

“So, Sarah’s on her way in with two of our friends. We think you’ll love them. For you, we have my coworker Todd. He loves all your favorite movies, and he’s really into cooking. And Henry, Sarah has this friend named Mia, who owns this little bakery downtown. And if all goes well, maybe they could be your dates to the wedding.” Theo said, causing a pit to form in both yours and Henry’s stomachs.

Theo wasn’t setting you up with Henry. He was setting you both up with different people. You couldn’t even tell Theo that you weren’t interested because both your dates already in the parking lot.

“Alright. One of you say something, please. You’re scaring me.” Theo said, noticing your stunned reactions.

You were pissed. Theo had ambushed you.

“What’s to say? They’re already here, aren’t they?” You said, with a slight bitterness. Henry and Theo both picked up on it, but neither of them mentioned it.

Then, the front door to the lobby opened, and Sarah walked in with two people behind her. Sarah smiled at you both, unaware of the awkward tension in the room.

“Hey, guys. This is Todd and Mia.” Sarah said, introducing you all. You politely smiled at Todd, who was giving you an expectant look. “Shall we?” He asked you, holding out his arm for you. You reluctantly held onto his arm, and he led you into the banquet hall.

Henry didn’t realize how protective he was over you until he saw you with Todd. It made Henry sick to his stomach.

Todd brought you over to your assigned table. You glanced at the name tags and realized that all six of you were at one table. Todd pulled out your chair for you, but you still didn’t even want to look at him.

“So, you work with Theo?” You asked with a desperate attempt at conversation. Todd nodded his head and starting rambling about his job. You watched Henry, Mia, Theo, and Sarah start heading towards your table and prepared for the disaster that you knew would occur.

You zoned out as Todd rambled on and on. Henry gave you a sympathetic look as he sat down. You’re weren’t mad at Henry in anyway, but for some reason, you hoped that he would stand up to Theo and fight for you. You knew it was a crazy hope and that Henry wouldn’t do it. Henry had promised you that he’d keep whatever your relationship was a secret from Theo. He wouldn’t break that promise without your permission.

As if you weren’t feeling upset enough, watching Mia practically drool over Henry wasn’t helping.

“I’m going to go get a drink. If anyone wants to come with.” Sarah excused herself, starting to pick up on the tension. “We’ll come with you,” Mia volunteered, grabbing onto Henry’s hand.

You watched Henry’s eyes widen as he was dragged away from the table. “While they’re gone, I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back in a minute.” Todd excused himself as well.

“So how do you like him?” Theo asked from across the table as soon as Todd was out of earshot.

You refused to look at Theo. You fixed your attention on the other side of the room and didn’t budge. “Hello? What’s wrong?” Theo asked you.

“I’m fucking pissed at you. That’s what’s wrong.” You snapped at him. Theo looked genuinely shocked by your response. “You’re mad because I…got you a date?” He asked, confused.

You rolled your eyes, running a hand through your hair. “No, I’m mad because you ambushed me. You didn’t ask if I was interested, and I couldn’t have said no because he was already here.” You ranted. Theo was trying to reason with you, but all the stress from hiding your feelings for Henry was bubbling up.

“I was just trying to be helpful. I just want you to be happy.” Theo told you. You believed him, and you knew he had good intentions, but sometimes his execution was shit. “Maybe I already am happy. Maybe I don’t want to be in a relationship right now. Just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean I have to. I mean, I get enough of this shit from mom. I don’t need it from you too.” You said, standing up from the table and walking away.

You started walking towards the lobby again. You walked past the bar, and Sarah and Henry saw that you were fuming. “I’m gonna go check on her. Can you get me a drink?” Henry asked Mia, to which she quickly nodded.

Henry followed you into the lobby. “Hey, wait up. It’s me.” He called after you. You stopped when you recognized his voice. You turned around to face him and a few tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Talk to me,” Henry said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. You hated how safe you felt with him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding onto him like it would make your problems go away. “I am so fucking pissed at Theo for this, and this has all been so much recently. I’ve just fucking had it.” You rambled.

Henry rubbed your back as you ranted to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain so much. I mean, you’re going through this too, and I haven’t heard you complain once.” You apologized.

Henry took your hand and pulled you over to one of the benches against the wall. He sat down next to you. “You’re allowed to complain all you want. This fucking sucks. And trust me, I am just as upset as you are.” He comforted you, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear. You never felt alone when you were with Henry.

“You’re such a good listener. You should be my therapist. God knows I’m gonna need one after tonight,” you joked, laughing as you wiped another tear off your cheek.

“I hate seeing you cry.” Henry said, grabbing one of your hands in his. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand.

You saw a flash of doubt in Henry’s eyes for a split second, and then he cupped your face with his free hand. Then, he slowly leaned in to kiss you. It wasn’t like any of the other times you’d kissed Henry. Normally, it was heat of the moment and rushed. This was different. It was slow and sweet.

You leaned into the kiss. Butterflies swirled around inside you. You interlaced your fingers with Henry’s. It was magical.

Henry could feel you smile against the kiss. For a second, his feelings for you were simple. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything else, especially Theo. He just wanted you.

“Hey, Theo said you ran off. I wanted to come check on you.” Todd said, bursting into the room before realizing what was going on.

You and Henry froze. You half expected Henry to jump away from you. He didn’t. He let his hand rest on your waist. “I’m sorry. We really had no idea Theo was going to set us up. Theo doesn’t know about this. Please, don’t tell him.” You apologized.

Todd nodded and left you both alone.

Henry quickly stood up. “I need to go talk to Mia.” He said.

“That’s your first reaction after kissing me?” You asked him, half teasing.

“I need to tell her that there is somebody else who makes me very happy. I don’t want to lead her on when I am one thousand percent crazy about you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What do we do about Theo?” You asked him.

“I think we should talk to him and see how he reacts. There’s so much stuff going on with the wedding in three weeks, but I think we should talk to him after the wedding. I know that’s still a while from now, but I don’t want him to be stressed about the wedding when we talk to him.” He suggested.

You pulled him in for a hug. “I’m going to go hang out with Sarah. I’m not really in the mood to talk to Theo yet. But we’ll talk soon, okay?” You told him. He nodded and smiled before you left.

Then, Henry went to find Mia. “Hey, can we talk?” He asked her. She quickly nodded.

“I had no idea that Theo and Sarah were setting us up today. I don’t want to lead you on, and there’s this girl. I mean, it’s complicated, but it wouldn’t be fair to lie to you. Theo doesn’t know anything about it though.” He explained.

“Thank you for telling me. I really appreciate your honesty. And I totally understand why you’d be nervous to tell Theo.” She told Henry. Henry furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m sorry. What do you mean?” He asked her, curiously.

“Because she’s his sister,” Mia told Henry, as though it was clear as day.

Henry chuckled to himself. “I didn’t realize it was so obvious.” He admitted. Mia shyly nodded her head. “It’s just the way you look at her,” she told him.

They wrapped up their conversation, and Henry went back into the lobby to think. He wanted to seem confident and hopeful in front of you when talking about telling Theo, but Henry was terrified. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his relationship with his best friend or ruin yours and Theo’s relationship.

The stress had really gotten to Henry over the past few weeks. He felt his eyes start to water from the pure stress and anxiety. He had no one to talk about these things with except you, and he wanted to be strong for you.

Theo walked into the lobby, startling Henry. “You mad at me too? My sister's pissed, and judging by the way Mia and Todd are making out, I’m assuming neither of you were interested in your dates.” Theo said.

Henry shook his head. “I’m not mad at you. Slightly irritated, but not mad. But, I couldn’t date Mia, Theo.” He told him.

Theo noticed the emotion in Henry’s face. “Hey, man, are you alright?” Theo asked, concerned. Henry just shook his head. “There’s this girl. And god, I want to be with her. I think about her all the time, and it fucking sucks because I know how amazing we could be together, but it can’t happen. All I really want to do is take her on a date.” Henry explained, wiping his eyes quickly and faking a smile.

Theo put his hand on Henry’s back. “No one can really stop you though. You should go be with this girl if she makes you happy. Don’t let anything stand in your way.” Theo assured Henry. Henry chuckled to himself at the irony. He knew Theo would have a very different sentiment if he knew the girl was his sister.

“It’s just way too complicated. You have no idea.” Henry told him.

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Champagne Problems, Part Two

IT"S FINISHED! whew, that only took forever. part of the reason this took so long to write is that i was obsessing over if it would be as good as part 1, so hopefully y'all like it (but please be nice if you don't). final word count is about 22-23k words...so buckle in, grab a snack, and enjoy!

Part One

*.*

Japan

Harry walked alone through the busy streets of Tokyo, his chin tucked close to his chest and his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his long overcoat. There was a cadence to his steps as he kept time with the song that played on a loop in his head. It wasn't one that anyone here but him would know. Well, him and one other person, but she was a world away.

Rounding the corner, Harry turned into the cafe he'd been frequenting since he'd arrived. He nodded to the shopkeeper before heading over to the counter, pulling an old, weathered vinyl from his bag.

"This is the one I was talking to you about," he said by way of greeting. "It truly is a phenomenal record."

Harry handed over the record, hesitating a little before letting go of it. He'd been listening to it nonstop since he'd left Los Angeles, and parting with it was more difficult than he originally thought it would be. When he first came to the cafe, he'd looked for it within the crammed shelves huddled in the corner. The shopkeeper had never even heard of it, and Harry could only imagine what Y/n would say if she knew. She'd been the one to introduce him to it, the memory of that conversation in her apartment seared into his brain.

"Wings?" Harry had asked, not quite suspiciously, but the glare Y/n sent over his shoulder made it seem like he'd already written it off. Her glare is so cute, he remembered thinking, admiring the adorable furrow of her brow as she rooted through a collection of vinyls that was bigger than anything Harry had ever seen.

"It'll change your life," she'd promised, before sliding the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the turntable. Her record player was littered with stickers, some too faded or covered by others to see them properly.

She'd grinned as the opening chords to the first track played, settling next to Harry as she picked up her wine glass, her lips puckering around it to take a sip. She hadn't noticed him staring until about a minute later, when her eyes met his. Her brows had furrowed once more, but this time it was more confused. She'd nudged Harry's leg with her foot, which was covered in a purple patterned fuzzy sock.

"It's your turn, isn't it?" she'd asked, eyes darting to the Scrabble board on the coffee table.

Harry remembered taking the wine glass from Y/n's hands and setting it on the table next to the board. He remembered taking her face in his hands and kissing her. He remembered her squeak of surprise but that she didn't pull away.

Their very first kiss.

The memory of her delicate hands sliding into his hair, of her crawling into his lap, the little noise she made as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip—it was all-consuming as Harry sat down at his usual table at the cafe a million miles from Y/n and Los Angeles.

"It'll changed your life," she'd promised him. Little did he know, she already had.

*.*

A week after Harry left, you received a text from your ex, a total surprise seeing as you hadn't spoken to him since you'd broken up.

Gavin: I heard about what happened with you and my sister. Can we meet somewhere and talk?

That message sat in your inbox without a response for hours as you tried to work up the courage to say yes. You knew you needed to, you knew you would feel better after the fact, that both of you deserved closure after the colossal end to your relationship, but every time your thumb hovered over the keyboard, you chickened out.

Until finally, you wrote, Okay.

Seeing Gavin again was a trip. He looked the same, yet so different at the same time. He had facial hair for one thing, and his hair was a couple inches longer than it had been when you were together. Deep down, you assumed a public shaming on his part, you feared he would just berate you for all the ways you'd hurt him and that he hated you for breaking his heart and humiliating him.

But that had never been who Gavin was. Your ex was kind and honorable, he tipped generously on dinner dates and warmed up socks for you in the dryer because he knew how cold you got after a long day at work. He was the definition of a sweetheart, and assuming the worst about him was just the fear and insecurity talking.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, Gavin," you said, trying to hold all the excess of emotion brimming to the surface as you walked beside him. You'd agreed on a walk through the park as opposed to sitting down somewhere, both of you perhaps too nervous to sit still.

Gavin merely nodded, which was more than you could've asked for given the circumstances. "Thank you. So much time has passed, but...it feels nice to hear."

It was a while before either of you said anything. Los Angeles wasn't a frozen tundra by any means, but it was quite brisk by the ocean, and you crossed your arms across your chest to retain a bit of heat.

Then, Gavin said, "I...I just need to know why. Did I do something? I thought things were good between us. I mean I wanted to—"

Maybe it was the cold, but his cheeks were rosy as his voice tapered off. "You didn't do anything wrong, Gav," you said, wanting to take his hand but refraining. It didn't feel like something you could do anymore. Even if two years had come and gone, you couldn't make yourself cross that line. It didn't feel right.

You didn't know how to sugarcoat your words, but you hoped time would soften the blow. "I just...I realized that you were in love with me and I—I just wasn't. I wanted to be, I wanted to be in love with you, but—And then I panicked. I overheard your mom and sister talking about you wanting to propose, and I just couldn't lead you on. I couldn't let you do that knowing you deserved better than what I could give you.

"But it killed me, Gavin," you said, tearing up just thinking about it. "Hurting you is the worst thing I've ever done, and I've—I've hated myself for putting you through that, and I couldn't face you after, which was unfair of me."

"I just wanted an explanation," Gavin said quietly, his head bent so you couldn't see his face. "All I ever wanted was to understand. I think that hurt more than you breaking up with me, that you couldn't offer me that decency."

You nodded with a sniffle, keeping your eye on the slate blue of the ocean and the clouds covering your favorite shade of sky blue. "It was selfish of me to ignore you, I know that. I just...couldn't. I was scared that you would convince me to come back when that wasn't really what I wanted, and with your family and friends constantly messaging me, I just thought staying away was for the best."

"Y/n, what—what messages? What are you talking about?"

"You really don't know?" Perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, Gavin's family would never do or say anything to him that would make them look bad in his eyes. But so much time had passed that you thought it would've slipped. He'd heard about the coffee house incident, after all.

With shaking hands, you reached for your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. After scrolling through your messages, you passed it to Gavin, letting him look for himself. He was quiet as he looked over the messages from his sister. There were others, but Larissa's were the most vicious. A more mentally sound person would've deleted them ages ago, but you liked to punish yourself when you were feeling particularly low.

"I don't hold any of this against you," you said. "I know you're not your family, but I just...I don't know."

"I wish I'd known about all this before," Gavin mumbled with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry for them."

"Thank you."

You didn't know what to say after that, you weren't even sure you wanted to dwell on the past anymore. It had gone by so quickly in your eyes, but two years suddenly felt like ten. You felt older, more jaded as you walked next to the man you were almost engaged to.

"Are you happy?" you asked suddenly, stopping at a bench and sitting down.

Gavin sat down next to you. He handed your phone back before sighing. "I am. I wasn't for a while, but I am. You?"

You nodded. "Learning to be. I think I was...in a rough place before I started seeing you, and now I think I'm finally on the other side of it."

Gavin's grin was familiar. It felt good to see it, but it didn't give you the butterflies that it used to. Maybe just a little relief. You smiled back, nudging him with your shoulder. "You seeing anyone?"

The blush on Gavin's cheeks told you everything you needed to know, and knowing he moved on settled something in you. "Yeah. We've been together about a year now."

Sometimes you daydreamed about who Gavin would be with when he eventually moved on. Someone perky, but not in an obnoxious way. Maybe she liked to paint and drew pictures of his profile while they had picnics together, because picnics were the kind of dates they would go on. They would hold hands in the popcorn bowl at the movies and wear matching sweaters on Christmas. The girl who would truly steal Gavin's heart would be just as sweet and generous as he was and would make his lunches for work and wipe his mouth at dinner with a smile and love him with her entire being because he deserved it.

"That's wonderful, Gav," you said earnestly. You took his hand in yours and squeezed, hoping he knew you were telling the truth. The only thing you hoped was that he kept her far, far away from his family.

"Are you? Seeing anyone?"

A simple question, and yet you didn't know how to offer a simple answer. Eventually, you shook your head. "Uh...no."

"Brothers scaring the line of willing suitors?" he joked, knowing full well how your brothers could be.

Laughing, you shook your head. "No, nothing like that, I just—It's complicated, I guess."

You couldn't quite believe that you were having this conversation today, especially with Gavin. But talking to him had always come easy, it was one of the things you liked best about being with him.

"If you can believe it," you added, a little humor in your voice. "I was the one who was ready to take things further."

For a moment, you worried you'd taken things too far, but his brows just raised amusingly. "No shit. Really?"

"He wasn't ready. Just my luck. I finally get my shit together and he takes off to another continent."

You didn't resent Harry for leaving. He'd done what was best for him, but that didn't mean the timing didn't suck. You finally felt comfortable and confident enough to be open with someone, and they fled the country.

Okay, so Harry didn't flee the country, but you felt the blow to your ego no matter how rational you were about the situation.

"He'll come around," Gavin promised, which took you by surprise. "You're probably not aware, but you're very easy to fall in love with, Y/n."

Your cheeks flushed, feeling Gavin's words right down to your toes. It didn't feel romantic in any sort of way, but there was some reassurance. Gavin knew you well, and he had been a good friend.

And yet, the only thing you could think as you continued to catch up with your ex was, Then why is it so hard for me to fall in love?

*.*

Harry hadn't realized it, but he'd started to keep a list in his head, a mental tally of all the little things he learned about Y/n and that made her who she was.

The list had started with small trivial things like her coffee order and that she seemed to be particularly fond of wearing bandanas in her hair or that she always carried the same canvas tote on her shoulder, one that read, "You're Doing Great," in squiggly blue writing. From there, the list grew, and he suddenly began to collect bits of information from Y/n like valuable trading cards—what it was like growing up with three older brothers, how long she stayed in Nashville before moving out to Los Angeles, and what the perfect record was for when she was feeling sad. Harry wanted to know everything, every little piece she was willing to give him until he understood even the smallest gesture.

"Why don't you perform your songs?"

It was a question that lingered in the back of his mind for weeks now. Harry had heard Y/n sing on multiple occasions as they wrote together, and he couldn't help but think that she was the whole package. She could sing, had the kind of voice that was soft and low, a little raspy but easy to harmonize with. She wrote incredible songs that held so much depth and emotion and she could play multiple instruments. Harry could see her selling out stadiums and connecting to people through music that she wrote and performed. Yet she didn't.

"I never really had the desire to," Y/n said with a shrug. They were in his backyard, sitting around a bonfire with a bottle of wine between them. It was her turn to pick, and Chris Stapelton was crooning through her phone's speaker.

"Is it like a stage fright thing?"

"No, not at all," Y/n said. "I just don't think that life was made for me, you know? I don't know if I could handle being famous."

Harry supposed he understood what she meant. He loved his life, but it wasn't always a walk in the park. But it did make him wonder if she would ever be with someone like him, someone who did lead a life that she thought she couldn't handle. For the first time since he'd met her, Harry decided he didn't want to know.

"What about...singing backup or joining your favorite musician on tour once he releases the greatest album since...So?"

"I didn't peg you for a Peter Gabriel fan," she murmured, immediately recognizing the title, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little at the fact that she knew exactly what album he was referring to. "But, I guess so. If it was for a friend."

Harry tucked that little nugget of information away. Tour was worlds away at the moment, but it was always good to think ahead, especially when he knew he needed a keyboardist replacement.

Looking up, he admired Y/n in the glow of the bonfire, his heart beating rapidly even though she wasn't even doing anything. Ever since their first kiss a week ago, he just wanted more. His brain could hardly keep up with his heart and how badly it longed for her. And she didn't even realize the effect she had on him. She drove him crazy.

And that scared him. Harry had only recently broken up with his ex, and he didn't think it was possible to feel so strongly for someone after coming out of a pretty serious relationship with someone else. He knew he should untangle the strings, that if he let things get too far, they'd get messy, and he and Y/n would both end up hurt.

But that voice in his head that told him to be careful became a low buzz as Y/n stood up and shuffled over to him before placing herself in his lap. Her fingers came up to play with the hair that curled at the nape of Harry's neck, and he couldn't help but close his eyes at the feeling, at her closeness, at the smell of her perfume that lingered on her clothes.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," she whispered, almost like she was talking to herself and not to Harry. "And I don't have any expectations, but I'm okay with it if you are."

Yet. Y/n didn't have any expectations yet. He knew the familiar thudding of his heart, the excited flutter in his stomach as he leaned into her touch. Of course there would be expectations, but Harry found himself nodding anyway, unable to deny either of them the pleasure of her lips sliding lightly against his. Y/n had never initiated anything between them before, and her tentative kiss told Harry she was unsure of herself. At first glance, she came off as unsure when it came to most things, but Harry learned that she held within herself a quiet confidence that he admired.

Harry stood up with her in his arms as he led them back inside. He didn't know where this would lead, tonight or any night to follow. He didn't know if Y/n was ready to sleep with him, and he honestly wasn't sure if he was either. But he wanted her close and to feel those gentle hands a little firmer in his hair. That was all he knew, and he let himself not think about anything else.

The tangles of his feelings were positively knotted, and despite his long list of things he knew about Y/n, he still didn't know where her heart truly lay. But if she was willing to walk through the fire blind, then so was he.

*.*

Two weeks into Harry being gone, and you were starting to wonder when you'd become so pathetic.

In the time since Harry left for Japan, you hadn't written a single song, not even a lyric. It was ludicrous. You'd written by yourself your entire career, but after a couple months spent with a writing partner, you were rendered insipirationless.

Not to mention semi-friendless.

It wasn't that Harry's friends didn't want to hang out, you just weren't sure you could. Outside of Sylvia, you didn't hang out with Harry's team without him, and it just felt weird to start doing so now. You didn't shy away from them when you saw them in the hallways of the building you all worked in, but you never knew what to say past a casual greeting.

Funnily enough, though, you'd said everything you needed to say to Gavin. Meeting up with him eased a heaviness in your chest you'd been carrying around with you for the last two years. You both were able to get the closure that you'd been denying yourselves, and it felt good to get everything out in the open, to receive Gavin's forgiveness after punishing yourself for such a long time.

Seeing Gavin and talking to him left you feeling lighter, but it also left you a little hollow to. With no rain cloud hanging over your head anymore, you didn't know what to do with yourself. The concept of happiness was something you'd never thought you would get, and now that it was within reach you were hesitant.

"Maybe we need a sabbatical, pookie," you said to your dog, kissing his nose. "What do you think?"

Buddy Holly didn't have a response for you, he just tilted his head at the sound of your voice. Sighing, you scratched his head and pressed play on the movie you'd previously been watching before your dog unceremoniously climbed into your lap.

Now that Harry was gone on his journey of self-discovery, you'd gone back to spending your nights alone. In theory, it should've been easy. Before Harry, being alone was second nature, but your first night alone you were at a loss. You kept wanting to reach for your phone and call him, send him a text about the record you were listening to or the ridiculous thing Buddy had done that day. You didn't realize of much Harry had engrained himself into your life, and now he was half a world away.

Reaching out wasn't an option, either, no matter how much you wanted to. He didn't tell you much for his reasons for leaving, a "writing retreat," he claimed, but you knew it was more than that. There was shit he needed to figure out, shit regarding his past relationship, so you felt the ball was in his court.

The next day, you were on the elevator going up to work, arguing with your brother on the phone.

"Nothing's wrong, Hayden," you insisted, rubbing a tired hand over your face.

"No, there definitely is. Evan, Andrew, and I all agree," Hayden said. "Something's definitely wrong with you. And when something's wrong with you, it's usually one of three things. Menstruation, a guy, or one of us, and seeing as we haven't done anything, and your period doesn't—"

"Oh my God, Hayden!" you groaned as the elevator doors opened. "I'm not...menstruating. Jesus! The fuck is wrong with you?"

Hayden kept jabbering in your ear, but you weren't listening anymore because the elevator doors had opened to reveal someone on the other side. Mitch, Harry's friend was standing there, eyes wide as he looked at you, clearly having heard your side of the conversation with your brother.

God, could this day get any worse? you thought. Shutting your eyes, you wondered if you stood there long enough with your eyes closed, the elevator doors would close and take you straight to hell or you would maybe just disappear on the spot. Either would be appreciated.

"Hayden, I have to call you back."

"You're still coming to my game this weekend right?" he asked.

"Wearing the other team's jersey," you muttered, hanging up as your brother began to protest.

Since the elevator doors stayed open and you didn't spontaneously combust, you opened your eyes. "Hey."

Mitch nodded. "Hey, Y/n."

The air was so incredibly awkward, and you wondered why you weren't sprinting toward your studio and locking yourself in permanently. But neither of you moved, and now you felt the need to explain yourself. "I...I wish I had an explanation other than my brothers still seem to ruin my life from hundreds of miles away, but I don't."

You finally stepped out of the elevator and moved around Mitch, who stepped inside. He still had that tense smile on his face, and you wondered if the two of you would ever be able to make eye contact again. Not that you ever did all that much before this God-awful incident. Just another reason to avoid Harry's friends.

"Right. H mentioned you had brothers," he said. "See you around, Y/n."

For my own sanity, I hope not, you prayed to whoever was listening.

*.*

"Do you ever think about what you would be doing if you weren't doing...this?" Y/n asked, gesturing vaguely around her.

Harry looked down to where she was spread out on the floor, her head rested in his lap while he leaned against his sofa. He wasn't quite sure how they ended up on the floor, but he didn't dare move, resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair. It was shiny, and smelled faintly of apples. He wondered if it was as soft as he imagined.

Blinking, he stumbled around in his brain for an answer, clearing his head of thoughts of silky hair passing through his fingers. "Honestly? No, not really."

"You don't?"

Harry shrugged even though Y/n's eyes were closed. She did that often if there was music playing, as if she was trying to absorb every note into her body while maintaining a conversation. Right now they were listening to one of Harry's current favorites: a Joni Mitchell album he'd grown up listening to with his mum. He remembered when he used to scramble for answers in interviews when he was asked about his favorite artist or album, trying to come up with an answer that the media would want to hear without appearing fake. He'd list classic rock bands like Fleetwood Mac and wear old band t-shirts from the seventies. He didn't not like those artists, he loved them. But when Y/n asked about his favorite record in his collection, he didn't hesitate to reach for Joni Mitchell, knowing she wouldn't judge him for his answer.

"No. I was so young when I auditioned for the X-Factor," Harry explained. "I don't even think I knew what I wanted to study in school then, so it's hard to know what I would be doing now if it weren't for all...this."

And I wouldn't have met you, he thought but kept that to himself. Neither of them was ready for those kinds of words if he was being honest. Y/n was skittish about feelings at the best of times, and he didn't know where his feelings for her started, and getting over his ex ended. It gave him a headache if he thought about it too long, so he didn't.

Y/n sat up, and Harry resisted the urge to pull her back to him. As they hung out more and more, he had this overwhelming desire to be near her as much as possible. A hollowness would form in his chest if he didn't seek her out at the studio, leaving him blushing like an idiot every time he left his friends behind as he walked down the familiar hallway to her door. None of them ever said anything outright, but he could practically hear their teasing thoughts, but he couldn't help it. Y/n had drawn him in from the moment he'd laid eyes on her.

"Maybe you'd be a florist," she said with a small grin.

"A florist?"

"Yeah." Y/n's grin grew, and Harry swore his heart grew with it. When he initially started spending time with her, or bugging her, more like, she hardly smiled. He thought it was such a shame. Not only because Y/n had a beautiful smile, but because she felt like she couldn't. Harry never wanted her to feel like she couldn't be happy, least of all around him. "You could have this big truck and deliver flowers to baby showers and weddings and other big occasions."

"Oh yeah? And where are you in this scenario?" he asked, somewhat nervous to hear the answer.

A blush crept up Y/n's cheeks as she looked at him. "In the passenger seat."

*.*

The third week Harry was gone, a stranger popped into your studio. A sense of deja vu had run through you as you looked up to find someone occupying the space in your doorframe, only Harry never knocked to make his presence known. You'd always just been aware of him when he entered the room.

"Can I help you?" you asked. You were working on a song that you actually quite liked. A new angle, a different approach to songs that you wanted to see through, and interruptions weren't going to help.

"Mitch said to come find you," he said. He looked a little nervous at having disrupted your work, so you eased up on your stare. "He said you could help us?"

Us? you thought. You supposed that it wasn't too far fetched that Harry's team would make themselves busy while he was off on sabbatical, or whatever it was he'd been doing in Japan. You hadn't heard from him much, and you tried not to let that hurt your feelings too much.

Brows furrowed, you said, "I'm sorry, I don't know how I would help—"

"He said you've written for country artists before?" the guy said. "We're sort of stuck and he said to come find you, so..."

Sighing, you stood up, but not before jotting a couple notes down in your journal. Perhaps it was kismet that the song you'd been playing around with today had been country in your mind. The prospect of writing with anyone other than Harry felt odd, uncomfortable. But Harry wasn't here, and you didn't know when he would be back and you couldn't just hide in your studio because he'd left.

You didn't know what to expect as you followed the man, Daniel, he'd finally introduced, led you to a studio a couple rooms away from yours. You'd met Harry's writing and production team a number of times, but Harry wasn't a country artist, so Mitch was clearly helping out with a different project, which meant introducing yourself to a whole new group.

Mitch was waiting with one other person, a young woman who was about your age or younger. She had blond curly hair and light blue eyes, a smile on her face at something Mitch said. When you entered the room, you couldn't help but think back to last week when you'd completely embarrassed yourself in front of Mitch. You hadn't seen him since, and even though it was probably unlikely, you'd hoped you'd never have to again.

Introductions were made quickly before a chair was pulled out for you. The young woman's name was Cam, and she was working on putting out her first ever single. "And album eventually, but we're starting out small," she said with a bashful grin. "I'm such a huge fan of your work, and when Mitch said you were just down the hall, I told him he had to introduce me. I swear I love every song you've ever written."

Nodding, you gripped the soft leather binding of your journal, wondering what Mitch was angling at here. From the short amount of time you'd spent with him, he seemed rather quiet. A chill person who mostly kept to himself. You weren't sure why you were being dragged into one of his projects.

"Yeah. That's where I started my career," you said. "I'm sorry—Did you want my help with a song?"

"The whole album too, hopefully," Cam said, and you could see it in her eyes how bad she wanted this. She was ambitious, but not in a way that made you want to run back to your room and have nothing to do with this project. You eyed her scuffed boots and the worn friendship bracelets on her wrists and the hope that lined her body as she waited for you to say something.

"I usually work alone," you said. "But, I—I did happen to be writing something a little country today if you wanted to take a look."

You handed your journal over to the young woman, trying to decide if you wanted to be part of this little team. On the one hand, you thought Harry would be the only person you'd feel comfortable writing with, but...if he had a team, why couldn't you? Perhaps Harry had opened you up to the possibility of branching out and trying things you'd closed yourself off to in the past.

At the very least, you decided, you would hear her out, see how you gelled with this small group. If not for any other reason than as a small favor to an acquaintance. You didn't know Mitch all that well, but you considered him someone you knew.

And to be honest, maybe you were getting tired of staying holed up in a studio by yourself all the time.

So now you were meeting with Cam, Mitch, and Daniel regularly. That first day, you stayed at the studio late at night workshopping ideas and getting a feel for the sound and vision Cam was going for. And it was easy. Bouncing ideas off each other, picking up the guitar and playing a potential riff and letting Mitch carry it somewhere else, working out harmonies and melodies with Cam. You'd left the studio later than you ever had that night, but energy coursed through your veins as you left the building.

You'd never been a part of something at the start with the means to see it through. You usually wrote songs and sold them to whoever wanted them, and with Harry, you'd joined in songwriting when he and his team were well underway, but this...this was new, and you didn't hate it. In fact, you were looking forward to meeting the next day, and the next, and the next...

Weeks flew by as you worked on this album, and you suddenly lived off takeout boxes and snacks as you spent many a late night as you worked on song after song, eager to see this project come to life. There wasn't necessarily a deadline, but you were all just eager to keep working on what you all knew was something special. And today Mitch was going to teach you how to play the drums while Cam met with her record label for an hour. It felt like there was finally light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel, one that you'd been winding through the last two years. It felt good to feel this light again, even your brothers got off your back a little, though you knew that wouldn't last very long.

"I'm on my way right now, and I'm bringing Buddy because he's being extra clingy today," you said into the phone. "He's also my reason for going home at a reasonable hour—"

Time stopped as you opened the door to your apartment. Your heart was in your throat, partly because you were startled to find someone on the other side, and then because your eyes finally registered who was on the other side.

"Y/n?"

Blinking, you quickly told Cam you had to go before hanging up the phone, slipping it in your coat pocket before letting it drop to the floor. You ran a hand over your face, wondering if you'd magically conjured him to your door, or if you were so tired you were suddenly delirious, but when you uncovered your eyes, he was still there, hands tucked in his pockets and a suitcase resting by his feet, a cat carrier on top of it.

"Harry? What—What are you doing here? When did you—"

There was no time to think or speak or breathe as Harry surged forward, his hands suddenly out of his pockets and settling deep in your hair, and kissed you.

The kiss was bruising, making it hard to think straight, making it hard to think about anything but him. His cologne flooded your senses as if you'd never smelled it before, making you sigh against his mouth and giving him ample opportunity to slide his tongue against yours as he backed you against the doorframe with a soft thud.

Your hands flew of their own accord, reaching beneath Harry's coat and gripping the shirt he wore beneath it. You needed to feel him, to know he was really here in front of you, that he wasn't going to evaporate in your hands leaving you with only the memory of his kiss. You'd had that particular dream one too many times.

Harry's hands smoothed down your sides, rucking up your shirt and setting your skin on fire when his thumbs brushed your ribcage. Your breaths stuttered until you finally had to pull back to catch it Instinctively, Harry followed, his mouth searching for yours, then your neck, but you held him in place for a moment.

"Wait," you said, breaths shallow. Harry stopped immediately, eyes roving your face in a similar way to how you were doing so. When he finally met your gaze, a small, shy smile, spread across your lips. "H—Hi."

Harry's responding grin was radiant. "Hi."

*.*

"I don't understand, when—when did you get back?"

It was safe to say you weren't going into the studio. There were about ten seconds of protesting before you finally caved, and it had nothing to do with Harry's lips on your neck or his hands sneaking beneath your shirt. "Stay," Harry had mumbled. "Please? There's so much I want to say."

So you stayed, though you hadn't really spoken much. You and Harry had ended up on your couch huddled up together under a blanket, Buddy Holly dozing at your feet. You kept waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say, but he kept quiet. It was nice for a while, but you began to itch with the need for answers. You didn't want to immediately fall back into old habits the second he came back, even if laying flush against his chest was the most peaceful you felt in weeks. You were nervous to talk to him, to hear him say that after staying away for two months, he still didn't want a relationship. But even so, it would be better to know the truth and start getting over it now than to hold out hope.

"Today," Harry said. "I came straight here from the airport."

"Why? Wouldn't you want to go home? Get settled. Sweet Pea probably misses home."

Harry raised his head from where he'd been resting it in the crook of your neck. His brows raised suspiciously to where his cat was dozing on top of Buddy, as if she'd never left. "I think she's rather comfortable."

"You're awfully comfortable too," you said under your breath. Then, even though you felt so warm in his embrace, you sat up, putting some distance between yourself and Harry.

You could tell he wanted to protest, his sleepy eyes and mussed brown curls covering his forehead in a messy tangle told you that all he wanted was to fall asleep next to you. You wanted that too, but your mind kept drifting back to that last conversation, to that last exchange of words, and you let them keep that small bubble of distance between you and him.

"I need to know why you're here, H," you said, raising your knees up to your chest.

Harry could hear the seriousness in your voice, his expression sobering a little. He sat up too, facing you as he took up his place at the corner of the couch. There were only a couple inches between you, but it felt like Harry was still in Japan with how distant you felt from him now. He was home, but was he really? You didn't know how your friendship was going to evolve from here. You supposed you could be okay with just being his friend. It would sting, but you would get over it.

Eventually.

You hoped.

"I...just knew that this was where I needed to be," he said, not meeting your eye. "I came home and the only person I wanted to see was you."

His words meant more than you cared to admit. They filled you with warmth, bringing a flush to your cheeks that you prayed Harry didn't see.

"I missed you too," was all you could think of to say.

"And I—I want more," Harry said. "I was halfway across the world, and I was writing and walking around the city, and all I wanted was to share those moments with you and write with you and wake up next to you. I just...I want you in my life, Y/n."

"As your friend?" you asked, your voice stuck somewhere in your throat.

"However you'll have me."

Your heart leaped in your chest, but you stopped yourself from launching across the couch into his arms. It was all too good to be true. Harry wasn't ready for a relationship before he left, and you'd been gracious and understood where he was coming from. And now that a few weeks had passed, he suddenly wanted to be whatever you wanted him to be. In the back of your mind, the fact that he hadn't said "boyfriend" pricked a sensitive part of your brain. It was silly and minuscule, and it shouldn't have mattered, so you tried not to let it.

Still, you were unsure. You knew Harry would never be so cruel as to feed you words for the sake of placating you, but something left you hesitating. Maybe it was that the last time you saw Harry, he told you he couldn't give you what you wanted and now he was saying he could, or maybe your heart was still protecting you from potential pain, you weren't sure. But you couldn't give in.

Almost as if he could read the jumbled thoughts running around in your head, Harry inched toward you, his expression soft and open. "I can tell you're unsure, and I don't blame you," he said, taking a chance and reaching a hand across the couch to hold yours. "Let me prove it to you."

Brows furrowed, you tilted your head to the side. "Prove it?"

"We'll go slow," Harry said as he nodded and moved closer. Close enough to tip your chin up with his knuckle. "We can do that, can't we? We don't have to rush things. We can just...go on a date and see what happens, right?"

Despite the hesitation, a smile twitched at the corner of your lips. "Harry Styles...are you asking me on a date?"

Harry's responding grin was wide and sweet as honey. "Only if you're saying yes."

Eight weeks ago, you'd stepped out of your comfort zone by asking Harry for more, and watching him walk away hurt more than you ever thought it would. Your instinct was to hide, to crawl back into your shell before you could get hurt again. But you knew Harry had been hurt before too, and now he was trying. Even though they'd both had their hearts broken for different reasons and had every reason not to give into their feelings and hide, preferring to be alone.

It took you two years to..."forgive yourself" didn't seem like the right words. To be ready to put yourself into the world again, to allow yourself the possibility of hurting and being hurt in that way again. Your scars had healed over into faint white lines after two whole years. Nearly imperceptible, but still there, a subtle but constant reminder of what you stood to lose if you ruined things again. But also a reminder that you could love and lose and still heal, and maybe even love again. Harry hadn't been there when he left, and at the time you hoped he would be. And maybe part of you knew he would be, because you'd gotten there too in your own way.

The hope that kindled in your chest made you nervous, but it made you excited too.

"I—I don't want you to feel like you have to do this because—"

Harry's index finger was on your lips before you could say anything else. Your eyes nearly crossed as you looked down your nose at it, and you heard his chuckle at what was most likely a silly look on your face. "I know I don't have to do anything, Y/n. I needed some time to clear my thoughts and untangle all of my feelings. I want this. I want you."

Over your time spent with Harry, you'd come to realize he had expressive eyes. While he kept a lot to himself and didn't share much unless it was through songwriting, his eyes said everything. This close to his face, you could see the honesty, the earnestness. You decided to believe him, to believe in whatever had been forming between you since the first time you'd met.

Not holding back, you did lunge for him this time, but gently, seeing as he was so close. Harry seemed surprised by your sudden movements but didn't stop you as you took his face in your hands and kissed him for all he was worth. You felt his face slowly split into a grin as his hands roved up and down your back, as if he was finally reacquainting himself with your body. Or maybe it was that this kiss was different from all the others, with different expectations and intentions and promises for more.

"What happened to slow?" he asked, teasing as you nipped at his ear.

"Tell me to stop," you said, feeling out of breath.

He didn't, you knew he wouldn't, but that only made him grin even more. "I still want to do things properly," he told you, leaning back against the couch and taking you with so that you were on top of him, your body flush against his. "I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand and pull your chair out for you at dinner."

Resting on your elbows, you lightly traced the delicate planes of his face with your finger. Harry's eyes tracked your movements while he waited for you to answer, kissing the pad of your index finger when it passed over his lips. You smiled a little, unsure of where all this giddiness was coming from but hoping it wouldn't go away.

"I want that too," you murmured before kissing the tip of his nose. "But maybe that can start tomorrow."

Harry's hand came up to cradle the side of your face, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. Everything already felt different. New and fragile and breakable. So, so breakable.

"Your heart was glass, I dropped it," you'd written way back. You had the potential to break Harry's heart. But the notion that you wouldn't was so intrinsic in that moment, you felt like the only way you would crack the glass this time was by squeezing too hard, by liking him too much.

You didn't know what you would do if Harry would drop yours.

It was a terrifying thought, one that was too dreadful for the peaceful bliss taking over your apartment. Harry was looking at you like your hair was made of stars or pure sunlight, and it warmed every inch of you down to your bones as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheekbone.

"I can get behind that," he said quietly.

After that, you finally relaxed. Your head found purchase on his chest, comfortable against the soft material of his sweatshirt despite the firmness of his body beneath you. You breathed in deep, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it all out in one soft exhale. With that breath, you felt the last of your doubts flutter away—for now, at least—allowing you to believe in the promise Harry offered you.

*.*

"Come on. If you're not going to let me go to work, you're gonna help me here."

You managed to untangle yourself from Harry, who pouted at you as he remained sprawled out on your bed. Leaving him there, you went to the front door to where you'd left your guitar case when you found him on your doorstep yesterday. Slipping your well-loved guitar from the case, you walked back over to Harry, who was now sitting up on the couch. His eyes tracked your every move as you made your way back over to him. His stare felt heated, causing a flush to your cheeks, but you ignored it as you settled on one end of the couch, resting the guitar in your lap.

"Looks like you already have something in mind," Harry said. He still sounded playful, but you knew he wasn't going to try and dissuade you from this. He was just as eager to write as a team as you were.

Writing without Harry while he was gone was strange. At first you thought you'd be fine, seeing as you'd preferred working in solitude most of your professional career. Yet when he left, you were unable to write. You found yourself looking for him, raising your head to ask what he thought of a melody when he wasn't there, thinking out loud as if he was still in the room to bounce ideas off of.

You'd missed him in more ways than one, that was certain. This new dynamic with Mitch had been good, fun even. You attributed your openness to teamwork to Harry, and now you were nearly finished with an album, a project you'd been part of from start to finish, something you'd never really been able to say before. You'd enjoyed going into the studio to work with Mitch, to share song ideas with Cam and see where she took them. If given the option, you would do it again in a heartbeat.

But something in you settled as you began to idly pluck at the strings of your guitar, Harry sifting through his duffle bag until he produced his leatherbound journal from it. You felt comfortable, complete, not an atom out of place as you began to sing the lyrics of a partial song you were going to work on with your team today.

"There is a town, somewhere down a country road," you sang softly. "I see it now, take it everywhere I go. The river sways, I can almost here it now. As if to say, 'You're not the only one who wants a way out.'"

"That's nice," Harry said, his thumb tapping against his knee in time with the music coming from your guitar. "Something new?"

"I've had the idea for a song about a small town for a while," you said, fingers still plucking at the guitar strings, though not with much intent while you spoke to Harry. "My hometown."

Nodding, Harry said, "You don't talk about your home much."

"Not much to say," you shrugged. "At least I thought so. Now I just keep thinking how so much has changed since I moved away. How much I've changed,"

"Good changes, I hope," he said.

You shrugged again, trying not to let the topic make you squirm. You normally didn't around Harry, but perhaps being away from him for so long had you shying away just a little. "Good and...neutral, I guess. Sometimes I feel like I've changed so much I can't even reconcile who I was then and the person I am now. Not really sure if that's a good or bad thing yet. To be determined, I suppose."

Harry processed the information quietly, letting the conversation end there. You fell into a comfortable silence as both of you played around with lyrics and melodies in your own heads. You eventually grabbed your own journal to jot notes down in, and at one point Harry took your guitar into his own lap to play around, humming quietly to himself.

His plucking of the strings slowly became something less abstract and more concrete, and it eventually became the backdrop to your thinking process. You liked the tune he played better than what you'd originally come up with, and you let it guide your pen as you jotted down words and phrases until you eventually had something that might've been a pre-chorus or a bridge. Shifting closer to Harry on the couch, you showed him what you had so far, hoping he'd be able to fill in the gaps like he normally could.

You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he took your journal and pen from your offering hands. For a minute, the only sound was the tapping of the pen in his hand in time with the melody he'd been playing moments ago. You watched with slow blinking eyes as he eventually began to scribble his own little notes beside yours, sometimes writing lyrics of his own and occasionally circling a word you'd written and putting a suggestion above it.

The scratching of pen on paper was an unusual lullaby, but sure enough, the warmth emanating from Harry's body and the familiarity of this moment, yet something precious and new blooming between you, was enough for your breaths to deepen, your blinks to become fewer and far between. Even after being on a plane all the way from Japan, the scent of Harry's cologne and whatever laundry detergent he used lingered on his clothes. It was so familiar, as much of a welcome home as him actually being here beside you.

Breathing in deep, you huddled closer to Harry. Feeling your movements at his side, Harry shifted so that you were leaning against him more comfortably, his body solid yet soft beneath your cheek. "I missed this," you murmured, the words clinging together as you inched closer and closer toward sleep. "I missed you."

There was no stiffening of his posture at the words, no hesitation or uncertainty as he said, "I missed you too."

*.*

"Don't leave again," Y/n said.

Harry was pretty sure she was already half asleep, was sure she wouldn't even remember this conversation when she woke up in a couple of hours. But even so, the words made him pause, the pen in his hand jerking almost imperceptibly.

Y/n hadn't brought up his departure since he'd come back yesterday. Even now, she didn't sound resentful, though that could've been the fact that she was seconds away from falling asleep, but Harry didn't think so. Yet in her current limbo between states of consciousness, she revealed something that she probably wouldn't have if she'd been fully awake.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you by going," he said, and he knew he was a bastard for saying it when she was seconds from falling asleep.

A deep breath, then another, then another.

"Don't leave me again," was all she said in reply, perhaps all she could muster just before unconsciousness finally settled over her like a blanket.

Harry's heart clenched. Don't leave me again, she told him. He'd learned rather quickly that despite all that she'd been through, Y/n hid a gentle heart behind all those walls she put up. A heart that had been battered and bruised and hidden away after so much unhappiness. Harry realized early on in their semi-friendship that he never wanted to be the reason for another wall between Y/n and the rest of the world; he wanted to be someone she could entrust to protect her gentle soul, to be someone who helped her realize she was much more fierce than she knew.

Knowing he'd caused her pain by leaving dug at him, even if leaving was in some ways very necessary. Harry needed that distance, that time away to clean up the mess his ex had left in him. Nothing about his previous relationship's demise was simple, and the things he'd begun to feel for Y/n while still trying to untangle himself from his ex only complicated things. Harry knew it would be a disservice to both himself and Y/n if he jumped into something he wasn't ready for. He felt horrible that night she'd laid all her cards on the table before him. He knew that it had taken a lot to state what she wanted from him so plainly, to realize that she was still deserving of more after what she'd been through. And Harry had to offer the same honesty, even if it was something even he didn't want to hear.

But it had been the right thing. For both of them. Of that he was sure. Harry had done a lot of introspecting, had allowed himself to simply be alone in a way he hadn't been for a long time. His last relationship was perhaps the most significant, but it was one in a rather long list of failed attempts to find love. His friends often teased him for not knowing how to not be in a relationship, and after this last breakup, he realized how right they were.

Harry liked Y/n. He was fascinated by her talent as a songwriter and enamoured by the person she was outside the studio. He liked her chunky patterned sweaters and the array of rings on her fingers that changed from day to day. He liked that she wasn't perfect, that she was shy to an almost stubborn degree, that he had to work hard to piece together who she was bit by bit until a beautiful mosaic was laid out in front of him.

But he needed to know that he knew how to be alone before giving himself over to her entirely. Who was he outside of a romantic relationship? Harry honestly had no idea, and while that had never even so much as itched his brain before, it terrified him after things ended with his ex. He owed it to himself to try to stand on his own two feet, to live on his own and know that he could be content to do so. He didn't need a relationship to be happy, that was what he set out to discover.

And once he did. Once he lived and wrote songs and got coffee and ate by himself, and didn't feel like an utter disaster, he knew he'd be okay.

Harry enjoyed himself in Japan. He'd committed himself to this soul-searching endeavor and actually came out on the other side of it pleased with himself. And at the end of it all, when he knew a relationship with Y/n wasn't something he needed but something he wanted, he knew he was ready to go home. He wanted her a lot, to be fair, so much so that he often wrote about her, and talked about her to the few friends he made in Japan. But being alone didn't kill him, and he was able to see that for himself the two months he was gone.

He left his feelings for his ex in Japan, letting every last bit of baggage he'd been quietly carrying around with him slide off his shoulders, holding onto those precious little blossoms of feeling for Y/n and bringing them home, right to her doorstep.

The plan hadn't been to go straight to her apartment, but that was where he told his driver to go when he slid into the backseat of the sleek black car his manager had sent to pick him up. Harry was actually supposed to go home and rest so he could meet with his label and discuss the progress of his album, but he stayed at Y/n's place anyway. He knew these next few months as the album went into recording and production mode wouldn't leave much time to spend alone with Y/n, and he needed these fleeting moments. He needed to hear all about the new album she was helping to write and what she and Buddy Holly had gotten up to while he was gone. He needed to kiss her, to touch her, to let her fall asleep against him while they wrote a song about a small town.

"I won't, I promise," Harry murmured, even though he knew Y/n was already asleep.

It was perhaps a promise to himself. He knew Y/n would never be that vulnerable, wouldn't reveal just how much she cared for him if she'd been entirely conscious. She'd been forgiving, if not a little hesitant when he showed up on her doorstep, but she'd never resented him for leaving. At least he thought she didn't. She'd been understanding when he left, but in her sleepy state, he saw a little bit of the hurt he'd inflicted by leaving, by rejecting her desire for something more with him.

Harry knew he'd done it for the right reasons, but guilt curled in his chest at the thought of hurting Y/n. He would commit himself to not doing it again, to be someone worthy of her vulnerability. Harry was aware of how precious it was for Y/n to open herself up to him like this. He wouldn't take that gift for granted.

Shifting around a bit, Harry took Y/n into his arms and stood up. He padded down the carpeted hallway to her bedroom, where a large, four-poster bed with a mountain of pillows and one stuffed animal lay on. He set her down on white sheets with little red polka dots, pulling up the covers over both of them. Y/n curled into Harry immediately, and he didn't even bother trying to shove away the warmth that spread through him.

With Y/n's cheek squished adorably against his chest, Harry rested his arm behind his head as his eyes flitted about her bedroom.

He'd been inside it a handful of times, but it never failed to amaze him, because for someone so convinced they were undeserving of love, they sure loved heart decorations. Retro Valentine hearts were mounted on one wall, twinkly lights dangling between them; pink and red heart-shaped candles remained unlit on her vanity, a heart-shaped guitar on a stand next to it. Everything centered around something pink or red—the sheets, the pillows, the jewelry dishes and mirrors, even the stuffed bunny under her pillow that Harry knew Y/n slept with, even if she wouldn't admit it.

It was a mystery he'd yet to solve, but he imagined that would come in time.

Soon enough, Harry's own eyes began to droop. He nestled deeper into the bed, trying not to completely drape himself over Y/n. They'd never actually spent the night in the same bed before last night. Sometimes they'd fall asleep together on the couch, but this was different. Last night, they'd collapsed into bed after staying up late talking, nearly well into the morning. There had been no tangled limbs or breaths keeping time because they slept so close together, just two people in dire need of sleep.

In some ways, Harry wondered if it was too much as they were only just beginning to explore this thing between them, but he couldn't make himself leave. He turned over so his back was to her, trying to provide a modicum of space should Y/n want it, but not even a minute later, an arm snaked around his waist, a cheek pressed against his back as one of her legs slotted between his.

It was safe to say Harry fell asleep with a small grin and a full heart.

*.*

The following weeks flew by, and you saw Harry every single moment that you could.

Now that his album was in the later stages of production, he was constantly in meetings for promotion—release dates, interviews, live performances, and concept art for the album. You stayed out of those conversations, as you had your own projects to complete and deadlines to meet. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't curious. You'd never been part of those conversations before, as you merely wrote your songs and sold the demos to artists or bands. Seeing an album from start to finish was intriguing, though perhaps part of the reason was the hand you played in it and how important Harry was to you.

But even with all of that going on, Harry stayed true to his word.

He made every moment count. Suddenly there were flowers on top of the grand piano when you entered your studio, and he stopped by whenever he could. Each petal, each little note attached to the bouquets, filled your stomach with butterflies. And after you were both done for the day, Harry invited you over to cook dinner and listen to records. The atmosphere was different than before Harry left, a more romantic feel in the air as you sat across from each other, the warm glow of candles the only lighting in the room.

With the public attention Harry tended to get, you both agreed to keep things quiet for now. You'd always preferred anonymity, and although you knew your relationship would eventually become public, you wanted it to stay between you and Harry and your friends and family. Hopefully in the future, when this precious thing between the two of you wasn't so new, you would feel more comfortable. Until then, it would be secret dates and romantic dinners from home, but that didn't make it feel any less special or real.

It didn't take long for your friends to notice, though.

You and Harry didn't have much to hide in front of Sylvia and the rest of the people who made up your little group, but neither you nor Harry really went out of your way to tell anyone about the slight change since he had come back from Japan.

One night, Sylvia decided to switch up the usual gatherings from game night to a night at a karaoke bar. You didn't mind. In fact, you loved watching everyone drink and take up a mic in the private room that had been rented out. Harry stayed by your side most of the night, an arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb subtly sneaking beneath the hem of your patchwork top to graze your skin and leave goosebumps in its wake, and a neat tequila in his other hand, your leather jacket draped over his arm after he insisted on carrying it for you. You opted for a margarita, sipping on it idly while you went between talking to Harry and watching the chaos unfold in front of you.

"What do you say, are we up next?"

"We?" you asked incredulously. "You go. I've actually been wanting to see you perform."

Harry chuckled, his nose brushing against your temple. "Come on, love. For me?"

You both knew you had a soft spot when Harry pleaded with you. Just one more hour at his place, just one more kiss, getting his favorite takeout, all of it just required a slight widening of his eyes and him saying, "Pleeeease," or, "For me?" as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose, and he had you. It was mostly harmless, but just like all the other times, it was working now.

"I don't know..." you said anyway, a small grin creeping its way onto your face. Harry only doubled down, which was exactly your goal.

"Please? I'll make it worth your while."

So that was how you ended up in front of the rest of your group of friends, a mic in your hand as you waited for Harry to pick the song. When the opening chords sounded through the speakers, you beamed, looking over at him with raised brows. Harry just sauntered over to you with a small grin, dancing over to you in that silly way of his that you learned was a unique trait he possessed.

"Islands in the Stream" was one of the songs the two of you had bonded over the last few months. You'd played it for him on the drive to Buddy Holly's favorite dog park, and the two of you sang it most car rides ever since.

Harry started the song, and you joined in, keeping your eyes on him for most of it. He definitely had more stage presence than you did, which you were fine with, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy yourself. Harry's eyes were on you the whole time too, his hip bumping against yours and spinning you around occasionally.

By the time it was over, there were cheers all around, and not just because Harry kissed you at the end. You'd made it all of two steps off the makeshift stage in the private room before you were tugged into a corner away from everyone else.

"What the hell was that?"

Sylvia was looking at you with wide, surprised eyes, though a grin stretched her cheeks. You couldn't hide your blush, opting to take the drink that Harry handed you once he found you again. "What?"

"You—You two are unbelievable," she laughed. "So this is real now? You two aren't acting like children anymore and pretending you aren't in love with each other?"

Trust Sylvia to make things between you and Harry awkward. Both of you laughed, though yours was more nervous because she'd revealed a truth you weren't quite ready to accept. Harry merely draped a hand over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. "Looks like it, doesn't it?"

*.*

"You look nervous," you said, taking Harry's hand that rested on the gear shift.

"Me? Never," Harry insisted, though he gripped your hand a little too tightly for you to believe it.

"It's just one brother," you said, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.

You wouldn't lie to him and say meeting all three of your brothers at once would've been a walk in the park. But this was just Andrew, who was only in town for a night. You were pretty sure Hayden and Evan sent Andrew to investigate your relationship with Harry. For that exact reason, you hadn't divulged much to any of your brothers. After the whole, "Are you sure you're not menstruating" incident, you'd been giving Hayden the cold shoulder, so you knew for a fact that he'd enlisted Andrew's help to, at the very least, get back in your good graces, and hopefully get a little intel on your budding relationship.

"Andrew's harmless, I promise," you said. "He's about as threatening as a puppy."

Harry chuckled as he pulled into the trendy bar you had agreed to meet your brother at. "See, I want to believe you, but I've seen your brother play hockey, so...I don't."

Leaning across the center console, you kissed his cheek, quickly wiping away the lip gloss you'd left behind. Even in the dim lighting of the car, you saw Harry blush, which made you nudge him with your nose playfully. "I'll keep him in line, I promise."

You led Harry inside the bar, entering through a side door to remain relatively unnoticed, neck craning for your brother. Andrew wasn't hard to spot, his long arms waving back and forth from a tall table tucked in the corner of the bar. Squeezing Harry's hand once, you walked over to where your brother stood by waiting with open arms.

"How's my little sister?" Andrew asked as he squeezed the living daylights out of you.

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to remind him you were older. Instead, you stepped back and introduced him to Harry. For all his nerves, Harry didn't show it as he shook Andrew's hand and asked how he was doing. Even when you knew your brother squeezed his hand too hard, Harry just smiled and sat down on the barstool.

Things went surprisingly well. Despite your earlier reassurances, you'd been a little nervous about the questions Andrew might ask, ones not necessarily thought up by him, but by the brothers who were absent tonight.

"So, Harry, where do you see this relationship with my sister going? I noticed she didn't introduce you as her boyfriend."

Perhaps you'd spoken too soon.

"Andrew, seriously?" you said, kicking him under the table. "Tell Evan to butt out."

"Evan's not—"

"Oh please," you said. That question had your oldest brother written all over it. "Andrew, you leave our brothers out of this or I'll tell Harry what they used to call you in high school."

Blushing, Andrew backed down immediately, a flush crawling up his neck. You didn't like stooping to your brothers' level, usually the silent treatment got your brothers to grovel after pissing you off, but they really couldn't be surprised when you did from time to time. You learned from the best after all.

Clearing his throat, Harry broke up the stare down you and Andrew had been locked in. "Um, to answer your question, I think we both—not to speak for you, Y/n—but I think we both see this evolving into something more, we just haven't had that conversation yet."

His words filled you with warmth. You'd been thinking the same—you wanted more from Harry when he came back, and things had progressed from there. You didn't think boyfriend and girlfriend titles were far off, but now that you knew where you and Harry both stood, you were okay with taking things slow.

Not that Andrew, or your other brothers, for that matter, needed to know that.

The rest of the night went much better. Andrew eased up and was finally able to ask questions that had nothing to do with the intimate details of your relationship with Harry, and when Harry began asking Andrew about playoffs, it was all your brother could do to not talk about hockey.

Your brother left you and Harry in the parking lot with a final farewell of, "You're alright, Harry Styles, and you," he said facing you with a pointed stare. "Stop ignoring Hayden, please. You know how he gets when you don't give him attention."

Huffing, you said, "I'll think about it."

Andrew grinned. Your brothers were a lot of things, but from the moment you became a part of the family, you were a little princess to all of them. Evan, Hayden, and Andrew had their moments, but they never liked to make you too mad. Most of the time. Still, you knew Andrew, and you knew he liked to be the unspoken, "favorite brother."

Harry took you home, his hand in yours the whole way back. Neither of you said anything, unwinding from the interesting night. It honestly could've gone a lot worse, in your opinion. Andrew really was the least of your worries.

Like a gentleman, Harry walked you to the door when you got home. You held back from unlocking your apartment and stepping inside despite the cold, taking his hand in yours. "I'm sorry if things were a little tense tonight."

Harry shook his head. "You really have them wrapped around your finger, you know that?"

"They have good intentions. They just...they were all I had for a long time. They're protective. Especially Evan."

Growing up, your brothers were pretty much your whole family. You were all bonded by the same shitty father, growing up raising and protecting each other. You knew the questions and the protective attitudes came from a good place, especially after the way things broke down with Gavin and his family. Evan saw how much it affected you, and probably just didn't want to see you get hurt again.

"Well, I'm glad. Even if they do slightly terrify me."

"They're big pushovers," you said with a laugh. "And like you said, they're wrapped around my finger. You'll be fine, I promise."

Harry smiled, tipping your chin up. "Yeah? You promise?"

"Mhmm," was all you could manage as he began to kiss your neck, a chill that had nothing to do with the brisk weather licking down your spine. The excitement that surged through you almost had you leaping into his arms. You settled for wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know we've been taking things slow, but I—I wouldn't mind it."

"You wouldn't mind what?" Harry teased, pulling away slightly when you tried to kiss him. "Might need to do a little better than that if you want me to be your boyfriend."

Everything was so easy with Harry. The playful teasing, the serious conversations, getting drinks with your overprotective brother, all of it. You hadn't wanted someone this much since—well, since forever. Harry just made you so happy, and you wanted to chase that feeling, not hide from it. You spent way too much time hiding from life, from love.

Reaching up on your toes, you kissed him, your fingers curling around the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Harry backed you against the door to your apartment, the hum coming from his chest once your tongues brushed together reverberating through you. His cheeks were cold as you held them in your hands, and you wanted nothing more than to haul him inside and never let him leave. But he had to be up early tomorrow and had to go back to his cat. You would make sure he'd regret leaving, though.

Eventually, you let go of him, your hands smoothing down the knit sweater he wore. You'd spent ages on the phone with him as he freaked out over what to wear. One coat was too flashy, but that t-shirt said he wasn't putting in any effort and didn't care about meeting a member of your family. On and on until you eventually made him turn the camera around to face his closet and pick something out for him. Black jeans and a black sweater with colorful depictions of the solar system eventually convinced him to finally leave the house. It was a little silly, but you appreciated how much effort he wanted to put into meeting Andrew, who absolutely would have reported back to Hayden and Evan what Harry wore, but Harry didn't need to know that.

"I don't want to be scared of feeling good anymore," you whispered. "I don't want to feel guilty for chasing something that feels right. Please tell me you feel the same."

"I do," Harry murmured. His forehead rested against yours as his hands found the perfect place on your waist, finding the sliver of skin revealed between your halter top and your jeans, and the look in his eyes was something so comforting, a safe assurance you hadn't felt in a long time.

Harry made you feel safe. He made you smile and knew things about you no one else did, not even your brothers, and he didn't seem put off by it. He understood your creative process, gave you space when you needed it, and was there for you when needed someone but didn't know how to ask.

You were still perhaps too scared to even think about the word love, but looking up at Harry then, you thought there might be a day where you felt brave enough to tell him how you really felt.

*.*

The club was packed tonight, bodies surrounding you on all sides. As someone bumped into you from behind, you gripped Mitch's arm on instinct, determined not to fall over or get swept up in the sea of people waiting for the band to start their set.

"Remind me why we're here again?" you asked, shouting over the crowd and thumping bass.

For a moment, you worried Mitch hadn't heard you, but then he shouted back, leaning in close so you could hear him. "Because they asked us to be here. We heard their demos, and you said they had potential. And—"

"Alright, alright. I get it. I just didn't think there'd be this many people."

"Kind of a good thing though, isn't it?" a voice said from behind you.

Turning around, you couldn't help the wide grin that took over your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mitch give you a pointed look, but you ignored it, throwing your arms around Harry. "You found us!"

"Course. I could spot my two best friends from a mile away."

Being regarded as Harry's friend made your stomach tighten despite knowing he didn't mean it that way, especially since you were around so many people. And yet, it had you overthinking.

Don't be stupid, you thought, blinking those thoughts away. Squeezing Harry's hand once, you let go. "Did you get into the venue okay?"

You, Harry, and Mitch talked to—talked at, more like—each other before the show, huddled together and trying not to draw attention to yourselves. Because of the packed venue, you and Harry were able to stand relatively close to one another, your hands brushing occasionally. With Harry so close to you like this and unable to kiss his cheek at the very least, and you could tell he was having the same struggle. He was pressed up against your back, at one point, then his arm was draped over your shoulders, and when the lights finally dimmed as the set began, he was as close as he could be, his arm wrapped around your waist as you watched the band perform.

The band played music that was loud, full of heavy base lines and guitar riffs and drum solos that had the crowd jumping and jostling around. Harry was a steady force at your back until you eventually joined in with the audience, dancing along to the music beside Mitch.

In the few weeks you and Mitch worked on writing Cam's album together, you'd ended up spending more time outside of the studio as well. It was almost always music related, the two of you going out to see live performances in some form or another—local bands, shows at the Troubador and the Whiskey, performers just starting out in dive bars. It was something you typically did on your own, a good way to discover new artists and experience different sounds, and Mitch was more than happy to join you, showing you a couple of his favorite haunts, ones that he played in from time to time.

It was nice to get out of your apartment, to hang out with someone who appreciated discovering new music as much as you did. Mitch had helped you expand your horizons and had even taught you a thing or two about playing drums after you were particularly enthralled by a grunge band. It had become part of your routine as much as writing in the studio had—going out once or twice a week to find new talent and sometimes meeting up with the artist or band afterward to see if they were interested in collaborating. That wasn't always the goal, but there were moments when you couldn't help yourself.

"You were right. They do have potential," Mitch said. Both of you were buzzing after the performance, talking animatedly about the band and their set.

"I know! And I really liked their sound. There was something so nostalgic about it, but not in a gimmicky way, you know?"

Harry walked a couple paces behind you and Mitch as you ambled down the sidewalk toward where you'd parked. He'd been quiet coming out of the show, but you didn't think anything of it.

You kept talking to Mitch, promising to stop by the studio for another drum lesson when you had the chance, or when he had the chance, more like. Now that Harry's album was less an idea and more a fully realized project with a release date, Harry and Co. had been pretty busy lately. And once the album finally came out...well, you'd cross that bridge eventually.

When Mitch was gone, headed home in his car, you walked a little further to your side-by-side with Harry. You leaned in close, not really caring if anyone saw. Even through the layers of his heavy coat, you could feel the warmth that he emanated naturally. You loved being tucked into his side or curled around him, or just being as close to him as possible, an alarming amount. The word "love" fluttered through your mind every now and again, but you swatted it away every time. It was much too soon, and while you'd made many strides, there were still parts of you that remained afraid.

Afraid of what would happen if you got too attached and things ended, afraid of the distance rapidly approaching once Harry's album came out, afraid of your inner saboteur. It was all there, lingering, waiting to strike at any moment.

"Good show, right?" you said to Harry, eager to shake off the dark turn your thoughts had taken. "Mitch and I have been wanting to see them for ages."

"Yeah," he said, his eyes remaining on the street ahead. Then, "I...I didn't realize you spent so much time with him while I was gone."

"I honestly didn't expect to, but he was still working in the studio. We made quite the team."

Because you were so close, you felt Harry's whole body stiffen. A split second too late, you realized your poor choice of words.

"I—I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, Y/n," Harry said, and he didn't sound mad at all. Maybe just a little hurt, but you had a feeling he was trying his best not to make you feel bad. "I can't be upset that you kept working when I left. That's silly of me."

"It's not," you assured. "I—You're kind of the reason I pushed myself to work with him, and others," you admitted.

"Really?"

Nodding, you said, "I've always worked on my own. Always. But then we started writing together and things just clicked, and when you left, I—I didn't want to deny myself the opportunity to make great music. I mean, you and your team were doing incredible stuff even before I came along. I guess I just wanted to be a part of something great in that way too. Mitch helped introduce me to a new artist and we collaborated on a project of our own. I didn't...I didn't want to go back to being alone again.

"But it isn't the same," you said, stopping Harry in his tracks. Looking up at him, you smiled, for no other reason than he was there and he was yours. "We...We work differently together. You have to know that."

Harry's responding grin was small. "It is quite magical, isn't it?"

Reaching up on your toes, you kissed him, your hand cupping his cheek gently. The kiss was slow, gentle, a reassurance for the both of you. When you leaned back, yours and Harry's cheeks were flushed as you grinned brightly at each other.

As you slid into the passenger seat of Harry's car, you said, "I can't believe you'd be jealous of Mitch."

Harry ducked his head bashfully. "Oh hush. I was not."

"He's your best friend, H," you giggled. "Not to mention very, very taken."

"I believe I mentioned it was silly, didn't I?"

Taking his hand, you kissed the top of it. "You did."

Harry peeled out of his parking space, promising to make it up to you as he handed his phone over to choose the playlist for the ride home.

When you unlocked his phone, the home screen wasn't what popped up. Instead, the messages app was open, a string of messages that hadn't been replied to yet, going back a few weeks.

Can we talk?

I miss you. I miss us.

The silent treatment is childish, H.

Please call me.

Your hands suddenly felt cold and clammy, and Harry's phone nearly slipped out of them and onto the floor.

"Everything okay?"

Harry's voice dragged you out of whatever headspace you'd been launched into. Looking up, you mustered a smile, hoping the car's darkness would mask how flimsy it truly was.

"Yeah. Fine," you said, your voice not sounding like your own.

Quickly exiting out of the app, you pulled up his music, choosing a playlist at random before setting his phone down in the cup holder.

You felt like you were on one of those theme park rides, the ones that reach the heights of tall buildings just to fall straight down. You felt weightless, but not in a good way. It was as if you were falling and there was nowhere safe to land. That feeling in your stomach only grew until you were sure you were going to be sick.

Harry continued on none the wiser, chatting about this and that. You weren't exactly sure what he said, his voice was suddenly white noise. But you must've given him coherent responses because he didn't question your behavior. The only time he did was when you didn't invite him up to your apartment.

"I'm just really tired," you managed to say. "One too many margaritas, I guess."

Not putting up too much of a fight, Harry grinned and gave you a kiss. Despite the dread you felt, it still filled you with butterflies. You cared for him so much you didn't know what to do with yourself sometimes. And now there was...this.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said, a sweet smile on his face.

He acted as if nothing was wrong, and it was convincing too. Almost to the point that you wanted to believe it too. Those messages were days old, save the most recent one, and Harry hadn't replied to any of them. That had to mean something.

Right?

*.*

After mentioning what you found to Sylvia, she demanded that what you needed was retail therapy. Shopping wasn't your favorite pastime, but you desperately needed a friend.

You met with her at an outdoor shopping mall, bundled up in your softest sweatshirt and puffy coat for comfort more than because of the weather. You hadn't wanted to go out at all today, or the last couple days since you saw Harry's messages. There had been an attempt to have Sylvia just come over so you could day drink together, but she wasn't having it.

So now you were wading through store after store, internally freaking out about where your relationship was headed. It was just getting off the ground, and now it was crumbling before your eyes. Harry was none the wiser, of course, but that was only because he was busy this week and you pretended to be busy because you weren't sure if you could keep it together in front of him. You needed a third-party perspective, a voice of reason before you sat down and talked to him about all this.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Sylvia asked gently.

One thing you liked about Sylvia was that she was bold and brash and didn't try to mince her words, but you appreciated her tone now. Friend of Harry's first or not, she was here for you, and seeing as there weren't many people you could turn to, you needed her now more than ever. You could talk to your brothers, but you didn't want them to come out and hurt him. You would go to them if there was something serious going on.

"I...I thought we were finally on the same page," you said, and then it all came spilling out of you. You replayed that night in Harry's car as you combed through a rack of dresses. Sylvia was quiet through all of it, not saying anything until you were finished. "I don't know what to do. Is he—I never asked because it wasn't really my business, but he was clearly torn up over their break up. Do you think it's possible that he's not over her?"

Because that was what kept you up at night. Before he left, Harry hadn't been ready for a relationship. You knew there wasn't an exact timeline for healing a broken heart, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and now all you could think about was him leaving you for his ex. The thought terrified you. It made you want to run before you learned the truth, spare yourself the trouble of looking like an idiot.

But you called Sylvia instead, knowing running was not the best option, even if it was the most familiar.

"Oh, babe," she sighed. "I'm not going to lie, Harry was in love with her. They were...there's no other way to put it. They loved each other."

The whimper that escaped your lips was an accident, and when Sylvia heard it, she pulled you in for a hug. "He was in love with her," she repeated as she ran a soothing hand up and down your back. "I truly believe he's moved on Y/n. Harry wouldn't do that to you."

"But what about her?" you said. "She wants him back, and he—he didn't tell me that she's been reaching out, and I just can't help but feel like their history will win out."

"I don't think you realize how happy you make him," Sylvia said. "Yes, Harry loved her, but they broke up for a reason. I don't see him giving things a second go, especially now that he's with you. He's happy, Y/n. He's happy because you make him happy. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all this. You just have to sit down and hear him out."

"You really think so?"

"He lights up at the mere mention of your name. You—You're like the sun to him," Sylvia promised. "So don't run from this, okay? Talk to him. Hear him out. Make him sweat a little for keeping this from you, but you owe it to yourself to hear his side of things."

You nodded, feeling a little reassured by what she'd said. You wouldn't feel a hundred percent until you talked things out with Harry, but this is a good start. At the very least, it kept you from wanting to run and hide from all this.

Laughing a little, you wiped a stray tear from your eye. "You know, when you said you were Harry's life coach, I didn't imagine you'd end up being mine too."

"It's what I'm good for," she said. "Now, let's see about doing a little shopping, hm? Ooh! And maybe we get our nails done."

Looping her arm through yours, she dragged you into the next aisle, feeling lighter with every step you took.

*.*

"Where is he? I'll kill him!"

This was the third time you'd heard that in the last couple of hours.

"Stand down, Hayden," you said from beneath your mountain of blankets. "He's not here."

Your brother's eyes widened as he looked in your direction, as if he didn't expect the pile of blankets to speak. He stalked over to where Andrew and Evan were standing in front of you, taking on a perplexed disposition. None of your brothers had ever really seen you this way. All the pranks, all the times they royally pissed you off when you were younger, you never really let it get to you. You could tell that although they wanted to be here for you, they weren't entirely sure how.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Just let me know where he is, Y/n."

They were doing their best to help, and you knew you owed them answers. You did call them after all. Well, that wasn't entirely true. You called Evan, who proceeded to call Andrew because your younger brother was closest in proximity to you. And Andrew called Hayden because of course he did. It was sweet that they all dropped everything to come see you, but now you felt put on the spot.

And you knew Hayden would make good on his word, and your other two brothers would have no trouble helping him, and that wasn't exactly what you wanted.

"I ended things with Harry," you said quietly.

"You said as much in your text, Y/n," Evan said. "But what happened? It seemed like you guys were really happy."

The thought of last night's events replayed in your mind, bringing a fresh wave of tears to the surface. Taking a shuddering breath, you said, "I thought we were too."

It all started last night at this party Harry invited you too. Something about fundraising and live music and dancing, and he said it was the perfect opportunity to get dressed up and go out and not worry about being photographed. You agreed, wanting to put the text messages from his ex that had yet to be discussed far from your mind. You knew you should've said something, but you wanted to give Harry the opportunity to come clean himself. The fact that he hadn't kept you up at night, but you promised yourself—and Sylvia—that you would bring it up after the party.

"Just one more night of normalcy before we have this conversation," you assured her. It was all you wanted. Just one night where this cloud wasn't hanging over your head.

So you went. Harry picked you up in a sports car that usually sat in his garage, practically mauling you when he saw you in your dress. It was simple, but you felt great in it—a short black number with white ruffles at the top and bottom. With your hair blown out and curled to perfection, little pearl droplets hanging from your ears, you felt like a dream, and every time Harry's gaze fell on you to track your figure up and down, your entire body was filled with butterflies.

And the night carried on perfectly. You and Harry sipped on champagne and kept to yourselves most of the night. You didn't really know anyone, and he was perfectly happy to keep you all to himself, kissing your cheeks and neck whenever he could, his hand never leaving your waist for a moment. It was exactly what you needed to take your mind off everything that had been swirling around in your head the last few days. When Harry was dancing and spinning you around in and out of his arms in a corner of the event space, it felt like you were the only two people to exist. There was no way he had any lingering feelings for his ex when he was smiling so brightly and laughing as you spun him out and back into your arms.

And then...it all just fell apart.

"Harry?"

At the sound of the woman's voice, Harry dropped your hand, coming to an abrupt halt beside you. You looked up, confused by the tension that suddenly lined his shoulders, but when you looked at the women who'd come up to your little corner, you just knew.

"H—Hi." Harry sounded breathless, his eyes never leaving hers once. All you could do was watch it all unfold in slow motion, all you could feel was the loss of his touch now that his hand was no longer in yours.

You cleared your throat when Harry didn't say anything. It was as if you had to pull him from whatever trance he'd fallen into at the mere sight of her. Dread filled your belly as he seemed to remember where he was, as he remembered you were there, blinking as he embraced his ex and introduced her to you.

"This is my friend Y/n."

His words felt like a sucker punch, all the air stolen from your lungs. You knew you and Harry hadn't put a label on your relationship, but to hear him refer to you as his friend right in front of his ex was devastating.

Your heart was glass, I dropped it.

Was this what it felt like? You never imagined you would be in this position, you never thought you would love someone enough to feel like you were coming undone at the seams at this kind of rejection. But perhaps that was just the universe coming to collect after thoroughly breaking someone else's heart yourself.

"I—I need some air," you heard yourself saying, not even looking to see if Harry noticed you leave or if he was too caught up in seeing his ex.

You didn't just get air, you Ubered home, unable to handle everything rushing through you. That was when you texted Evan, who merely responded with, I'm on my way, and twenty-four hours later, he was there, along with Hayden and Andrew.

You explained to your brothers what happened briefly, doing your best to not go into detail so you wouldn't start crying uncontrollably, though you'd be surprised if you had any tears left. You mostly just felt defeated, almost as if deep down you knew the happiness wasn't meant to last.

"He's an idiot, Y/n," Andrew said, resting a hand on Buddy's head to scratch him behind the ears. Your dog had been resting by your side since you came back last night, somehow sensing your despair. "Don't let him steal your happiness."

You nodded, but only because you had nothing else to say. You knew your brother meant well, but you just didn't believe him. This was par for the course in your eyes. Of course, when you fell for someone, they chose someone else. Maybe you were destined to be on your own, maybe love was overrated.

"Do you need anything?" Evan asked you, Hayden standing next to you. You could tell that they didn't really know what to do in this situation but that they wanted to be there for you. It was sweet, but there really wasn't anything to do.

"I'm okay," you said, convincing no one. "I think I might just take a nap."

"We can take Buddy for a walk. Maybe grab some food while we're out," Evan said. "Andrew, why don't you stay here and make sure she doesn't text him."

You rolled your eyes. "I literally just said I was going to sleep—"

"On it," Andrew said, hopping up to take your phone from where it was resting on your kitchen counter and slipping it into his pocket.

It was utterly ridiculous, but you were sure that was what your brothers were going for. The four of you weren't the touchy-feely type, you never had been. But one thing your brothers could count on was their ability to make you smile, make you laugh. And that was maybe exactly what you needed.

Making good on your word, you retired to your room, but you didn't sleep a wink despite how exhausted you were. Instead, you stayed up listening to records, shared favorites of yours and Harry's, the ones you bonded over together. It was hard to imagine that after such deep connections, the number of stories shared and late nights talking over bottles of red wine. Harry meant so much to you, and it killed you to think you didn't mean as much to him.

At some point, you must've dozed off—your eyes fluttering shut to the sound of Joni Mitchell—because suddenly you were jolting awake with a start. Muffled shouts could be heard through your closed door, which could only mean one thing.

Taking a couple minutes to wake up a little more and bolster yourself for unwanted confrontation, you finally stepped out of your room. The voices grew louder as you walked down the hall—Andrew kept telling Harry to leave while Harry claimed he just wanted to talk to you. You weren't sure if you were ready for this conversation yet, but it was here whether you liked it or not, and it would probably be for the best before Evan and Hayden came back or the argument happening at your front door drew unwanted attention.

"You can let him in."

Your voice was quiet, but not unsteady, which came as a surprise to you. It surprised your brother and the person who would've been your boyfriend too, their argument ceasing immediately as they looked over at you.

"Y/n," Harry breathed.

For better or for worse, he looked about as awful as you felt. There were bags under his eyes, and he was in the clothes he wore to the party last night. His tan trousers were rumpled, belt missing; his satin shirt was heavily wrinkled, the buttons mismatched in the wrong holes. His hair was a mess too, as if he'd been tossing and turning all night.

You didn't like seeing him like this, hated it, in fact. This wasn't supposed to be yours and Harry's story. You thought both of you had experienced the heartbreak and had found each other on the other side of it. Now you felt like you were right back where you started, and you hated it.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Andrew said, glancing warily between you and Harry. "Hayden and Evan will be back soon—"

"It's fine, Andrew. I promise," you told him, stepping closer to the front door cautiously, worrying that getting too close would ensnare you in Harry's magnetic pull. One whiff of his cologne might send you right into his arms, where your heart still thought it was safe. "Keep them occupied for me?"

It was clear that Andrew didn't agree with you on this decision. He stood there by the door for a long while, trying to assess your mental state. But he finally relented, taking a few steps toward you to hug you tightly. "Don't be afraid to give him hell," he murmured in your ear. Then, after passing back your phone, he left, but not before glaring murderously in Harry's direction.

When you and Harry were finally alone, your apartment was silent for the first time in hours. Almost too silent. Harry just stared at you with this broken look in his eyes, and you...you couldn't dredge up the energy to start this conversation. It was clear Harry didn't either. You watched as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, but you had no desire to help him out.

"Can we sit?" he finally asked, his voice sounding tired and raw.

Unable to handle the look in his those devastated green eyes, you looked down at where your sweatshirt engulfed your hands. "I'd prefer it if we didn't."

Sitting meant forced proximity, and you were already pushing yourself to have this conversation. This distance between you and Harry would be where you drew the line.

"Oh," Harry said, sounding surprised. "Okay. I—I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/n."

"For what exactly?" you asked, not expecting the bitterness in your tone.

"For making it seem like we were just friends in front of her, for freezing last night. I—She'd been texting me the last few days and I've ignored her, but I didn't expect to see her."

"I know about the texts," you found yourself saying.

It was clear Harry hadn't expected that. A look of confusion passed over his face as he asked, "Wh—Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?" you said, unable to hide the hurt, the betrayal.

"It was nothing, and I didn't want to bring any attention to it. I thought if I just ignored her enough, she would stop, and she did eventually stop, but then I saw her last night, and I didn't want to make her feel worse by showing her I'd moved on—"

"But you haven't," you said. "You're...protecting her. Sparing her feelings while fucking me over. I—I could've gotten over the texts. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt because you hadn't responded to her. But watching you call me your friend was such a slap in the face."

"I'm sorry, I fucked up. I know I did," Harry said, tears pooling in his eyes.

You could tell he meant it. You knew he realized what he'd done was shitty, but could you move on from it?

"I believe that you're sorry," you said. At that, something like hope flickered in his face, but you snuffed it out just as quickly as it came. "But I also think you still have unresolved feelings for her. And I—I don't want to be second to you. Not in that way."

"So that's it?"

You knew Harry like the back of your hand. You knew what the little quiver of his lip meant, understood the tight clench of his fists around the hem of his shirt. You could read every line of emotion on his face, and you wondered if he could pick you apart the same way.

"You know, all this time we've bonded over our respective heartbreak as if our pain was the same," you said, more to yourself than to him. "But what I'm realizing now, what I started to realize last night, was that mine stemmed from feelings of inadequacy, of never being enough for someone. I broke up with someone because I wasn't in love with them, and that devastated me. But you...no matter how the relationship fell apart or who ended it, you loved her, and she loved you. That feeling doesn't just wash away with the evening tide."

"Y/n—"

"And that's...that's okay, you know?" you continued. "You loved her. Love her. That's not a bad thing. But—But I'm in love with you too, and I can't—I'm not going to compete with someone who already has your heart. I won't."

Tears kissed your cheeks as you blinked. Your hands shook, but your voice was clear. Harry could deny it all he wanted, but you saw the truth laid bare before you. You weren't the only person occupying space in his heart, and after everything you'd been through, you didn't want to settle for anything less than what you deserved.

"That's not true, Y/n," Harry implored. He looked a little frantic now that he knew your mind was practically made up. "I fucked up, I know that. I saw her, and I froze. It was just—"

An instinct, a gut reaction, that was what he didn't want to say. "I don't want someone's initial reaction to be to let go of my hand," you said softly, wiping away a tear with a sleeve-covered hand. "I want—"

Your mom's ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet. That song you'd written all those months ago, the one that held your deepest regrets and insecurities, all the little things you'd run from. You didn't want to run from it anymore. You thought you found someone to run toward, but you were wrong.

"I don't want what we have to be over, Y/n," Harry pleaded.

I don't believe you, you thought, and you couldn't be with him if you didn't trust his sincerity. "I think you need more time," you said instead of voicing what you felt.

"There's no convincing how much I feel for you, is there?" he said, sounding resigned to the fate that had come to pass.

You shook your head, your heart begging you to hold onto him and not let go, to drag him to bed and sleep until you both forgot. But you didn't do any of those things. "No. Not right now."

Harry finally bridged the gap between you and him. He kept a sliver of distance, the only contact he made being gentle fingers tilting your chin so you'd meet his eye. There was so much emotion swirling there, and you longed to kiss away all the anguish and pain until only love was left, but that wasn't in the cards. Not today, or in the days that would follow.

"I promised you that I wouldn't leave again," Harry said, his gaze unrelenting. Your brow furrowed, not recalling when he made that promise, but he continued before you could ask. "Not in the ways that count anyway, but I intend to keep that promise, Y/n. If you want space, I'll give it to you, but don't think for one second that I won't spend every single moment we're apart wishing we were together. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that's what it takes."

It was a surprise your body didn't turn to jello on the spot, that Harry couldn't hear the steady thump of your heart as it beat wildly in your chest. He said all the right things, every perfect word, but right now, that was all they were. And you didn't have it in you to believe him.

"I'm sorry that I did this to us, to you," he said. "I'll never not be sorry. "

Harry stood there, his fingers gingerly holding your chin, for a few moments longer. It was as if he was imploring you to read the message in his eyes, to understand everything he wasn't saying, but you just didn't have the energy.

When he finally left, one last promise that wasn't giving up on you and him yet on his lips before the door clicked shut, all the warmth in your body went with him. You briefly thought of all the times you clung to him to warm up, slipping his hands beneath his shirts and sweaters and nuzzling your face in his neck.

That last touch of Harry's fingers to your chin wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and now he was gone. The person you fell in love with, who knew you better than anyone else in the world, walked out the door, head held high as if this wouldn't be the last time you'd be standing so close.

You weren't convinced. Not when all your mind wanted to replay was his hand dropping yours, his dismissal of your relationship, and his disregard for your feelings to protect those of his ex.

*.*

You didn't see Harry in the weeks that followed, but you weren't sure if that had more to do with him working on his album. Sylvia kept you semi-updated, even though you insisted you were fine with not knowing what he was up to. It was a lie, of course, and she saw right through it, letting you know when Harry was gone for music video shoots, recording and producing music, album cover shoots, and meetings with his label.

Part of you was grateful he wasn't around because it made keeping your distance easier. After everything that happened, you convinced yourself Harry didn't know what he wanted, even if he claimed he was. The proof had been right in front of you, though, clear as day. There were unresolved feelings lingering in the corners of Harry's heart and mind, and he needed to deal with them or get back together with his ex, but you wanted no part of it.

That wasn't to say Harry wasn't on your mind. He was there constantly, taking up space and making you lose focus while writing or walking your dog. You'd never been in love before, and now that everything had imploded, you didn't know how to make it stop.

“Y/n?”

Blinking, you looked up to where Mitch stared at you, an acoustic guitar in his lap. You weren't sure why you agreed to meet with him for a writing session. You hadn't written much since everything fell apart, save the occasional depressing poem, but when Mitch reached out, you figured it was as good a time as any to get back to work and start writing again.

In theory, it was a good idea, but your heart just wasn't in it. It was thousands of miles away shooting a music video.

"Sorry, I thought this would be a good idea, but my head is just all over the place," you said, closing your notebook that only had a few disconnected lines written down.

"I'm sorry about everything," Mitch said. "I know it probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but he really does care about you. Like a lot."

"I know," you said dejectedly. "But he...he still loves her, I think. Or cares for her more than he lets on. Maybe even more than he realizes."

That night, you realized you had a losing hand. You didn't want to run like you'd done with Gavin, but you didn't want to fight either. You just felt...defeated, as if the fickle promise of love had bested you again.

"I can promise you he doesn't, but I know that's between you and him," Mitch said. Nodding to the journal in your lap, he asked, "Can I see?"

Shrugging, you handed it over. At this point, Mitch had learned a lot about you by being your writing partner, so you didn't mind him flipping through it. And honestly, there wasn't much to show anyway. A couple of measly lines did not a song make.

Mitch was quiet as he looked over the few things you'd written down, his expression gloriously passive as always. Since you started writing together, you'd struggled to read his expressions, not knowing what he thought until he voiced his opinion.

"Well, shit, kid," Mitch murmured on an exhale.

"What?"

Mitch looked up, one brow raised. Then, he began to read lines from your journal. "You've got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes...My hand's a risk I fold...Test of my patience, there's things that we'll never—"

"Hey wait a minute, that's not from today," you said, reaching for your journal. Mitch managed to land on one of your poems from a few days ago. That definitely wasn't meant to be part of today's writing session. "Give that back."

"This is good, Y/n. There's a song in here," Mitch insisted.

"Oh please. That's a terribly depressing poem fueled by a bottle of wine."

He pinned you with a stare, but you ignored it, and he eventually let it go. You didn't stay in the studio much longer after that, realizing that not much was going to come out of this session. And Mitch had to leave too, having to catch a redeye to London. "We're finishing up the album there," he explained.

It dawned on you then that you would be alone again. After becoming so used to having a partner of some kind while writing, too. It shouldn't have affected you so much, but it did. Somehow you'd grown to appreciate company while you were writing, and now your two favorite writing partners were leaving. They were the only two you'd ever had, but as history had shown, you weren't a huge fan of change.

You'd grown comfortable, but now the ground was shaking and crumbling beneath you. Though perhaps that should've been the familiar feeling.

"Can I keep the song?" Mitch asked on your way out of the studio. "I have an idea."

This time, you could read what was on your friend's face. And you could sense it, somehow. He wanted to show it to Harry. For the album, or because Mitch felt Harry needed to read the words. At this point, you were emotionally drained, and you weren't going to be there when Harry read your little poem, anyway. What did it matter?

"That's fine," you said, tearing the page out of your journal. "Don't be a stranger, okay? We can still collaborate over the phone or voice notes or whatever."

You thought that was where you and Mitch would leave things, but then he asked, "Do you think you'll ever write with him again?"

Harry was so much more than the person you were in love with. He was your friend, your first ever writing partner, someone you'd confided in. But he was also the person who made you feel betrayal and heartache. You didn't know how to reconcile those two people.

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I hope so."

*.*

There wasn't a single moment where Harry didn't think of Y/n while they were apart. He'd done what she'd asked of him, gave them the space to heal and settle. Harry understood where she was coming from, and he knew that he'd hurt her more than he ever imagined he would.

Everything fell apart so completely, too quickly for him to even pick up the pieces.

He knew he should've told her about the texts the minute he received them, and he couldn't really pinpoint why he didn't. It was in no way to hurt Y/n, or to protect his ex; honestly, he should've just deleted them as they came, but he didn't, and things only went downhill from there.

Harry didn't want space, he knew what he wanted, who he wanted. But he also knew that what he'd done, how he behaved, gave Y/n every right to push him away and not trust him. All he knew was that he'd never regretted anything more than seeing the devastated look on her face when they ran into his ex.

He couldn't take back what he'd done, all he could do was try to make things right the second Y/n gave him the opportunity. Thankfully, recording and producing his second album kept him busy enough to give her the space she'd asked for. Had he liked being so far away from her, both physically and emotionally? No. Hell no, but he just put everything he was feeling into his music, let it fuel him as he and his team found the sound he was going for with this project.

It wasn't until weeks after they'd ended things that he heard from Y/n. Really, Mitch had passed a folded up piece of paper with song lyrics on it and said it was Y/n's, but Harry was so desperate to get something from her that he'd counted it. "I have an idea for it. I just need you to finish it," Mitch had said.

"Finish it?" Harry asked as he unfolded the paper.

To him it looked like a poem, but Mitch seemed to be convinced it was a song. He read over it briefly, then again, and again and again until he was standing in front of his friend for an awkward amount of time.

"She's speaking to you in this," Mitch explained. "It could be a kind of conversation."

The idea had perplexed him, and at first, Harry had said no. It wasn't until the next evening when he was alone in his flat that he considered the folded piece of paper. He thought about all the songs he'd written with Y/n, the thoughts and feelings they'd shared with each and every lyric and melody. This wasn't the same, not even close. He just wanted things to go back to normal; he wanted to relive the moments where Y/n would sit with her guitar, her journal and his in his lap as they compared notes and ideas.

But this would have to do for now.

He didn't try to get in Y/n's head, to try to understand what she might've been feeling at the time she wrote the poem, though he had a pretty good idea. Harry merely did what Mitch suggested and responded to the lines already written down, adding them in where he saw fit.

"Put a price on...emotion, I'm looking for...something to buy," he murmured, quickly scribbling the words down before he forgot them. "I don't want to fight you, and I don't want to sleep in the dirt."

Writing this song gave Harry the opportunity to finally let go. Through it he was able to admit that he had been clinging to a crisp trepidation, a fear of giving all of himself over to Y/n with abandon. For a number of reasons—that things with Y/n would end up in flames like all his other relationships (check), that he didn't even know what love looked like anymore after so many failed attempts at finding it, that he wasn't good enough to be someone Y/n deserved, , that he was going to lose her forever if he didn't pull himself together enough for her.

By the time Harry was done, he felt dejected. The finished song was sad, too sad. It was about heartache and fear, it sounded finite. And that wasn't what he wanted his story with Y/n to be.

We'll be fine, he wrote before quickly crossing it our. Fine. Fine. Finefinefinefinefine—

"We'll be a fine line," Harry finally murmured.

He spent the rest of the night figuring out arrangements and melodies, all of it coming together in his head almost faster than he could write it all down. The album was pretty much in the final stretch. At this point, he and his team were finishing up recordings and working on the promotional aspects of the release, but he knew it down to every atom of his being that this song had to be on the album. It was the culmination of everything he'd experienced and felt, every emotion he'd embraced and shied away from. All of it crashed into each other in a blaze of horns and strings.

And maybe when he finally finished working through the main melody on his guitar, something soft and melancholic, yet soothing and hopeful, he should've gone right to sleep. He honestly should've been exhausted after the emotional whirlwind he'd been wrapped up in. Yet he somehow had his phone in his hands, his thumb hovering over a contact before he eventually hit the call button.

"Harry? What—Isn't it like four in the morning over there?"

Harry couldn't stop his breath from hitching when he heard Y/n's voice. He'd missed her so much it physically hurt sometimes. Part of him thought she wouldn't answer his call, but when she did, his entire body sagged with relief.

"I miss you," he said, not caring how pathetic he sounded. "I know I messed up, and I know I hurt you, and you probably were just being nice by suggesting the whole space thing when you really want nothing to do with me ever again—"

"Harry," Y/n said, her voice gently but firm. "Slow down, love."

Harry could've cried at the softness in her tone let alone the term of endearment. All he'd wanted for the last few weeks was to just hear her voice, her his name on her lips in a way that didn't sound hurt or disappointed.

"You were right," he told her. "I—I was holding back from you, and that wasn't fair to either of us, but especially to you. Y/n, I—I'm so sorry."

"I know you are," she whispered. "I think...I think I just wanted you to want me as much as I did."

"I do," Harry promised. "I know I haven't given you much to believe me, but Y/n the way I feel about you is so different than I've ever felt about anyone, and I think part of me was scared of that too after such a tremendous breakup."

For a moment, Y/n was silent over the phone, her breaths filling up his ear and making him long for the moments they spent huddled up in bed together.

"I know...I know we've been here before, but do you think we could try things again?" he asked. He almost didn't want to know, believing that perhaps ignorance really was bliss. But Y/n had put herself out there so many times, had taken so many risks despite everything she'd experienced. He could be brave too.

"What if—What if we started over?" she said.

"Start over?"

"I think we need a clean slate. If you're really and truly over your ex—"

"I am. I swear, Y/n," Harry said, not wanting hope to spark to life in him just yet.

"Then we need to put all of this mess behind us and start fresh."

"I—I'd like that." He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. When he called Y/n, he worried he'd come off a little crazy due to lack of sleep, but now he worried he might've fallen asleep in a songwriting craze and was now dreaming.

"I, um, I know you offered a few months ago, but if you were still looking for someone to join your band...maybe I could fill that spot?"

"You want to work for me?"

"I wasn't going to put it like that, but I guess technically yes," Y/n said. "I feel like you would pay a fair wage."

Harry chuckled, a satisfied sort of exhaustion taking over him now that he felt like his life was getting back on track. "I'll give you whatever you want if it means you'll join."

He just wanted her close, and if this was what a clean slate looked like to her, then he would oblige. Having her close, playing music together, being surrounded by their friends, it would be exactly what they needed to find their way back to each other.

"You should probably go to bed," Y/n said, breaking the content silence that had settled over them.

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed, running a tired hand over his face. "So what have you been listening to recently?"

For a moment, he thought she would insist he get some rest. He supposed he'd be okay with it, finding peace in the fact things were finally looking up for them. But then she answered, and Harry was sure he'd never be able to wipe the smile from his face as he listened to his girl.

*.*

Months later

"Are you in love with Harry?"

The question wasn't directed at you, but you felt your cheeks redden immediately.

Sarah, who was much more quick on the draw than you would've been, smiled and said, "We all are, yeah."

You forced a soft laugh, unsure of where to direct your gaze. This whole interview had been one huge vat of chaos—and blatant misogyny—from the start, but Harry had conducted himself well so far, not balking or raising his voice once at the invasive and downright rude questions that were thrown at him. Perhaps you should've expected a question like this today, but you still struggled to keep your face neutral.

"So there's nothing going on romantically with Harry and the ladies?"

You suddenly found the keyboard in front of you incredibly interesting. What you really needed in this moment was a reassuring glance from Harry, but that would defeat the purpose of keeping your budding relationship a secret.

Attention from the public was still something you were getting used to. You'd gotten into songwriting because it was out of the public eye, but being with Harry would eventually lead you right into it. Not that you minded, you'd do whatever it took to be with him. But interviews like this one still left you feeling flustered.

"And who's back there on keys?"

Even though they were all your friends, you still felt your face flush as red as the leather skirt you wore for the interview.

"Y/n."

"That's Y/n."

"How are you doing back there, Y/n?"

"Fine," you managed to say, your voice barely above a squeak.

Risking a glance at Harry, you met his gaze. He gave you an encouraging smile, and it bolstered your confidence the slightest bit. Just enough to get you through this brief conversation.

"Just fine? Does Harry make you nervous?"

"Maybe Y/n's the one who's in love with him."

"Or maybe she just wants to fuck him!"

An awkward silence fell over the room after the interviewers' comments and questions. You didn't even know what to say, or how you were expected to respond. Feeling the sympathetic stares from the rest of the band, you took a deep breath and tried not to cry, feeling extremely embarrassed.

Harry's jaw ticked, and you were pretty sure you were the only one who noticed. It was the first time he'd reacted to any of the questions asked today. And you could see it in his face that he was beyond pissed off.

This wasn't what you expected, and clearly Harry hadn't expected it either. But you also didn't want him to storm off and make a big scene. You just wanted to get through today and go home and rest with Buddy and Sweet Pea while you and Harry watched a movie together in bed. That thought kept you grounded, and you tried your hardest to convey to Harry that you were okay without saying anything.

"I, um, I met Harry in the studio in LA," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Y/n's a songwriter, but she's generously lent her fabulous keyboarding skills to us this year," Harry said.

"A songwriter?" You felt the interviewer's gaze sweep over you, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

Another tick of Harry's jaw.

"Yeah. But I've enjoyed doing this too. Traveling and performing with Sarah's band," you said, a meek attempt at a joke.

"You must be getting laid a lot on the road as a proper rockstar now. You could probably get whoever you wanted. Well, maybe not Harry, but close to anyone. Are you taking advantage of being on the road with Harry? A new man every night?"

You swallowed thickly, the will not to cry hanging on by a thread. "I—I don't think my brothers be cool with—"

"Shut the fuck up, mate."

Shocked silence filled the room. Clearly, the interviewers didn't expect someone as laid back as Harry to speak up that way. A mix of relief and unease washed over you, unsure of how the rest of the interview was going to pan out now. But you couldn't say you didn't feel relieved that he'd spoken up.

"Harry, we're only—"

"You're being fucking disrespectful to the members of my band, and I'm not fucking putting up with it. Either ask me your fucking questions or let me go. My band and I aren't putting up with your bullshit."

Harry hadn't wanted to come here. He knew the reputation of the interviewer, but it had still somehow made it onto the list of interviews and appearances to promote the album. You'd watched as he grew more and more irritated with each question, but he seemed to take them in stride. But the minute they were directed at you, he'd snapped.

A brief break in the interview ensued, producers suggesting that a couple minutes to regroup would do everyone some good. When everyone was ready to record again, a stilted topic change led Harry to introduce and talk about the Peter Gabriel song they were about to play. The rest of the interview teetered between overly professional and awkward. You could tell by the tense line of Harry's shoulders that he wanted to be anywhere else.

At some point while Harry was talking, Sarah looked over at you. "You okay?" she mouthed, and you nodded subtly, giving her a tiny thumbs up from behind your keyboard setup. Everyone in the band knew about you and Harry. It was hard to hide your relationship when he was by your side whenever you weren't rehearsing a song, and like Mitch and Sarah, he was almost always facing you during rehearsals. It was sweet how he was always pulling you aside during lunch breaks and sitting beside you on the piano bench. One time, when Harry had a film crew film a performance of each song on the album, he asked if the recording of "Fine Line" could just be you and him. Both of you sat on stools with your respective guitars as you performed a stripped-back version of the song, your voice supporting Harry's with a soft harmony occasionally. It was a special moment for the two of you, especially because the song meant so much.

After that, there were no questions about what you meant to each other.

At the end of the interview, Harry was quick to leave, hardly sparing anyone a glance as he stalked out. You stayed back to break down your equipment like you normally did, your hands shaking a little as the desire to comfort Harry took over.

"Go, I got this," Mitch said, coming over to help.

"Really?"

Mitch nodded before bumping his shoulder against yours. "Yeah. We still on for dinner tonight?"

You nodded. "Might have to be at my apartment, though. I don't think he'll be up for going out."

You left soon after that, walking out of the recording room where the interview had taken place. The green room was down the hall, and you entered despite the closed door. "It's me," you said quietly before entering, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

Harry was already out of his blue sweater and green trousers, a pair of brown corduroys on as he shrugged into a yellow t-shirt. He looked up briefly, then looked back down again as he slipped a pair of Vans on.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mad, upset, guilty," he said with a shrug.

"Why on earth do you feel guilty, love?"

"That never should've fucking happened," he seethed, but in Harry fashion, it just meant his voice was clipped and low as he tried to get a handle on his anger. "You didn't deserve that. I should've stood up for you."

"I...You did, H." You didn't want to say that it was okay, because obviously the whole situation wasn't, but you knew he wasn't to blame. The topic of him sticking up for you was a touchy one. "You were put in a tough position, yet you still put those assholes in their place. Let's just go home and forget about all this shit, okay?"

Harry nodded, but he still wouldn't meet your eye, which wasn't going to work for you one bit.

"Hey," you said, tilting his chin up with your fingertips. "Don't beat yourself up. Please? For me?"

For the first time since the midpoint of the interview, Harry grinned. He threaded his fingers through yours before giving you a kiss, his lips soft and familiar against yours. You felt some of the tension leave his body until he eventually pulled away and draped an arm over your shoulders, your hands still connected.

"Never fucking coming to this place again," Harry murmured on the way out, keeping you tucked closely to his side.

"Amen to that."

Harry looked down at you, the anger and frustration finally clearing from his eyes. When it came to you, to your feelings, he was very protective. And you were too, in your own way. You leaned on each other, supported each other, and spent time together without ever being sick of one another. There was no doubt in your mind that he loved you, and even though it might put him in hot water with his management or the interviewer, it meant a lot to you that he stood up for you the way he did. You didn't need him to throw punches or push people up against walls—honestly, that was what your brothers were for—but when it all boiled down, he put you and your feelings first, always and without question.

"I love you," he murmured, his thumb rubbing circles over the top of your hand.

"Even with my crazy brothers?"

"Even with your crazy brothers."

"Hm. Even when Buddy steals your spot on the bed?"

"Even then."

"Even in the mornings when my feet are cold and they brush up against your legs?"

When Harry didn't answer right away, you playfully pinched his side until he laughed and kissed the top of your head. "Babe, I'm gonna love you on your worst day, you know that."

And even though you did, your cheeks became rosy, your whole body tingling with warmth. "Good. Because I love you too. So much."

So much pain had been felt, so much devastation had been endured before you and Harry fell into a perfect rhythm. It wasn't easy, and if you were to look back at the girl who believed she was fucked in the head and incapable and undeserving of love and being loved, you would still think it was all worth it. You would endure it all again if it led you to this moment, if it ended up with Harry cradling your heart of glass in his hands and protecting it as if it was his own.

Hand in hand, you went home and didn't look back at the shattered glass you'd long since left behind.

[mapiforpresident]

How Could You Do This Part 2

Part 1

Claudia Pina x reader

warnings: angst

Summary: Claudia tells you the truth

Not proof read so let me know if you see any mistakes.

~~~

Patri was heartbroken at the sound of her best friends soft cries. She thought about what Claudia could have possibly done to make you so upset that you refused to even be in the same room as her.

"Did y/n find out about the surprise?" Patri asked once she heard Pina's crying turn into quieter sniffles.

"I don't think so. I know she doesn't like when I spend a lot of money on her, but I don't think she would have this strong of a reaction."

"Ok well when did she first show signs of being mad at you?"

"She was fine at the beginning of my interview. I let her tik tok on my phone and she was fine with sitting there and waiting for me to finish, but when I was done with the interview I couldn't find her until I heard her crying in the bathroom. I don't know what happened."

Patri realized that this was all her fault. You had seen her text messages from that morning. She had no idea that you would be on Claudia's phone and would be the one that would see her texts. She knew she had to fix this.

"I... I think I know what happened. I think she saw the texts I sent you this morning about meeting up with the agent."

"What texts? I didn't get a text."

"Yes, I texted you this morning that you should tell y/n before she finds out."

Claudia then went and looked and saw the two texts that her best friend had sent her and checked the time of them and it was in fact during the span of time that you had her phone.

"Oh my god... she thinks I'm cheating on her doesn't she. Thats why she was so upset. These texts look so bad. She didn't have any context about who you were talking about. What am I going to do... she doesn't want to talk to me and Alexia won't even let me near her."

"Ok... ok we will figure this out. It will be ok. Its just a misunderstanding. I will call Alexia and try to get her to listen to me and explain the situation. You get the surprise ready and you can show y/n and explain to her what was really happening ok. I will call you back in a little bit after I talk to Alexia," Patri said before she hung up with Claudia and called her captain.

~~~

"Patricia Guijarro you better not be calling me right now. I don't want to hear from you right now."

"Wait, wait hold on, let me explain please. Claudia did not cheat. She never would do that and you know her she is so in love with y/n."

"What happened Patri, and you better not lie to me or leave out a single detail."

Patri then explained the entire situation and let Alexia in on the surprise that started this entire mess. Alexia had no idea what to do. She believed Patri and deep down knew that Pina would never do anything to hurt you. Claudia was so in love with you and Alexia was beyond happy for the both of you. She knew she had to help Patri try and resolve this situation.

"Ok Patri, tell Pina to come over here in thirty minutes and plan a romantic date for them, I will take care of the rest."

"No problem, thank you so much Ale and I really am sorry for causing y/n to be so upset."

"It's not your fault, lets just fix this before it gets any worse."

~~~

"What did Alexia say, can I go talk to y/n. God I can't believe this is happening, I love her so much and I just want to make things right. Hopefully by telling her about the surprise now, she will understand what the texts were about," Pina said as she paced back and forth behind the sofa where Patri had been talking to Alexia.

"Alexia is still upset that we hurt y/n, but she said that you can go over there in thirty minutes and take y/n out on a date to explain the whole situation to her."

"Oh thank god, I'll call and make a reservation at our favorite restaurant."

Claudia quickly made a reservation at the restaurant where you both shared so many memories, including your first date where she was so nervous that she spilled her glass of wine all over you. Claudia thought back over all of her favorite memories with you and knew she had to sort this out quickly before she lost the best thing thats ever happened to her. Finally, it was time to leave, and she hugged Patri goodbye before she headed over to Alexia's apartment.

When Claudia arrived, she was met with a wary glance from Alexia. "She's in the living room," Alexia said softly. "Good luck, Pina and please don't hurt her anymore. It kills me seeing her heartbroken like this."

Claudia nodded and walked in to find you sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow tightly to your chest with old game highlights on the TV. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying. Seeing you like this broke Claudia's heart all over again.

"Y/N," Claudia began, her voice trembling slightly. "Can we talk?"

You looked up, hesitant but nodded. "I don't understand, Claudia. I thought we were happy, but then I saw those texts and..."

Claudia moved closer and gently took your hands in hers as she sat down. "It was a misunderstanding. Those texts were about a surprise I was planning for you. I would never cheat on you, ever. I love you more than anything."

You looked into her eyes, searching for the truth. Pina was always a terrible liar and looking into her eyes you relaxed slightly knowing she was telling you the truth. "A surprise?"

Claudia nodded. "Yes, a surprise. Patri helped me find a new real estate agent after the last one was not meeting any of our requirements. I was meeting a real estate agent because I wanted to buy us a home. A place where we can move in together and build our future. It has everything we both want, including the pool you always dreamed of."

Your eyes widened in shock. "A home? For us?"

Claudia smiled softly. "Yes, for us. I know you don't like it when I spend a lot of money on you, but this is something I really wanted to do. I want to build a life with you, Y/N. If its ok with you I was gone pay the down payment today."

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. "Oh, Claudia. I was so scared. I thought I was losing you."

Claudia pulled you into a tight embrace. "You will never lose me. I promise. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the love and sincerity in her words. "I love you, Claudia."

"I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. Now do you want to go tour our new home and then go to dinner?"

[noiriarti]

Just Practice: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Modern Best Friends AU) Ch. 2

Summary: Anakin is your best friend, the one person you can't survive without, and you're about to go to different colleges. You bring up your worries about your inexperience and he offers to help.

NSFW!!!!!!! Literally so NSFW!!! TW for mentions of choking and degradation

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter

Chapter 2: An Inescapable Fact

Anakin Skywalker was in love with his best friend. It was an inescapable fact, the same way that the sky was blue, and the Earth was round. Another fact was that he had made out with and practically came on his best friend. He didn't really know what he had been thinking, or if he even had been thinking, but, after he left, all he knew was that he wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Maybe he liked it a little too much. When he walked down the front steps of your house with his mom, picked up his bike from your lawn, and dashed up to his room to "finish packing," he not-so-subtly palmed himself, his hand lingering on the front of his jeans, where you were grinding against him minutes (minutes!!!) ago. It took him all of thirty seconds to take care of it, imagining you were still on top of him. As he lay there, panting, his hand covered in cum, he wondered if you were doing the same thing. (You were, of course, but he didn't know that.) He pulled out his phone with his clean hand and typed out a message. Hey. His phone dinged less than a second later. Hey, you had sent back. Now he was left wondering what the fuck a person is supposed to say to their best friend who they're in love with and just "for practice" made out with? 

That was great. No, too eager.

That was hot. No, weirdly horny.

How are you? No, too nonchalant.

I've been in love with you since seventh grade and I can't imagine life without you so please don't stop being my friend and if you want to be more I'd really enjoy that but no worries if you want to stay just friends. Jesus Christ.

We should do that again. Passable. Send. 

And so he waited for you to respond. And waited. And then stood up and cleaned himself up. And packed a bit. Eventually, later in the night, his phone pinged and he dove across the room to check it, but it was a notification from Instagram that one of his teammates had sent him a post. Anakin tossed his phone back on his bed with a little bit more force than necessary, then threw more of his shirts into the open suitcase on the floor. Another hour passed, and there was still radio silence from you. He opened his texts and stared at your exchange for a bit. It was still unread.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I crossed a line and it obviously is making you uncomfortable. I enjoyed what we did, and I'd like it to continue, if you want. If not, that's chill. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking, and how you're feeling, and if you still want me in your life. Please-- he drafted, stopping suddenly when he saw the Read notification pop up. He deleted the entire thing with shaking hands. What were you going to say?

Those three dots in the bubble were literal torture, he decided. Being stretched on the rack was probably easier than this horrible purgatory of not knowing whether the one person in his life who he couldn't exist without wanted to end their friendship.

Agreed, your text read. He immediately typed out a Are you okay?, which you answered with Yeah, you?. He assured you that he was, and you told him you were going to sleep for the night. Anakin finally put his phone down and asked himself what was wrong with him.

He hadn't felt this way around a girl, well, ever. In sophomore year, Padmé approached him and asked him out. He was so thrilled someone showed interest in him that he didn't think too carefully about it, but he caught feelings for her quickly. She was smart, kind, pretty. All the things a girlfriend ought to be. She made signs for his games, and kissed him with a desire he longed for. Everyone knew that she loved him, especially him. That's what made it gut-wrenching, because there was always something he was looking for that he could never find with her. Something he was missing. Little things killed them, like when she bought him cranberries and didn't know that he hated them, or when he realized her parents would never approve of him, no matter how hard he tried. He was always the captain of the soccer team who lived in the not-so-nice part of the town, where there were more cows than people, and she was always the genius debater from a house that had six bathrooms.

The first time he had sex with her, it was all hands and kisses and whispered praise. The second time, when he was less stunned by the newness of everything, he started feeling it. That wrongness. And it just didn't stop. When he said her name, the word felt foreign on his lips, like he wasn't meant to say it. Once, he brought up doing something more intense, like pulling her hair or smacking her ass, and she said she probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd try it anyway. She, in fact, did not enjoy it, and Anakin drove away from her house later that night in his beat-up Toyota feeling like a monster. Everything was just a little off between them. All his fantasies, all his conceptions of how a girlfriend and sex should be were based on how he imagined you would act. He'd know about your sweet tooth and give you the frosting off his cupcake, and you'd give him the pickles off your burger. With Padmé, nothing fit just right, it was a little off. In another world, he thought that he could have choked it down, married her. Had a happy life in a suburb somewhere. She would have loved it.

He found himself responding to her texts slowly, and kept trying to bring himself back to their dates when he zoned out. It didn't work, and, after a teary, bittersweet goodbye eight months after they dated, he was single again. When Padmé got into Harvard in her senior year, his junior year, he congratulated her, and she hugged him, and he knew that they were okay. Maybe he didn't ever really get to know all of Padmé's nooks and crannies because he didn't feel the urge to. With you, it was practically pathological. He hungered for every photo of you, every glance that you threw him. 

Now that he had kissed you, finally giving in to his stupid desires, he knew, with certainty, that this was love. Not a childish crush, not a teenage boy's lust, but love. (And also lust, but that was secondary.) As he fell asleep that night, he decided to tell you that just thinking of you was setting his heart racing now, that he wanted nothing more than to be yours. He'd just do it when he visited you.

When he loaded his whole life (three suitcases, it turned out) into the back of the massive van your parents had rented, he realized you hadn't seen you this morning yet. Your parents were setting up the front, arguing over which highway to take. Why did it matter? There were four hours until the flight. Your parents had pulled out two of your five suitcases, which Anakin dutifully loaded into the back next to his own luggage. You must have packed a whole rack of weights inside them, leaving Anakin sweating after stuffing the trunk.  The pom poms you had made for both of your suitcases (an early going away present, you had said, which made his heart constrict and ache) were laid down like ducks in a row. As your mother emerged with the remaining three suitcases, probably even heavier than the first two, he thanked his lucky stars Coach made them do so much conditioning. That, and the away games gave him practice at waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, a skill that came in useful today.

You weren't a morning person, which he knew, so your absence wasn't a shock, but you coming out of the house looking perfectly awake was. Anakin watched you cast one last look at your house, memorizing its grooves like you didn't already know them by heart, before you turned your gaze to him. Your eyes met, and he instantly looked away. Fuck, you looked pretty this morning. You walked up to him, and he noticed the faintest trace of makeup around your eyes.

"You look nice," he blurted out once you walked up to him. He cursed himself. When had he become so awkward around you?

"Thanks," you said as you smiled back at him. Like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't kissed your neck eight short hours ago. So it probably meant less to you than it did to him. The cool early morning air soothed the sting of that idea. You climbed into the backseat, wedging yourself in between the various backpacks and Anakin's seat. When he buckled himself in, your thighs were pressed together, just like last night. Anakin's hand itched to bring your legs over his, to grab your knee and kiss you again. But he wasn't going to.

The car ride was calming, only an hour to the airport, and you were the only car on the road. In the dark, early morning, you had fallen asleep almost instantly. Your parents had lapsed into silence, and he was supposed to be only torn up about leaving his mom, but he kept getting distracted by the way your head lolled around the headrest. Eventually, your head fell into the space between you, resting at an angle Anakin thought would need a chiropractor to fix. So, he did what any best friend would. He gently guided your head to his shoulder. It must have been more comfortable for you that way, anyway. He couldn't sleep, hyperaware of your every movement like he had never been before. Heart fluttering and hands antsy, Anakin managed to survive the drive. Once you got to the airport, and your parents called your name, you jolted up, and he missed you immediately. If he thought separating before would be hard, he had fucked up last night and made it a thousand times worse. Not that he regretted it, really.

The five of you made it through check-in (another lifting of the bags, which broke him into a sweat he hoped looked rugged and not gross) and security (where every single one of his bags was pulled aside because he was carrying some of his projects, which, okay, did have a lot of wires and chips in them, but he was an engineer, dammit, not a bomber). By the time you had dragged yourselves to the gate, the sun had risen. Your flight was first, straight to LaGuardia, then Anakin and Shmi would get on the plane to Ithaca just an hour later. You still had two hours until the flight, which the two of you spent in McDonalds getting one last Icee (cherry for Anakin, blue raspberry for you), drinking it until Anakin's stomach hurt from the sugar. It was like the previous night never happened, and neither of you mentioned it, dodging the topic and filling every silent moment with some comment about a tourist dropping all their bags or some mom with a child on a leash. When the first boarding call came from your gate, only ten seconds' walk away from your current perch next to some chargers on a wall, he knew your parents would want you back soon. He only had a minute, and you sensed it too. The sun was rising, casting its sleepy shine through the windows of the terminal and lighting up a halo of frizz around your head. You were beautiful, he thought. He pulled you into a crushing hug.

"Thank you for being my best friend. Promise you won't forget me?" You whispered to him while still in his bear hug. The tiny voice you used, the fear that question hid were too much for him. He pulled you in tighter, until he could barely breathe. 

"I could never. I'll be your best friend forever," he affirmed. Because that's what you were, above all else. Friends. Anakin had to preserve that, and he wavered on the decision to tell you about his feelings. Your friendship came first. When he walked you back to your gate, the last he saw of you was when you turned back to look at him right before walking through the gangway to your plane. It reminded him of the way you looked at your house before you left, a gesture of love and loyalty. Then you were gone, and he missed you instantly.

Another hour in the airport was dreadfully boring without you, it turned out, and the five hour plane ride was even worse. By the time they landed, Anakin was practically ready to jump out of the emergency exit, just for the entertainment of it. Everything he did was tinged with the slightest bit of disinterest. The book he packed, The Art of Electronics, proved to be dreadfully dull, and his phone was similar. There was only one person he wanted to hear from.

When they landed in Ithaca's airport, Anakin and Shmi loaded into a taxi and drove off to his dorm, which was comfortingly close. Just a hop away, then he could be home. The room itself, when entered, smelled damp and stale but at least looked clean. He and Ben, his slightly older roommate who played professionally in leagues in the UK before coming to college, got on like fire and tall grass, and Shmi practically had to keep reminding them that they, indeed, needed to unpack. 

Around five, he shot you a text.

Anakin: How's your room?

You: Nice, big! Here's a pic

You sent a picture

You: I finally met Ahsoka IRL, and she's just as nice as I thought she'd be!

You: I really like hanging out with her and her girlfriend Barriss

You: What about you?

Anakin: It's good, me and Ben, who's also on the soccer team

Anakin: lmfao that looks tiny

Anakin: We have a common room

Anakin: Feast your eyes

Anakin sent a picture

You: Jesus how have you managed to make it gross already

Anakin: It's not gross

Anakin: The Nicki Minaj American flag is camp

Anakin: And we only need two chairs for the TV

You: Two folding chairs in the middle of the room and nothing else on the walls is unhinged

Anakin: Unfriended

He smiled and set his phone down. Things were back to normal. Now, all he had to do to finish move-in was get thoroughly drunk with his new teammates.

You kept in contact with one another, sending cute squirrels (Anakin) and rats (you) that crossed your paths, or updating each other on your classes. Two weeks in the semester, Anakin finally felt brave enough to ask you. He was sitting on his newly-acquired couch, which you had bullied him into buying off of Facebook Marketplace. It was dingy, and had several stains that made him wonder if it was a crime scene, but it was cheap, and that was what mattered.

Anakin: Hey, can I come over this weekend?

You: Please. I'm going crazy here without you.

Anakin: Can I crash on your floor then?

You: I mean, if you're coming, we could practice a bit more, so you wouldn't have to use the floor

Anakin: That sounds amazing. What do you want to do?

You: I don't know. What do you want to do?

Anakin: I asked first

You: lol idk. It's just weird to talk about this with you

You: Not that I don't enjoy it, or want it. Just still feels weird.

Anakin: I get that, for me too.

You: I don't know if I'm ready to be idk, naked? I guess?

You: But I want to do more

You: I think I want to try giving head

Anakin: You don't have to do anything you don't want to

Anakin: I'd enjoy that a lot

You: g2g to class ttyl

Ben wasn't home, thank God, or else he could have walked in on Anakin stroking himself in the living room like a pervert. The image of your lips around him was too much to resist, even for the second it took him to get up and walk to his room. While fucking his fist, the fantasy escalated. Him fucking your throat harshly, feeling you gag on it. Him using your hair to drag your mouth up and down his cock while your hands were tied behind you. Once he came, he started feeling guilty about imagining you in such a rough situation. Anakin had no idea if you even wanted that, and he vowed to let you take the lead as much as possible. He also felt guilty about leaving another teeny tiny stain on the already suspicious couch when some cum dribbled down his hand, but it kind of blended in.

On Tuesday, he left his electrical engineering course when he got a text that stopped him in the middle of the hall.

You: Hey

You: So I am going to a sex store for the first time today

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: Wow ok exploring nyc

You: Should I get anything for this weekend?

Anakin: Idk, up to you

Anakin: Just choose whatever you want to try

You: ok i will pull up with a massive horse dildo for u then king

You: But seriously, I want to make it enjoyable for you too.

You: Do you have any requests for like outfits or something?

Anakin: fuck all the way off

Anakin: What? Like, shirts?

You: No

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Whatever makes you feel good

You: But cmon you've got to have a pereference

You: *preference

Anakin: pereference

Anakin: I don't have a pereference

Anakin: You could say I don't perefer anything

You: Fuck off

You: Answer the question motherfucker

Anakin: Idk maybe black lace? Whatever makes you happy

Anakin: I've always wanted to rip fishnets, if that's something you want

You: Sounds like a plan

He liked the message and slipped his phone in his pocket as he bounced over to the student lab, ready to finish the Arduino gadget he was making for class. You in a lacy set sounded like a dream come true, mainly because he was almost certain he had that exact wet dream last year.

The four ensuing days allowed Anakin to think, for once, which was never a good idea. It grew new doubts to stress over. Had he accidentally pushed the idea of fishnets on you? What if you weren't into the stuff he was into, or if you decided you weren't into him enough to be able to do anything further with him, now that the horny initial haze had dwindled? He was considering this again while on the train, watching the upstate countryside roll by. Sometimes it was close enough to Minnesota that he felt like he was home, so he shot his mom a text saying he missed her, and that he'd call her tomorrow. He also had two unread texts from you.

You: Hey!! When you arrive just text me and I'll grab you

You: I'm excited to see you

Anakin: Hey

Anakin: I'm excited to see you too

Anakin: Lots of stories to share

Before he could think better of it, he typed out something he hoped would dull the constant questioning in his mind.

Anakin: Oh

Anakin: Also

Anakin: I feel kinda bad for bringing up something only I'm interested in the last time we talked about me coming over

Anakin: This should be about you

You: Takes two to tango, as they say

Anakin: Never say that again

You: I will say it again

Anakin: Shut up I'm trying to be serious

You: I'm saying that I'm interested in that sort of stuff

You: When I was at the store there were a bunch of things I wanted to try

You: Like wax and ropes

Anakin: Kinky

And, now, the question he had been nervous to ask, or even to think about. 

Anakin: Do you want to try them on me, or for me to try them on you?

You: Definitely you doing that to me

You: I've been doing research

You: There's a lot of stuff I want to try, if you want to practice with me

Anakin: Fuck that sounds fun

Anakin: Like what?

Was he letting his cards show too much? Maybe. It just felt too good not to ask.

You: Degradation, overstim, just idk. Rough in general

You: Down the road maybe rope

Anakin: Damn ok 50 shades of grey

Anakin: You have been doing your research

Anakin: That all sounds good to me, as long as it's good for you

Anakin: I can't wait to get there

The rush of excitement he felt at the idea of tying you up and fucking you until you screamed drowned out the notes he was meant to be reviewing in front of him, and the circuit diagram he was supposed to draw. 

He thought of you splayed out in front of him, covering those slutty lace panties in your juice until it soaked through the other side. He thought about his hand on your neck as you begged him to cum. And--fuck--you gagging on your knees as he thrust into your throat. He was hard--again.

But he had to remember what he was coming here to do, really. To tell you how he felt. He pulled out the piece of paper he had spent the past two weeks writing and rewriting in his mind as he did dribbling drills and soldered wires. There were four drafts in his desk, written out and crumpled into the back of the drawers, because he knew that one look at you in your room, giving him those desperate eyes, would wipe him blank of anything except how much he wanted you. After how platonic you were at the airport, he wasn't sure if he should say anything, because the distance over the next four years would make it so hard to be together, and you hadn't ever talked about long distance. Now, he looked at the paper and didn't know what to think. Did he really want to say words as big as "I love you" so quickly, so soon? The doubt plagued him as he looked over the final version of the letter, which was suddenly sappy and childish.

Since we were kids, I've considered you my closest friend. Someone who made me *me*. I started listening to Fall Out Boy because you did, I peel bananas upside down because you showed me how, and I only eat pepperoni pizza with olives and mushrooms because you've ordered it so much that it grew on me. I treasure you your friendship so much, and those feelings have been changing since we were younger to something more romantic. I don't know when it started, but when we kissed, I knew I loved--

He looked away. Why was he using the word love? He didn't know if you two would even work romantically. What if you went on a date and it felt just like your regular dynamic? What if he was a bad boyfriend, like he was to Padmé, and you didn't want him anymore? Was he about to throw years of your trust away?

He wasn't sure whether to tell you, at all. Anakin just wanted to know if you felt the same way about him, or else he'd lose more than just his pride. He had to give it more time. And, until then, this was all practice anyway. (He was really, really good at lying to himself.) He folded the paper precisely, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case.

The train slowed with a screeching that rung his ears and arrived at Grand Central. From the moment he left the train, the station was packed with people. Everything was buzzing, from the voices shouting over each other to the side of his arm where someone smacked into him. The air was stale and warm from the bodies, which moved in completely unpredictable patterns through the vast space. If he was this overwhelmed, how were you faring in the city? He made his way to the subway station just a few blocks across midtown, then got on the 1, which was surprisingly clean based on everything he had heard about New York. Anakin half expected to be pickpocketed and to see rats on the trains, but the plastic yellow and red seats playfully shined at him, clean and inviting.

Before long, he found himself on Columbia's campus at sunset, walking through the buildings which all looked a little bit too similar to find your dorm. Carman Hall, there it was. Anakin texted you that he was outside and steadied his nerves. He would finally get to see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again, a part of his brain that he dutifully shoved into a dark corner said.

Three minutes passed--he was looking at his phone clock for every one of the--and then the entrance clicked open. There you were. You looked amazing, and city life clearly agreed with you. You were wearing a simple denim skirt and green shirt, but you looked incredible. You had added a few ear cuffs, glinting in the dwindling sunlight, which cast your skin in a warm glow.

"Hey," he said into your temple as he crushed you back, "You look--wow." He pulled away and grabbed your shoulders, examining if you were still the person he knew. You were, he determined when you beamed at him. Your hand was still the same as he remembered when you flashed an ID badge, featuring a photo he had taken against a wall in your house, at the bored-looking security guard, who just waved you two by.

Anakin had just started telling you about how one of the midfielders, Rex, kicked the ball directly in the coach's crotch, when the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, and he followed you down a winding hallway full of nameplates, whiteboards, and decorations. One room had construction paper black cats and pumpkins all over the door, which made him stop and smile. You stopped in front of a door that had fake leaves stuck to it, making it look like a tree was dropping paper leaves onto the floor. You unlocked the door, which groaned as it opened to show exactly the room you had sent him photos of, but with significantly more clutter on your desk.

"Welcome! This is my humble abode!" On the other side of the room, the girl sitting on her bed, cast him a withering glance. She had wide, doe-like eyes that he was sure probably hid a lot of mischief. Her hair was styled in twists she had gathered into pigtails that tumbled over her shoulders, with a string of beads woven into the crown of her head.

"This must be Jake," the woman he presumed to be Ahsoka said, scrutinizing him with her piercing eyes. Jake? Who the fuck is Jake? Anakin wondered as he tried to read your reaction. You spluttered, obviously not ready to have that piece of information revealed yet.

"No, no, this is Anakin! From home!" You put on a strained smile in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"So, you're not dating?" Ahsoka quirked up one eyebrow, not buying for one second that whatever she was seeing in front of her was platonic.

"No, not at all. I could never date him, he's my best friend!" You said too loudly, forcing the words out. Perfect. Just perfect. That solidified his decision. If you were friendzoning him this hard, and you were obviously trying to practice for this Jake guy's sake, then there wasn't any point in what he was going to say. The paper in his pocket was so easy to crush under his fingers, he almost wished he had done it sooner. It was stupid, anyway. This wasn't anything more than two people exploring new things. His feelings would pass, eventually.

Ahsoka shrugged and hugged you goodbye after she slipped off the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. She left, presumably for Barriss's room, and closed the door behind her.

In the silence left in the room, the words were on the tip of his tongue. Who's Jake?, he would ask nonchalantly. Like it didn't matter. Anakin stopped himself. It wouldn't do him any good to know more. Instead, he kept recounting the story of Rex making the whole team run sprints for the day with his crazy aim, albeit with less enthusiasm. In return, you told him about the suck-up in your Intro to Psychology course, who gushed to the professor that he loved his work and was his biggest fan. It was literally a 101 class, what was he trying to prove?

Anakin's pack lay forgotten by the door as you two recounted your weeks to one another, and for a moment it didn't feel like a new city, it just felt like home. He didn't even realize that it was night until you pointed it out, mentioning that you missed the stars that you could see from your yard. And the fireflies. But the city lights twinkled nicely enough that he couldn't see  a difference. You lapsed into silence, watching students walk out onto the street as stores pulled down their shutter doors. The bed was to your left as you stood watching the window, and your eyes glanced to it. 

"So, um. Want to watch some Netflix?" You said in your best approximation of a sexy voice, turning to your right and looking up at him in a way that you hoped was seductive. Anakin looked at your face and burst out laughing.

"If you want to do stuff, just ask!" He raised the pitch of his voice, imitating yours as he bit his lip fake-sexily. "Netflix and chill?" You grabbed one of the copious pillows on your bed and hit him with it. He caught it immediately and lobbed it back at your head, but you ducked at the last possible moment, so it hit the bed with a thump.

"Missed!" You giggled. That sweet laughter would be the death of him. When you caught your breath, the sweet smile he had stole your breath. 

"Um, do you want to... practice?" You asked. In truth, you wanted him, badly. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, which he immediately noticed and took as his cue to use the last of his willpower to make sure you were okay with this before kissing you silly, and hopefully doing more. Much more. He stepped closer to you, drawing you in with his arms around your waist.

"Just so that I'm perfectly clear. You don't have to do anything that makes you feel the slightest bit weird. We don't have to do anything now, at all. Or ever, if that's what you want," he said huskily.

"No, I do want this," you whispered, nodding and leaning in so that you were nearly touching noses, "I want you down my throat." Fuck. There went his self-control. He crushed his lips into yours, the softness of the previous time eclipsed by the need in both of you that had been building in between texts for the weeks you had been apart.

No. You had to talk this through. He had to know that you understood what you were getting into. Anakin pulled away, even though it killed him.

"We should talk more. No touching until we're done talking," he said, holding his hands up to prove that he was serious.

"Fine. But you're going to break first. I'd bet anything." You also held your hands up, defiant as ever. He was seized with the urge to make you obey him, and quieted it down as much as he could.

"Fine. I'll take that deal. Just, let's talk first. You said that you wanted to try rougher stuff, and I don't want to do that before I'm certain I don't cross a boundary," he said. He thought of himself last year, the guilt over Padmé.

"What boundaries could you possibly cross? I'm asking you to be rough." Anakin was still worried.

"Yes, but it's your first time giving head. I don't want to make it uncomfortable. Or, if I cross a line and can't tell... I just want to keep you safe. How about you tap me twice for good to go, three times for slow down, and four times for stop?" You nodded, giving him those same big eyes that made him want to absolutely ravish you. The time between you stretched, turning pliant and gooey as he searched your eyes for uncertainty. "Show me," he purred. He had poured some of the commanding tone into it that he wanted so desperately to use. You obediently tapped out the sequence on his arm, and he tossed you a smirk. 

"Okay. First of all, I won. You touched me first," he said, enjoying the way you were about to fight him on it, "And, second of all, shut up and kiss me." And you did.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: Oh we are getting raunchy in the next chapter buddies!!!

Tag List (message me or reply if you'd like to be added!): @akixxrafiiy

[lvnleah]

Protective Love | Lia Wälti

Based on this request! :)

Summary: Reader gets injured during a game against Man United after a bad tackle, Lia is the first at her side when she goes down. Lia stays by the readers side. Lots of fluff!!

Notes: haven’t really read this through so please be kind! Also a short one <33

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Getting injured whilst playing your absolute best was every football player's worst idea. You were playing against Man United, thirty minutes in and you were playing your best game that you’d played in a long time.

Arsenal were 1-0 down, Man United getting an early goal six minutes in. Beth Mead passed you the ball, you were getting closer and closer to the next. Millie Turner slide tackled you, taking the ball from straight under your feet.

You landed funny, instantly feeling your ankles crack right underneath you. Strings of curse words fell from your mouth as your body hit the ground. You instantly grabbed you ankle, holding it to try and ease the pain.

The whistle blew, signalling for the game to come for a stop. The crowd's cheers dulled to a concerned murmur as you lay on the pitch, pain radiating from your ankle after a rough tackle. Your teammates huddled around, but it was Lia's face that came into focus above you — her eyes wide with worry.

"Hey, you're going to be okay," Lia said, her voice steady despite the panic you saw in her eyes. She knelt beside you, her hand gently brushing your face. “What hurts, love?”

“Ankle.” You cried, not being able to take the pain as you groaned into the ground, “I felt it crack.”

The medics rushed over, and as they assessed your injury, Lia never left your side. Her hand gently brushed the hair from your forehead.

Lia was your girlfriend of eight months, you’d been friends for around four years and your feelings had only grown over that time. You were flirty friends ever since you’d join Arsenal in January 2019.

Lia hadn’t been at the club long so the pair of you bonded over both being new. At the time you were both in relationships, you had a girlfriend of 3 years and Lia had just celebrated her 1 year anniversary with hers.

Around a year ago, both of your relationships ended and you both moved in with each other. Your feelings for each other grew and grew and one evening you confessed them before asking Lia to be your girlfriend. You hadn’t looked back since that day.

Once the medics had stabilised your ankle, Lia helped you to your feet, acting as your crutch.

"I've got you," she murmured, her tone leaving no room for argument. The protective glint in her eyes told you that she didn’t want to hear your stubbornness.

As you hobbled off the field, leaning heavily on Lia, you couldn't help but feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the injury. It was the warmth of being cared for, the warmth of Lia's unwavering presence. Something you’d never felt on this level before.

You reached the dugouts and the medics took you down to the physio room. Despite not wanting to, Lia returned to the pitch and carried on with the game.

The physio room was a sterile, fluorescent-lit space tucked away beneath the stadium. You sat on the examination table, your broken ankle propped up on a cushion. The pain had dulled slightly, but every movement sent a sharp reminder of the injury up your leg.

The physio further assessed your injury, she examined your ankle, prodding gently and asking about the pain. You winced as she touched the swollen joint, and she nodded in confirmation.

"Definitely a break," she said. "We'll need to get you to the hospital for an X-ray."

You nodded, knowing that recovery was going to be a long process and your season was going to be cut short. Your heart shattered, you’d been playing your best and you felt like everything around you was crumbling down and you couldn’t do anything about it.

Half time came and Lia rushed into the room the room, “My love, you okay?” She asked, concern written all over her face.

“Broken ankle.” You sniffed, Lia wiping your tears from under your eyes, “Need an X-Ray but they think it’s broken.”

“Oh my love, I’m so sorry, we’ll get through this together okay?” Lia reassured you, sitting down on the physio bed next to you.

You spent the next few minutes cuddled together, your head resting on Lia’s chest as your teammates popped in and out to check on you.

“I can’t believe she did that and all she got was a yellow card!” Lia raged, her hands running through your head.

“Babe, it’s okay.” You sighed, “it was a simple mistake from Millie.”

“Still!” The brunette said, throwing her hands up in the air, “you were playing so well and now you’re out for probably the rest of the season!”

At the hospital, the X-rays confirmed the break. You were fitted with a cast, and Lia sat beside you, her thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. She didn't leave your side, not even when you got home and she immediately ordered you to bed.

"You're stuck with me," Lia said, running her hands through your hair as you cuddled into her side. "At least until you're back on your feet."

You smiled, despite the pain throbbing in your ankle. "I wouldn't have it any other way." You tilted your head back slowly and kissed Lia’s lips softly.

The weeks of healing and rehab soon started. The first few weeks were spent in bed, Lia brought you books, snacks, and her company. She even learned how to make a decent cup of tea, which was no small feat for someone who had previously forgotten to put the teabag into the cup and just gave you milk.

As your ankle slowly mended, it took longer than the average break and you missed the rest of the games that season. You attended every match, supporting your teammates from the stand.

One good thing about your injury was that you and Lia became closer than ever. As she played the role of nurse, your love for her grew. You became closer than ever and you were just thankful that you had Lia beside you, holding your hand every step of the way.