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muchosbesitos · 6 months

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(i mixed these two together so i hope that it’s okay with the individual anons :D )

dress

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

content: smut, feelings of betrayal(not from reader), unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), begging (from reader), panty sniffing

author’s note: quick question, do you all prefer longer (4k+ words) or shorter fics 🤨 italics is flashback btw :) (i’m not rly a swiftie so i’m sorry if i butchered this 😭)

word count: 3.5k

The dress itself was nothing short of beautiful, the shade of red accentuated you beautifully and it hugged your curves perfectly. Though you received many compliments and longing looks from the people at the event, none of them were from the man that you wanted. You weren't too sure if you'd see him again after such a long time being away from Nueva York but you kept your hopes up. The room was full of your soon-to-be coworkers but you had little interest in trying to maintain pointless conversation with them.

You walked over to the food table and grabbed yourself a Coke with a bag of chips, the rest of the food looking unappealing. You turned around and were met with a broad chest, the impact causing you to stumble back a little bit and drop your chip bag. "Sorry about that," you told the person you'd bumped into, grabbing your chips. "No worries, it's all good."

The voice took you back to the days of sneaking around the library when no one was around, of hiding around in the bleachers after football practice was over, and of the day you left Nueva York. You weren't expecting to find him so fast in the crowd, but you had to admit that the time apart had done him well. He was no longer the tall and awkward boy you met during a study group but a man molded by experience and muscle.

"You look as beautiful as the first day I saw you," Miguel lowered his head to whisper in your ear, affirming your suspicions that he'd recognized you. You had about a thousand words that you wanted to say to him but none of them could compute into complete sentences. When you opened your mouth to respond, you were left by yourself at the food table. You decided to push away the butterflies that were swarming around in your stomach and went to go talk to some of the other people at the event.

You'd taken your letter from Columbia back to Miguel's house, a unsaid pact between the two of you that you'd open your letters together. You could only hope that the amount of endless nights studying in the library would pay off but a part of you felt dread at having to open it. You knocked on his door, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you waited for his response. He came out with his headset half on, wearing a pair of sweatpants and thick black glasses. "Hey, come in," he told you, gesturing you to come in.

"I got waitlisted," you told him as you opened the letter, looking up to see that his expression had shifted to something solemn. "It's okay. we can still go to college together. You got accepted to NYU right?" He tried to offer a solution but you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to tell him. "I'm not staying in Nueva York for college. I applied to UCLA and got in. I hope you're not mad at me or anything," you responded, playing with your fingers nervously. "It's okay, we'll stay in contact and call every weekend."

The two of you did not stay in contact after the first couple months and you felt like you were just a spectator in his life. He'd been going to clubs and frat parties, a complete 180 from who you'd met, and the realization that you didn't fit into his life anymore hit hard. Though you wished that you could've ended things in person with him, you ended up breaking up with him in text after seeing him get too cozy with a girl on his Instagram story. You knew that it was your decision to go away but you couldn't help but feel upset at how fast he'd moved on from you.

"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for a while," One of your coworkers spoke, breaking you out of your thought as they waved a hand in front of your face. You blinked, returning your attention back to the conversation at hand. “Yeah, I’m all good. What's this about the cafeteria on the second floor though?" you responded, trying to engage in the conversation even though you felt a pair of red eyes staring at your every movement.

The evening went by quickly and soon enough, the event began to wind down. You thanked your boss for the job opportunity and for hosting the party before heading out, waiting for your taxi outside. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you shifted from foot to foot, unaccustomed to the Nueva York night air. You felt a jacket on your shoulders, looking up to see Miguel standing there next to you. "I know you don't owe me anything but I'd like to talk to you. It's been a while," he spoke up after a while, his voice coming out raw like it'd been difficult just to get the words out.

The drive back to Miguel’s place was spent mostly in silence with some questions coming from the taxi driver in front. "So how long have the two of you been dating?" the man up front asked as he approached a red light, doing his best to be polite. Miguel kept his mouth shut, practically drilling holes at the taxi driver's headrest with his eyes. "We're not dating, actually," you responded awkwardly, offering a small smile to counteract the glaring from the man next to you. "Oh, I’m sorry for assuming," he responded, staying quiet for the rest of the ride after that.

"Thank you," you told the taxi driver once he pulled up to Miguel’s penthouse, getting your wallet out to pay. Miguel pushed your hand away and handed the driver a twenty, getting out of the car without a word. "Sorry about him. He's a little.. temperamental," you mumbled, getting out of the car after Miguel. You followed him up to his house, taking note of how nice the area was around you two. He gestured you to come in, holding the door open for you.

You stepped inside his house and you couldn't help but notice that even though he lived in an expensive neighborhood and he had expensive furniture around the place, the house was devoid of anything that made it a home. Miguel shut the door and unbuttoned his shirt at the top as he walked over to the kitchen. "You didn't eat anything at the party, what do you want to eat?" He asked you, leaning against the counter a bit as he waited for your response. "I’m not hung-" you started to say but your grumbling stomach betrayed your words. "Whatever's easy to make then."

"When'd you get back to Nueva York?" He asked, his voice taking on a note of indifference like the time you'd spent beforehand didn't matter to him. "I got back around three months ago, I think? I’m still getting adjusted to living on the east coast again," you responded, thanking him for the meal that he'd made. The smell of seasoning and spices filled up the kitchen after he was done cooking, the plate of food looking nothing less than inviting. "And you didn't think to call me? To see how I was doing without you?"

You almost choked on your food as he asked you these questions and you immediately reached out to grab the bottle of water he'd set down. "I didn't think that we were in a position for friendly conversation. Last time I saw you, you were dancing with some girl at a club," you responded, keeping your eyes on your food so you wouldn't have to meet his face. He sat down across from you, his presence demanding for you to pay attention to him. "You left me. You don't know how hard it's been to force myself not to call you and see how you're doing. To see if you still think about me as much as I think about you," he told you, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you.

"Tell me, why'd you apply to Alchemax?" He asked you after a couple moments of silence and you played with your food as you tried to avoid the question. "It's one of the best genetics labs in the country. It'll do miracles for my career," you responded, telling him the same lie that you told yourself when you clicked on the application button. "Ese cuento ni te lo crees tú. Te estoy pidiendo la verdad, nada mas y nada menos. Why'd you apply to Alchemax?" he asked you once more and you felt your defenses come down with the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. (you don’t even believe that story. i’m asking you for the truth, nothing more and nothing less)

"Because I was hoping to see you again, Miguel. I didn't think it would happen so soon and I would've been happy just to see that you were okay," you responded, finishing up with your food as you avoided all eye contact with him. "Then why'd you leave me?" He inquired, looking like the boy who'd gotten rejected from the football team all those years ago. "I didn't leave you, specifically. I left because I wanted to discover who I was without you, Miguel. I was just your girlfriend during high school, and while I don't regret our relationship one bit, I also didn't know who I was without you," you told him honestly, standing up to clean up the plates.

He led you to his bedroom after he'd taken over cleaning the plates, turning on the lights as the two of you stepped inside. He took the jacket off your shoulders and tossed it onto a chair he had on the side, taking a couple seconds to stare at you in the dress. He went behind you, sliding the zipper off with such precision and his mouth went to your shoulder, kissing every bit of skin that had become available to him. "I'll keep you buried with my cock all the time so you don't have to leave me," he mumbled, finishing up with the task at hand.

You got down on your knees and started to stroke him with your hand, trying to get adjusted to the size of him again. You kissed on his thighs the way that he liked when you two were together, the small shudder that ran through his body being enough proof that he still enjoyed the same things. You slowly lowered your mouth onto his cock, giving some kitten licks to the tip since you knew that would get him even more worked up.

You slowly swirled your tongue around the mushroom tip, licking every drop of precum that had leaked out during your teasing. You took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the size. Your hand pumped the base, squeezing around it tightly as you worked it in tandem with your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head, guiding you down his length to the best of his ability until you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your nose rubbed against his happy trail and even though tears were starting to brim on your waterline from how deep he was, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having taken him so well.

You brought your mouth down to his balls, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them while your hand jerked him off. The precum that had leaked out from his tip served as a perfect lubricant, making the whole experience all the more pleasurable towards Miguel. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your mouth running down the underside and tracing one of the veins running along the side.

"Look at me," he ordered, though his voice came out more ragged than he would've liked. you looked up at him, your mascara had dripped down your cheeks and the red lipstick that you'd worn tonight was smudged around the corners but you still looked so angelic to him. He leaned his head back, like the sight before him was just too much to look at while his hand continued to guide your head.

"Tan hermosa que eres," he murmured, his whole body shuddering as he came closer to that peak. (you’re so beautiful) He finished in your mouth and you swallowed it down greedily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helped you stand up and carried you over to the bed, slotting himself right in between your legs. He hooked his pointer finger in your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, his gaze on your glistening cunt.

He brought your panties up to his face, taking in the scent of you. He put it to the side and looked over at you, kneeling between your legs. “I'm gonna keep those. Just in case you decide to run away again," he told you, pressing small kisses on your thighs. Your legs started to wiggle as he pressed featherlight kisses on them but his firm grip on your thighs restricted you from moving them any further. He bit down on the insides of your thighs, his canines piercing the skin slightly as his tongue lapped up the small drops of blood that dribbled down.

He started licking at your folds, taking his time to get adjusted to you and your taste again before he delved in. He thrust his tongue inside, his eyes closing from the sensation of having you under him once again. You brought your hands up to his hair, tugging gently on the black curls as he continued to tease your hole. He used his tongue to thrust in and out of you, his hands up on your breasts as he tugged and massaged the nipples. He used the tip of his nose to brush up against your clit, applying stimulation every so often.

His fingers came down to your cunt and he picked up the slick you'd released with his pointer and middle finger, bringing them up to your mouth. You took them instantly, your tongue swirling around his fingers as you tasted yourself, the result of what he'd made you feel in this time together. He slowly pushed one finger in, only reaching halfway before he filled up up. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his finger, coating him with a wave of fresh arousal as he began to thrust it in and out of you at a rapid pace.

His tongue came down on your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the nub the way that had your toes curling and your hands gripping his hair. You swiveled your hips against his face, your orgasm starting to bubble up inside of you. "Beg me to cum. Beg me the same way I used to beg for you to stay in Nueva York," he told you, only stopping his movements to hear you plead for that sweet release. "Please Miguel! I won't leave you again, please just let me cum! I've been good," you pleaded, tears starting to build up at the prospect of having your orgasm ripped away from you.

"Doesn't really sound like you wanna cum, muñequita. Beg like you mean it and I’ll consider it," he teased you, his eyes sparkling with newfound mischief. You wondered why he wanted you to beg so badly, when he used to be the one who'd beg to be inside of you, to taste you, and be the one that would be willing to fuck your panties just for a feeling of you. "Please, Miguel! I'll stay with you this time! Just let me cum, please! I’ll be good," you complied with his request nonetheless, your bottom lip wobbling as you did.

He let out a dark chuckle and went back to fingering you, his mouth attached to your clit instantly. He let out a couple moans as he thrust his lower half into the mattress, seeking out a form of relief for himself as well. Your nails dug into his scalp but he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to go faster the harder you pulled at his hair. You came with a moan of his name, falling back onto the bed as you tried to control your erratic breathing.

He placed your legs against your chest as he aligned his cock with your entrance, your previous orgasm providing him with the ease that he needed to slide in. It was still a struggle to take in the sheer girth and length of him, but the sting didn't feel too bad after a couple seconds. He let you adjust to his cock before starting off slow, the look on his face being a complete change from when he'd asked you to beg. It felt like he was trying to make love to you rather than fuck you, each thrust deep but slow like he wanted to make this moment last.

"Miguel, go faster please," you spoke up after a while, needing more of what he could give you. You appreciated his efforts of wanting to take things slow, but you wanted to be fucked with such intensity that your legs would be wobbly after. He sped up, his balls slapping against the globes of your ass with each thrust. He brought your legs down and attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been starved of the taste of you. Your hands came up to his hair once more, pulling on the strands with each relentless thrust that he gave.

You enclosed your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, wanting to feel the warmth you'd been missing. He brought his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles on the nub as he angled his cock to hit your most sensitive spot. Your legs began to shake as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, threatening to snap at any moment. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, coating his cock in your slick as his thrusts started to get sloppier and faster. You tightened your legs around his waist, restricting his access to pull out. His eyes widened and you were quick to reassure him, "I'm on birth control."

He came quickly after that, his cum filling your walls completely as his cock pushed in you. He pulled his cock, making sure that he wouldn't overstimulate you in the process. He cleaned you up with a wet cloth, using light pressure as he cleaned the cum leaking out. You took a couple seconds to let your vision go back to normal before you stood up, grabbing your discarded bra and red dress.

"Where are you going, chula?" He asked you, causing you to stop your movements. "I'm going home. I figured that this was just a one night stand," you responded, looking back at him as you held your clothes in hand. "So you're gonna leave me again after you said you wouldn't?" He inquired, his brow raising as he challenged you. "What do you want me to do here, Miguel? We're not exactly friends at the moment and we're not strangers," you responded and he walked over, holding your hands in his.

"Choose to stay with me. we'll figure out this whole thing in the morning when we're not clouded with sex," he offered and you let out a small sigh, looking up at his red eyes. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but those eyes showed nothing less than the longing that had accumulated in the time you'd left. "Do you have anything I can borrow?" you asked him, setting your clothes on the chair that his coat was resting on. "Figured you could sleep in that red dress of yours, you looked magnificent in it," he suggested before he walked over to the closet to hand you one of his shirts.

He helped you take your makeup off, even taking his time with the mascara though he was growing more and more agitated. He ended up going to a pharmacy that was open 24/7 near his home to get you a cleanser and some other necessities, making sure that you were comfortable in your stay here. The two of you laid down in his bed, intertwined in his sheets as his hand rubbed small circles on your exposed thigh.

"Where does this leave us, Miguel?" You asked him after a while, wanting to get some answers. "I've never stopped loving you, y'know. I've been hoping for a while that you would just show up on the street and still want to be with me. So I guess what I'm trying to ask if you'd like to go out on a date with me. Get to know and love me again," he responded, his movements on your thigh stopping as he talked before picking back up again.

"I'd love that. For the record though, I never stopped loving you either."

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holllandtrash · 1 year

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the good guy | mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x leclerc!reader part 3 (and final part) to disapproval read part 1 here and part 2 here

after getting an earful from you (and a certain british driver) it finally sinks in for charles how much he's been neglecting your happiness and he starts to see how much mick truly means to you

word count: 2.8k warnings: none except lil bit of asshole charles still

When Charles met up with Lando and Carlos for a late lunch, there was no way he could ignore their looks of disapproval. Lando even had sunglasses on and Charles could see the judgement through the dark lenses before he could sit down.

Charles could see the shift in dynamic as well. Lando and Carlos were friends, but they way they both sat on the same side of the table, leaving the other side empty for himself made this whole meal feel like an intervention. Maybe that was their plan, they wanted to talk some sense into the Ferrari driver.

“Do not say anything,” Charles groaned, slumping in the chair. Not like they would listen to his request anyway. He glanced over the menu but nothing seemed the least bit appetising. Last night's drinks were still sitting in his system and he was worried one bite from a fruit platter would cause everything to come up.

But the alcohol wasn’t the only reason why he felt sick.

Just seeing his sister’s face when the elevator doors opened told Charles that he royally fucked up.

“Was the Instagram story apology your idea or the PR teams?” Lando asked, reaching for his water. Carlos scoffed, but Lando continued on calling their friend out on his mistakes. “You realise that’s probably the worst way to apologise, right? You’re a laughing stock all over social media right now.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Charles admitted, waving his hand at the server when he came by to take his order. He couldn’t eat anything.

Carlos leaned forward. With the most serious, dead panned look on his face, he looked directly into the eye of his teammate, “Has it ever crossed your mind to give Mick a chance?”

Charles glared at the Spaniard, “Mick isn’t the problem. She shouldn’t be dating any driver, period.”

“What about me?” Lando teased, only to be met with a similar death glare that had Lando sinking back into his seat. Charles could be intimidating when he wanted to.

“Mate, Mick is a good guy,” Carlos defended the German driver as he had done so many times before. “Your problem with him comes from your own insecurities.”

Charles grimaced, “My insecurities? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Camille?” Carlos brought up his last girlfriend, but didn’t stop there. “Colette? Who am I missing?” He looked at Lando.

“Mélanie,” Lando added, another ex. “You’ve got a bit of a track record, Charles. It was your own mistakes that ended those relationships and now you think every driver on the grid is as bad as you are.”

Was he really being scolded by a 23-year old gamer who’s most meaningful relationship was the one he had with his golf clubs?

“Most of them are,” Charles retorted. He knew first hand what majority of the drivers got up to after a race weekend. Infidelity, the partying and the lies that followed. Some of the guys were in serious relationships, more serious than his ever were, but that still didn’t stop them from making bad decisions.

“Mick’s not one of them,” Lando told him and Carlos nodded in agreement. “He’s not going to hurt your sister and if he does then he has 20 of us to answer to.”

Charles laughed at the idea of Lando trying to be threatening. That man couldn’t hurt a fly.

When Carlos excused himself to answer a phone call, Charles was really hoping that they could drop the conversation. He aimlessly picked up the menu again, not like he was going to order anything, but he only managed to scan about half of it before Lando threw a crumpled up napkin at him.

“What?” Charles spoke through clenched teeth. “I fucked up, I know.”

Lando took his sunglasses off, resting them on the surface of the table. There were no dark bags under his eyes, he probably had a great sleep last night. Lando was one of the few that didn’t wake up in the mornings wondering what sort of damage control he’d have to do to make up for the night before.

“Y/N has been nothing but supportive of you and your career,” Lando told him, as if Charles wasn’t already of that. “She’s a damn good sister to you and you can’t be arsed to show her and Mick half the respect that they give you. She’s family, Charles, but try hard enough and you will push her away. Put your own stubbornness aside for once and see how much Mick means to her, how happy he makes her. You're one of my best mates, so I say this with kindness, but you're honestly acting like a dickhead. You're not a child. She's not a child. She's in a relationship with someone who clearly loves her. Don't get in the way of that and for Christ's sakes, give Mick a break already. He's a good guy, you're not."

This was not the first time Charles had any heard this, but this was the first time he had all of it all at once from one of his closest friends. And after the events of this morning, it was sinking in deeper than it ever had before.

Charles opened his mouth, to argue of course, he didn’t like to be put in his place or told when he was wrong, but maybe it was for the best when his phone started to ring. He held his finger up to Lando and leaned back in his chair, answering immediately when he saw your name on the screen.

He barely got a word out when you started swearing at him, both in French and English. Charles couldn’t keep up with how fast you were talking but he got the main idea. That Instagram story apology did shit all to help make anything better.

Charles hated being yelled at though, so the more you raised your voice at him and told him how much of an ass he was, the more defensive he got, even when he knew he was the one in the wrong.

“A fucking Instagram story apology?” Your voice was so loud that even Lando could pick up on your words.

“What else do you want me to do?” Charles yelled back and across the table, Lando laughed.

“Be a better brother,” Lando suggested and Charles just flipped him off.

You scoffed into the receiver, “I want you to not lie on social media and put a fucking effort into getting along with Mick! Give me one good reason why you don’t approve of me dating him,”

Carlos had come back at that exact second and raised his eyebrows towards Lando who simply mouthed your name. Carlos hummed and sat down, watching the rest of this disaster of a show play out in front of him like it was a blockbuster film.

Charles had about ten reasons in the forefront of his mind as to why you shouldn’t be dating Mick, but for the life of him, he couldn’t get them out.

“You can’t,” you pointed out.

Charles rolled his eyes, not like you could see it, “He’s older than you.” Both Lando and Carlos groaned at that piss poor excuse.

“By two years.”

“He doesn’t have a career.”

“Harsh, mate,” Lando blurted out. Charles gave him a look, telling him to stop putting his two cents into his conversation.

“Maybe he’s not currently driving but that doesn't mean he’s done for good.”

“He can’t support you,” Charles said.

“I can support myself.”

Eventually, Charles just came out with it, “You shouldn’t be dating a driver, Y/N, okay?”

And it was really his own fault for using that excuse. The second those words left his mouth, you hit him right where you knew it would hurt.

“Just because you were a shitty boyfriend to your ex-girlfriends doesn’t mean Mick is going to treat me poorly too.”

Charles had never told you what happened in his last relationships, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. People gossiped. Rumours spread around the paddock and Charles knew damn well that a handful of drivers weren’t good at keeping their mouths shut.

“What is she saying?” Lando asked, more invested in this conversation than he had a right to be. Charles leaned away from the two of them, but it didn’t give him any more privacy.

“Charles, I don’t know what happened in your relationships,” he could hear the hesitancy in your tone, “but whatever fear you have, whatever you did…Mick isn’t the same guy. He’s not you, he’s-”

“Better,” Charles finished your sentence. Mick was better than he was. Mick was a good guy. He would give you the world world if you asked for it.

You laughed into the phone, agreeing that Mick in fact was a better person than Charles would ever be. “I mean, yeah. And I get it, you want to protect me but this isn’t how you go about it. You’ve just been cruel and closed off and you haven’t even tried to see Mick for the guy he is. Do you even know how happy he makes me?”

And what could Charles say to that?

He wasn’t blind, he saw how much of an impact Mick made on your life. For whatever reason that he still couldn’t wrap his head around, Mick meant the world to you. Charles told himself that it wouldn’t last and that you would eventually move on, but that still had yet to happen. Maybe it never would.

“I love him,” you said quietly, voice broken like it was your final attempt at getting through to Charles.

And again, what could Charles say to that?

This wasn’t a conversation he could have on the phone.

He abruptly hung up and slid his phone into his pocket, ignoring the confused stares from the other two drivers. Charles pushed the chair away from the table and stood up, not bothering with an explanation as he hurried to rush back to the hotel.

Charles packed up what he could in a frenzy, texting his assistant and asking them to grab anything he might have missed. His priority wasn’t making sure he had everything with him, it was getting to Monaco where he knew you were. Where else would you have gone? With that race coming up, it only made sense that you would go home early.

So a few coffees and five hours later, Charles found himself outside of your apartment building. He typed your code into the keypad to gain access and then next thing he knew, he was in front of your door.

It took nearly a minute for him to actually knock. He had no idea if you would listen to him, or even let him in. He thought about turning around and just heading back to his own place. Sending a text to meet up later might have been smarter, he’d have more time to think about what the hell he was going to say.

But no, he was already there. He had to talk to you. He needed to make things right.

When you opened the door and saw Charles, you had no idea what to think. It didn’t help that he still didn’t say anything. He drove this whole way and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. You were still waiting for a sincere apology.

“Y/N did you want Mozza or did you want to try that new sushi place?” Mick walked out of your office, focused on his phone that he didn’t even see Charles until he looked up to find out why you weren’t answering.

Charles cleared his throat, “Hi.”

Mick nodded firmly, glancing your way to get your read on the situation. He could tell right away that you didn’t invite him over. He could also tell that you didn’t know what to do and Mick being Mick needed to steer this in the right direction.

“Well don’t just stand there, come in,” Mick offered, putting his hand on your back to usher you to the side so you weren’t blocking the doorway. His touch sort of snapped you out of your own thoughts and you nodded in agreement, watching as your brother entered your flat.

This was awkward for everyone. This strange tension lingered in the air. You were mad at Charles. Charles wasn’t a fan of Mick. Mick was stuck in the middle because he loved you but he didn’t want to overstep and do anything that would really set Charles off.

“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. You leaned against the edge of your kitchen table and watched as Charles shifted uncomfortably until choosing to lean against the wall behind him. He was out of his element here, especially with Mick at your side.

“Change of plans,” he said, his eyes landing on the way Mick still hadn’t removed his hand from your back. The way you leaned into his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“I find it hard to believe you drove home early just to stop by and say hi,” the bitterness in your tone caused Charles to tense up. You didn’t want to fight, truly, but you were still annoyed with his actions.

Mick’s fingers brushed against the material of your top and you inhaled a deep breath.

“Charles, you’re family and I love you, but-”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, interrupting you halfway through your sentence. Your eyes widened, not out of shock but because you were waiting to see if more followed. “Really, I am. I’m sorry for how I’ve treated Mick since the two of you have started seeing each other.”

This apology wasn’t for you. You just shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head towards your boyfriend, “Don’t tell me that. Tell him.”

Mick straightened up and you could see it in Charles’ face that he really didn’t want to have to repeat himself.

“Mick I’m-” Charles paused, glancing at you but you were staying out of this. He needed to apologise to Mick first and then the two of you could work out your issues. Charles sighed, “Mick I’m sorry, mate. I know you’re a good guy and I know you’ll treat Y/N right. I just can’t help but have my guards up for her. I know what some of the guys on the grid have done and I’ve seen-” he hesitated when you raised an accusatory eyebrow. “It’s not easy for drivers to be in relationships and I just don’t want to see Y/N getting hurt.”

“I would never hurt her,” Mick assured him, sliding his hand further around your waist. His fingers rested on your side as he pulled you against him and gave you a gentle squeeze. "Charles, I love your sister. She's my entire world, she means everything to me."

“I know that now,” Charles said, but you were still having trouble believing his words.

“Do you?” You asked, quite bluntly “Because I’ve been saying this for months and suddenly, out of the blue, you’ve come to your senses? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Honestly you can thank Lando,” he admitted. “He reminded me how supportive you’ve been of me my entire life. You’ve stuck by my side through everything. Every win, every loss- both off and on the track and I haven’t done the same.”

“Nope,” you agreed. “You haven’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Charles finally directed the apology to you. His green eyes were filled with sorrow and guilt and for the first time there seemed to be actual strength and meaning behind those two words. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I haven’t been a good brother.”

“You’ve been the worst.”

“I know.”

“You never even tried to get to know Mick off the track.”

“I know.”

“You’re always so caught up in your own world.”

“I know.”

“You don’t even-”

“Y/N,” it was Mick’s turn to cut you off. He looked between you and Charles. Whatever you were going to say, Charles would just keep agreeing. This could go on for hours if you all let it, but Mick stepped in. “I think we should just all agree to move past this.”

You nodded, but when you looked at your brother, you were still hesitant. How did you know he wasn’t just saying what you wanted to hear?

“I need to see more of an effort from you,” you declared. “I’m not saying you two have to be the best of friends but for the love of God, Charles, don’t be an ass anymore.”

“That sounds fair,” Charles said as Mick dipped his head and chuckled.

You expected Mick to be the one to extend the first olive branch, but it was Charles who stepped forward and held out his hand. Mick, who had been waiting for this since you started dating, happily stepped away from you to shake your brother's hand, only to pull him into that sort-of half embrace that men were notorious for.

“I know it doesn’t need to be said- or maybe I should have said it a long time ago," Charles started off as they pulled away, keeping one hand on his arm, “But welcome to the family, Mick."

Things weren't perfect after that, not at first at least. It took a bit of time, but eventually, Charles truly did see Mick as part of the family.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 78,439 others

tagged: charles_leclerc and mickschumacher

yourusername it only took a game of football for them to become best friends❤️😉

view all 5,322 comments

charles_leclerc we were literally rooting for different teams

yourusername at least you're watching the game together mickschumacher he's still bitter because his team lost

fiftyfive the duo we needed

landonorris why wasn't I invited i'm the one who talked some sense into charles in the first place

charles_leclerc mate its been months let it go landonorris never

charles_leclerc added to their story

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, f1 and 528,914 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

mickschumacher quick dip

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carlossainz55 did you push him in?

yourusername he did mickschumacher it was self defence charles_leclerc 🤨🤨🤨

f1 here for this bromance

liked by yourusername

yourusername added to their story

liked by mickschumacher, yourusername and 588,938 others

tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc and mickschumacher

f1 we love seeing the drivers hang out during the summer break❤️😉

view all 63,110 comments

yourusername i was literally suffocating

charles_leclerc you're the one who wanted us to get along yourusername laying on top of me was not what i had in mind

paddockgf y/n is actually living the dream

mickschumacher

liked by mercedesamgf1, charles_leclerc and 873,116

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mickschumacher it's always been you and I against the world, but now it's official ❤️ I love you, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you

view all 78,225 comments

mercedesamgf1 so is he taking her last name or

charles_leclerc yes

danielricciardo WOOOO CONGRATS TO THE HAPPY COUPLE

landonorris mick are you sure you want charles as a brother?

yourusername do you want to be invited to the wedding? landonorris hey its because of ME that charles even gave you his blessing, you wouldn't even be dating if it weren't for me yourusername it's actually impressive how much of that sentence is inaccurate charles_leclerc i mean, he's not completely wrong

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 89,365 others

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yourusername forever with my best friend? obviously i said yes❤️💍

view all 8,283 comments

mickschumacher i love you❤️❤️

georgerussell63 congrats you two🥂🥂

charles_leclerc if i'm not his best man then the wedding is cancelled

liked by mickschumacher

requests are open • masterlist

a/n: i guess its time for a new mini series hehe

taglist: @spicyclover @leclerc16s @totally-random-person @majx00 @lighttsoutlewis @ellethewitchbitch @grimmducky @lucyhotchner @clintsupremacy @sussyzee @fock-smash @that-aesthetic-chic @alma23f1 @sbgal @h0e-xoxo @ivegotparticulartaste @sachaa-ff @emiiarmenn @konsti081 @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @melagemo0263 @myescapefromthislife @mehrmonga @pleasantducktimetravel @whatthefuckerr @kuskumu

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher instagram edit #mick schumacher #f1 social media au #f1 requests #f1 one shot #f1 instagram au #f1 #charles leclerc #instagram au #social media au #holllandtrash #lando literally saves the day i guess #lando norris #mick schumacher x reader

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eilishalways · 6 months

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⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me - pt 2

summary: a follow up to the first part 🤭

warnings: alcohol consumption & people being tipsy

a/n: I HOPE THIS ISNT BAD LMAOO

it was two nights after the grammys, and billie was fretting. you had given her your number at the end of the night, but billie was still too scared to text you. she lay in her bed, not knowing what to do. you were very nice about giving her your number - eager, almost, but billie was still too nervous? what if she said something weird? what if you didn’t want to talk to her? there were so many bad scenarios possible.

billie looked at the time. it was 5 to midnight. would you even be up? would you be asleep? were you talking to someone else? she was scared. very scared. she went downstairs and made herself some coffee, and sat at the breakfast table. she contemplated what to do. as she was scrolling through instagram, she saw you had made a new post. two images, both very risqué. the caption was just the telephone emoji. billie blushed, and took it as a sign to text you. so she did.

billie sent you a simple ‘hey’, not expecting you to reply till morning. but within five minutes you responded back with ‘who’s this?’. billie had forgotten that you had only given her your number, and you hadn’t exchanged them.

it’s billie

oh hey!! how are you?

i’m good, hbu?

the conversation continued well into the night. it was 4am when you finally said ‘look, i’ve gtg now. it’s really late.’ billie was sad but responded with ‘yeah it’s super late’. but before you went to sleep you asked her ‘would you like to come round to my house tomorrow? well, technically today.’ billie immediately typed back with ‘i’d love that’

sounds good. i’ll send you my address later. also - bring a swimsuit. we can get in my pool!

that sounds really nice! what time should i be there for?

uhhh, maybe at half 6 or 7? i’ll cook up a bit of dinner.

sounds great! see you then!

despite billie’s coolness over text, she was absolutely freaking out. dinner at your house??? getting in your pool???? she wasn’t able to sleep after that, too nervous to focus on anything else. thankfully she wasn’t doing anything that day, so she could try to figure out what to wear and should she bring anything.

fast forward to midday, billie was eating her lunch, still thinking over what she might wear? a tshirt and jeans? a dress? a jumper? the options were endless, but none seemed right. she couldn’t just ask you what to wear as well - that’d be weird. billie finished her lunch and went back up to her room to decide what to wear. as she opened her wardrobe, something caught her eye. a top she had worn from a concert she did in dublin, with marilyn monroe’s face as a pattern on it. she knew she’d wear it, but she had to find a swimsuit to wear first. she rifled through a drawer until she found a simple black one, nothing too special but nothing too drab either. she took off the pyjamas she was already wearing and stuck the swimsuit on. after that, she put on the top and paired it with some black shorts, nearly replicating the previous concert outfit.

five o’clock came quicker than billie thought, and soon after that she was on the way to your place. although you both lived in LA, you were pretty far from eachother. so billie decided to be safe rather than sorry & left early. when she got to the door, she hesitated to knock. your place was so big & modern that she was slightly intimidated by it. but after a minute of careful consideration, she knocked. you answered the door in seconds, dressed in a short dress. billie’s heart skipped a beat as you led her inside. she followed you to the kitchen, where she smelled the familiar aroma of her favourite noodle soup.

“i followed the recipe from your insta highlight,” you said, “so i hope it’s alright. i’m sure you make it better than i do.” billie thanked you for the meal as you both sat down at the table and began to eat. you talked about a lot of things… the grammys, the media, upcoming tours, etc. billie found herself falling more and more in love as the conversation went on. about 20 minutes later, billie finished her noodles at the same time you did, and again thanked you for it. you smiled and said it was no bother. “how do you fancy getting in the pool now?” you asked. “that sounds really good,” billie smiled, “i’ve got my swimsuit on under this, actually.” your smile lit up even further as you replied “i do too!”

you both got out of your clothes and hopped into the pool. “its so warm.” billie remarked. “yeah, i have heaters in it.” you said smiling. billie looked you up and down, in awe of your swimsuit that made you look like a goddess. you swam around together for a while before you left the pool, saying you’d be back in a minute. “ok, see ya in a minute.” billie replied, wondering what you were doing. billie was surprised when you came back with two wine glasses, and a bottle of a really expensive red wine. “wow,” billie said, “is this for us?” “well, who else would it be for?” you laughed. you poured the wine into the glasses, and handed billie one. she took a sip, and watched as you did the same. “it’s really good,” billie commented, “don’t think i’ve had this before.”

as the evening went on, you and billie drank more wine, and slowly got more tipsy. you smiled at billie as she told you about a song she was in the middle of recording, her face lighting up in excitement. “you’re so pretty.” you said abruptly without a warning. billie blushed. “so are you.” she responded, the alcohol making her more confident. “like- really pretty,” you went on, “super pretty.” billie didn’t know how to respond. being complimented by the woman she had a massive crush on? she was blushing like mad. “i could- i could just kiss you.” you said, a smirk on your face. billie didn’t respond as a shocked expression took over her face. you waited a few seconds before leaning in and kissing her. billie kissed back immediately, setting her glass on the side of the pool. you kissed her passionately, and she did the same. you continued like that for a while, until you were making out with eachother.

“wow.” was all billie said. “you’re a good kisser.” you remarked, a hand still on billie’s cheek. “i- i really liked that. like, really liked that.” billie confessed. “me too.” you smirked, before leaning in to kiss her again.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #eilishalways

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touteslespetiteschosess · 6 months

Text

Is It Over Now? || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian and y/n have been fighting for so long, she's not even sure she knows what they're fighting for anymore. Angst.

Warnings: toxic relationship

Word count: 3458

Masterlist

y/n well done on your goal, amour x will you want dinner when you get home? i'm making myself some pasta so i'll do extra for you x do you know what time you'll be home? i've left some food in the fridge for you x kylian can you reply please? i'm worried it's getting late, where are you?

A deep frown was etched on her face, she stared at her ignored texts, the oldest sent five hours ago and the most recent nearly an hour ago. None of them had received a response and neither had her calls.

She hadn't been able to go to his match today, as she'd already arranged to go out for her friend's birthday in the morning. Kylian hadn't minded though, it wasn't a particularly important match and she rarely missed any of his games, so she could be forgiven for this. Surely that wasn't why he was ignoring her. Well, knowing him at the moment she could easily conclude that there was no reason behind the radio silence. He was just being Kylian.

Dick.

She knew he probably had no reason to ignore her; he was most likely just over at Achraf's and didn't value her emotions enough to dain her with a text back. Still, having been alone in the house for so many hours with only her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. It only felt natural to pick up her phone and she really couldn't help herself from opening Instagram. Her thumbs had a mind of their own, opening one of his fan accounts.

Then there he was, grainy footage of him on their story at some club in Paris, surrounded by his teammates. And then there was somebody else. Some girl sat at his side- on his side more really- his arm flopped lazily over the back of the booth behind her.

She was saying something and he was laughing. He was laughing in a way that he never did with y/n anymore. Wow, he was really laughing- surely nothing she said could be that funny.

The video was short, maybe five seconds, but she restarted it, watching it again, feeling a fire raging within her. The next story was a photo that some stranger in the club had taken. The pair were on the dance floor, none of his friends were in sight now. Her hands were up in the air and only now did y/n notice the girl's outfit. She wore a little red dress, just like the one that hung up in y/n and Kylian's shared closet. It was his favourite dress and she knew it.

At the sight, the fire that burned within her suddenly settled, an eery calm setting over her. After a few moments, she headed upstairs and drew a bath, watching the water slowly rise up the tub's sides. She loved that bath; the tub was huge, yet elegant, and sat right in front of a huge window which gave the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Besides that, she and Kylian had spent some memorable nights in this bathtub. Not for a while though, she thought.

Now that she really considered it, she wasn't sure how many good memories she had with Kylian in the last six months. Maybe after three years together, she'd just grown used to the knowledge that she loved him and hadn't considered if he still deserved it. Maybe she hadn't considered if he still deserved her.

Maybe she'd been so caught up in the idea of the perfect man she'd met in that bar three years ago. She still remembered that innocent smile so vividly, the way he'd lift his glass to sip, almost hiding behind the thing. How every time she'd flirt with him, he'd blush like a schoolboy, and then suddenly shoot back with the most outrageous comment.

How a month after they'd started dating, the pandemic hit, and he'd turned up at her door, much to her disapproval. Then, he'd immediately asked her to move in with him. She still remembered his words.

Take a chance. If we're gonna go down, let's go down in flames. I don't wanna forget you, baby.

That aged like room-temperature milk.

He'd convinced her so easily, his charming smile and smooth words always getting the best of her. And he'd been right. Those had been the best few months of her life.

And even after lockdown, when she was back at work and football became more full on, everything had just seemed so right. He just seemed so right.

Every time he'd go away for matches, he'd always find some stupid trinket to bring home for her. The tradition had started the week they'd met, when she'd asked him out on another date and he'd had to turn her down, as he was playing away in Italy. He'd brought her back a little keyring- a pizza with Italia written on it. It was so tacky and so cheesy that she immediately fell in love... with the keyring. Their fridge was still littered with far too many magnets to count, very out of place in his black and white, minimalist kitchen.

Of course, she remembered the first gift, and she remembered the first time he'd forgotten. It was after an away match to Manchester City. An away match that had knocked PSG out of the Champions League- in the semi-finals.

It wasn't that she'd been expecting a gift- no, she completely understood. It was difficult for him; he'd been injured and therefore couldn't play the second leg. He'd had to go all the way to Manchester and didn't even get to kick the ball. He just had to sit on the bench and watch his dream fade before his eyes.

Despite not playing, she knew he blamed himself. He always blamed himself. For the injury. For not scoring in the first leg. For everything.

At the time, she hadn't been upset that he hadn't bought her some shitty magnet for their already cluttered fridge or a bottle opener for their already stuffed drawer. Besides, Manchester didn't have much to offer in the tourism department besides football, so she could forgive him for not wanting to search through shops full of his opponents' memorabilia, just to uphold their tradition.

Looking back on it though, that was the moment he snapped. Three weeks later, he'd returned from Reims empty-handed; when she'd playfully questioned him, asking how she was supposed to sleep at night without an 'I <3 Reims' t-shirt, he'd grunted something about being busy with work and she tried not to let her face fall, wishing he'd have just made some stupid joke in response.

Y/n, I can't afford to keep buying you all these presents.

Honey, nobody hearts Reims.

Well, I had some grapes for you but I got peckish.

But no, he'd just grumbled some excuse and gone up to their room. They'd won the game too. The last match of the season. Sure, they hadn't won the league but that fate had been sealed weeks ago.

Of course, at the time, she hadn't sat up at night, tossing and turning because her relationship was over. She'd understood. For him, she'd understood.

Then, the trinkets began to come every other away match, then once a month, once every few months, and then they stopped coming. The last remnant of their once-sacred tradition still sat on her fridge. He'd brought it back after an unremarkable league tie against Nice. A little magnet in the shape of a palm tree, in the colours of the French flag, with two words on it.

Trés Nice!

What did that even mean? Neither of them were sure. She loved it.

After that, however, the keyrings, and magnets, and bottle openers, and t-shirts, and pens had suddenly stopped. Not trés Nice!

The bath was full, the bubble bath she'd added working a treat. Slowly, she eased herself into the warm water, sighing as she settled back in the tub. She didn't even have her phone but she really didn't care. For what must have been an hour, she stared out the window at the city below her. From his castle, she watched his kingdom, knowing she didn't have a place in it anymore.

She stared at the dark streets they used to haunt, giggling hand in hand as they snook out of their apartment for late-night strolls (though it was always technically morning) down streets that at any other hour would be packed with hundreds of people, pointing at Kylian. Or when they used to go to tourist attractions in the middle of the winter and he'd pull on a balaclava, dragging her up the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Elysees, insisting her liked the thrill. In truth, so did she.

She liked standing hand in hand with him, knowing the crowds around them had no idea Kylian Mbappé was in their midst, and they never would because he was her Kylian. For that moment, at least.

It was late when she heard the door downstairs, the security system blaring loudly. She didn't panic, as it quickly turned off. He didn't say a word on his arrival. She could hear him drawing closer to their bedroom, his feet heavy on the stairs, in the hallway, in their room, approaching the bathroom door.

She thought he'd let his guard down when they first met, telling her his worries and fears, but maybe he only truly knocked down his walls that night in the bathroom months ago, showing his true self.

Maybe she only truly got to know him after Qatar, when he really snapped. When she'd tried to comfort him and he'd yelled at her because she'd never truly understand what he was going through. She'd told him she was sorry. She'd apologised. For what? She still wasn't quite sure.

Maybe she only truly knew Kylian when she'd been struggling at work, doing overtime to catch up on her ridiculous workload at home. She'd missed his match and he'd lost; then, when he returned home and she hadn't been in the mood for kisses and cuddles, he'd been furious. He'd said it was her fault she was stressed- she'd brought it on herself. She could quit her job any day and never worry about money again. She'd tried to explain but he couldn't comprehend her need for self-reliance. If anything, he was insulted that she didn't trust him enough to let him take care of her. He'd never been overly traditional or had an obviously fragile masculinity but that night she'd questioned everything she thought she knew about him.

Of course, he'd apologised the next morning and she'd forgiven him. They were both stressed and there was no reason to let one pressure-fueled spat escalate into more than it needed to. Then those one-off spats became more and more common until they were the norm. If they weren't in silence, they were fighting.

They only found peace when they were fucking. Even that physicality wasn't what it once was, no longer the same slow, gentle love-making. Now it was always quick, desperate, his once soft kisses now left bruises and his whispers of sweet nothings had morphed into wordless grunts and moans.

Is that all this relationship was anymore? Physical.

Light flooded the dimly-lit bathroom, as he swung the door open carelessly. He looked almost taken back at the sight of her, his eyebrows raising a little, as though he hadn't expected to see her here- in her own house.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her house. Sure, she'd lived here for almost as long as they'd been together but it was never really her house. It was Kylian's house in Kylian's city, and she was here too.

He stared at her for a few seconds before smirking, "Hey." he mumbled, already stripping down to join her.

She sunk further down in the tub, allowing the thick layer of bubbles to give her back her modesty. Silently, she watched him, her lips a flat line, her eyes on his face, not his naked body. He wasn't looking back at her. He was too focused on hastily ripping of his trousers and his shirt.

Without hesitation or any more words exchanged, he climbed in the tub and she leant forward as he slipped behind her. She wanted to be held in his arms just one more time, to feel his body against hers. He positioned his legs on either side of her, his arms flopping over her shoulders, as he pulled her back into his chest. Resting his face on her shoulder, he let out a noise, somewhere between a contented hum and a whine.

She ignored him, turning her head to stare out of the window. The city's skyline was dark and at this time, the tower's lights were off. Now, it was just a dark silhouette against a dark horizon, only made visible by the bright light of the full moon.

"What are you sulking about?"

As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and she almost wretched at the scent. Her voice was calm and steady, as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Her voice sounded like she had an innocent curiosity in the question as if she didn't already know the answer, or she was merely asking to make small talk.

"Oh, some of the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win."

He didn't lift his head from her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the damp skin. He lied with such ease. Well, he hadn't entirely lied, just withheld some important elements of the truth. Maybe she'd have preferred it if he'd just lied to her. At least then he would have had to make a conscious effort to deceive her. No, this felt so much worse; he spoke with such ease, as though it was the whole truth, and maybe he too believed it. Maybe he believed that she didn't need to know about the girl in the red dress, just like he'd believed she didn't need a text back, or a kiss goodbye before he left the house this morning, or a goodnight before she fell asleep last night or the night before that or the night before that.

"And who was that girl?" she asked, her voice still chirpy, not a hint of bitterness showing in her tone.

"Huh?" he twisted his head, the side of it on her shoulder, gazing up at her face.

"The girl you were with. She was in a red dress, like the one I have. Blonde hair and-"

"Oh," he cut her off quickly, "she's one of Ousmane's friends, I think."

"You think?"

"Mhm, I don't really know. I didn't speak to her that much."

Now, that wasn't a half-truth, that was simply a lie.

"Oh, okay. Just 'cause you seemed really friendly with her."

He scoffed, lifting his head, his tone suddenly switching, "What, were you stalking me?"

"No, but you didn't reply to my texts and you came home seven hours after the match finished, so I wanted to make sure you weren't dead in some ditch."

"Of course, I wasn't. Can I not have a night out with my friends?"

"Yeah, that's fine but you didn't fucking text me back and the next thing I see you've got some random girl in your lap at the club and you don't even have the courtesy to tell me about it."

"It wasn't like that! Why would I come home and tell my girlfriend that some nobody had been coming onto me in the club?" he snapped.

"Because you were coming onto her too! Don't you think I deserved to be warned that people were going to post pictures of my boyfriend with someone else! It's fucking humiliating!"

She stood up and climbed out of the bath, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She quickly grabbed her robe from where it hung and wrap it around herself. She sat on the little ottoman in the corner, hugging her arms around herself.

"What are you saying? You know I wouldn't cheat on you!"

He yelled the statement as though it were a fact. Maybe he believed it. He seemed to believe a lot of things. Maybe he just didn't think about her perspective much.

"No, I don't! What reason have you given me to trust you?"

His face fell into an expression of fury, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, Kylian!" she almost yelled and almost sighed, somewhere in the middle, "I don't know. What are we even doing this for?"

"You tell me! You're the one picking a fight for no reason!"

"No, not this just... why are we here? We keep fighting and I don't know what for."

He stood up, "What..."

"I'm not happy! You're not happy! What's the point!"

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he rushed over to her, "I'm happy, of course I am!"

"Well, I'm not." she murmured, standing up from the seat and heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you doing, where are you going?" he asked, panic setting over him.

"Away," she muttered, heading to the closet.

"No, you're not." he declared, chasing after her, "Look, baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Ignoring him, she began to change into some joggers and a hoodie. "Y/n, you're not leaving me."

"Why not? All we ever do is fight! There's no point in us being together if we make each other fucking miserable!"

"I told you, you make me happy! You make me happier than anyone else in the world!"

"Why don't you treat me like it then? Why don't you treat me like I'm worth anything? Like I'm a fucking human being!"

He was quiet, watching her as she grabbed a bag and started to toss clothes into it. "Y/n, I love you. I-"

"Do you, though? Really?"

"I do. Look I know I've been busy with work but you know how stressful my job is. I'm trying to be here for you and do my best for the team-"

"No, you're not. I know how hard you work but I have needs too. I can't keep doing this."

She dropped to her knees, zipping up the bag, packed with enough clothes for a few days. He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit as she tried to get her toothbrush from the bathroom.

As she stood in front of him, he took her hands in his, "Please, baby, I'll change. I'll do it for you, I swear."

"It's too late, Ky," she said, shoving past him. He didn't budge, "Kylian, get out of my way."

He clutched her hands as though his life depended on it, placing soft kisses on both of them, "I need you. You can't leave me."

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you?"

She shoved him out of the way and grabbed a few things from the bathroom before heading for the front door. He chased after her, his mind racing and his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest. He swore it was working so hard he could hear his heartbeat in his ears- or was it the sound of her feet on the stairs?

"Y/n," God, her name sounded so right on his lips, he wanted to say her name forevermore, "she meant nothing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have entertained her like that." Tears were forming in his hazel eyes, he watched her putting on her shoes, "Y/n, you can't leave me, I love you. I- I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be on my own."

"Kylian," she stood up and cupped his cheek. Her hand was so warm and fit so perfectly around his face, as though it was moulded just for it, "you know I'll always love you."

Covering her hand with his own, he shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Don't do this to me, amour."

She hated seeing him like this: he barely ever cried. In all of their time together, she'd seen him cry maybe four times and it had never been because of her.

Her soft thumb wiped away the tear, "Don't cry. You'll be okay."

Then she was gone. The door was open and then it was closed. She was there and then she was gone.

He watched the space she'd been stood in for far too long, as though she'd swing the door open at any moment and declare that she'd had a sudden change of heart. But she wouldn't.

She was gone. It was over.

Masterlist

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x y/n #mbappé #mbappe #footballer #france #fanfic #football #french

268 notes · View notes

floressokaap · 3 months

Text

"What Was I Made For?"

Pairing: John Dory x Reader

Content Warning: none! Enjoy! :)

A/N: Hello! The majority of my fics will be AFAB w/pronouns unless specified/requested! Thank you!<3

Photo credit: etherealfeature on Instagram!

John Dory. You really didn't know exactly how to describe him. Many people describe him as somebody with narcissistic tendencies, and absolutely selfish. And, they were right. But what a lot of trolls didn't realize was the fact that you are in love with him, and he unfortunately stays trapped inside his mind for so long that he doesn't quite realize how good he has it right now.

After saving Floyd, everyone that parted ways started their recovery process due to their own talents getting slowly sucked out from them by ex superstars Velvet and Veneer. Floyd stayed with Branch in his underground bunker, Clay went back to the mini golf course with Viva to situate her reunion with King Peppy after the last Bergen attack, and Bruce went back to Vacay Island to be with his kids and Brandy. What did that leave you to do? The only thing you ever thought to do; To take care of John Dory and help him recover in Rhonda, wherever the roads took you both.

"JD, what are you doing?" Your ears perked at the sound of blankets rustling against the couch cushions. There was silence before a response was heard.

"I'm not doing anything, I'm resting like you're wanting me to."

You put a magazine down on the table and glanced over at him. He was slowly reaching for his jacket and goggles, and seemed restless. "We need food-" "JD, we already have food here for the both of us." He clenches his jaw slightly. He knew you were going to be hard to get through. "I need to check Rhonda's oil." He quickly sat up, and threw his fur coat on, slapping his goggles into position against his forehead. "You need to rest-" "I don't need to, I can't just NOT do anything, I'm the leader, I HAVE to be productive and do my part to make sure everything's perfect."

"John Dory, we're not doing this again."

He continued standing up and walking towards the side door. He looked down at the door handle, contemplating on your concerns before brushing them off his shoulders and walked out on you. You furrowed your brows and sighed in frustration.

You couldn't count how many times John Dory would have his perfection episodes, and pushed himself over the limits. Every time you call him out on those moments and try to calm him down, he refuses, and shuts himself out. You let him have about ten minutes of alone time outside before you eventually stood up from your seat and walked out Rhonda's side door. You expected him to be near her, but he was nowhere to be found. "C'mon JD.." you shook your head to yourself as you slowly walked around the forest where you were camping at. You started to worry before you found him sitting on a fallen tree log lying against the ground. He had his head lowered, and his forearms against his legs, staring at the earth beneath him.

You smiled in relief, because he didn't go very far as you knew deep down, and you slowly made your way to the seat right next to him. His shoulders fell more when he snapped out from his train of thought, and glanced over to look at you. You could see the pain in his eyes. His eyes were dry, and the crows feet near his eyes were more prominent and defined. "JD, are you.. alright?"

"Yeah, of course I'm alright!" He put on his photogenic leader and big brother smile on his face. Why couldn't he open up to you.

"JD, I know you're not alright, something is really bothering you. Why do you feel like you need to be perfect all the time? Even when your body doesn't even have the strength to begin with?" His jaw slacked a little at your forwardness, but he then clenched his jaw and darted his eyes away from yours. "Please, don't shut me out like this. You do this every time." He squeezed his eyes shut. He hated being confronted like that. He knew you, and he knew you would keep trying for an answer. He didn't have an escape from you. He let out a very shaky and slow sigh. There was no going back for him.

"My brothers, they all said I never changed. I mean, we almost didn't even save Floyd because of it." He shook his head disappointedly to himself and balled his hands into fists. "I'm the oldest brother, the leader, it was predetermined for me to be this way! And everybody has something to say about me! Why! They can't see the work I put into everything I do to be perfect! My brothers can't see that either." He frowned a lot, and his ears drooped downwards in disappointment, vulnerability, and freight. "I have to be this way, for everybody's sake. My own sake. This is what John Dory is. This is what I was made for. I was made to carry the responsibility. What else could I have been possibly brought here for?"

You immediately reached over and put your hand on top of his before he could even mutter another word out from his lips.

"JD, you.. you are so smart, strong, talented, and it kills me that you can't see that in yourself. So what if your brothers are right? There's nothing wrong with that. It's something different when you don't feel like you deserve that kind of commitment from people, even your own brothers, because you're too good for it. They say those things, and bring up a lot of the past because they care for you, and they really do love you. You can't change the choices you made when you were a teenager, but you can decide how that will build your character in this moment." John Dory stared at your hand slowly intertwining with his, you could see the tears in his glistening eyes. You could see the vulnerable, younger, and even current John Dory in his eyes. You could feel the fear, worry, responsibilities, and faults he made; and how much it absolutely eats him up and keeps him hostage in his own mind.

"(Y/N), where is this all coming from? Why?-"

"I've always felt this way, JD. When I got to know you and your brothers while we were journeying to Mount Rageous, I realized that.. nobody really hardly ever gives you enough credit for the things you deal with alone. Your brothers' own experiences with you are valid, but, I see the work you're putting into making sure you're still needed here, as a big brother, and.. as the man I'm in love with." You feel your heart shoot itself into your throat before sinking straight down to your stomach.

John Dory's eyes immediately widened, as his shoulders and back tensed up. You could sense the change of mood in him, and there was no way he was going to run away from his problems now like this. You tightened your grip on his hand and leaned towards him, putting your lips against his tense ones. It felt like time had completely frozen, but the world was still spinning as you felt John Dory's lips move and lean into the kiss more and his calloused gloved hand cup your cheek shakily. He then pulled you as close as he humanly possibly could with his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel the passion behind his lips, and body language, along with the tears going down his tired cheeks. He pulled away from your lips slowly, and immediately slid his goggles off his face, tossing them aside to the ground and starts pressing his forehead against yours, letting the tears fall down from his cheeks.

"(Y/N).. thank you. Thank you so much."

"You don't need to thank me for that, JD. It's true. Everything that I said was and is true. I will stand behind it every single second of every day. I promise you that." His eyes stared at you lovingly as a soft smile spread across his face showing the slight wrinkles and crows feet that peek from his eyes and mouth.

"Oh, uh, here, you must be cold." He took off his fur coat and wrapped it around your figure. "We've been out here for a while now." You nodded and proceeded to stand up from the log, holding your hand out. "Let's go warm up inside Rhonda." John Dory nodded as he took your delicate hand in his rather large and tough hand. He smiled lovingly at you as he guided you back to Rhonda, who still kept her engine on and the inside very warm for you two.

You adjusted the couch cushions and made room for you and John Dory to spoon together, him being the little spoon tonight while you wrapped your arms around his torso.

"I love you, (Y/N)" You smiled lovingly to yourself as you squeezed him softly. "I've waited a long time to hear those words from you, John Dory." "Oops, sorry." He laughed playfully and nervously as he rubbed and massaged your knuckles with his thumb.

You pressed the side of your head against John Dory's shoulders, listening to the calmness and relaxation of his body. This may have been the only time he's ever been this way, for anybody, even himself.

But who knew that with the cards he was dealt with in life would be the turnaround point of his character, and even your own freshly started relationship with him; And you would be there every step of the way. That meant through the days he is the happiest with himself for being a good leader, and through the days where he would question his entire purpose with trying to maintain the perfect harmony, the perfect family and if that was really all there was in this world.

He knows now that's not true, and he can once in his life relax and be comfortable with himself, regardless of the past life he made.

He can finally start living his new life, with you and his real, true, full family.

#Spotify #john dory #john dory trolls #john dory trolls 3 #trolls x reader #brozone x reader #brozone #trolls band together #trolls 3 #john dory x reader #trolls x self insert

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goosefruit · 5 months

Text

5 times vanessa brought you flowers (drabble collection)

vanessa shelly x fem!reader

tw: none

a/n: i need her to show up at my door with a bouquet of flowers ples

Hydrangeas

The first time Vanessa showed up at your door with a bouquet of flowers was on the night of your first date.

She nervously shuffled her feet, wondering how you might react to her last-minute grocery store purchase. In her defense, she had just finished working a night shift mere hours before she had to start getting ready for tonight.

An arrangement of baby blue hydrangeas laid in her arms, with little white flowers filling the gaps.

Vanessa had stood in the flower section of the store for a good half hour as she tried to decide on the perfect offering for you. The obvious choice would be roses, but she was afraid of coming off too strong.

After all, she had only known you for a week, after dancing with you at a bar. Even then, there was a spark between the two of you that she had never felt before, and she knew that she would do anything to have this work out.

So she decided on something perhaps even more thoughtful than roses.

The hydrangeas had caught her eyes the moment she saw them. They were the same shade of blue as the sparkly aquamarine earrings you always wore (she knew because you were wearing them the night you met, as well as in most of your Instagram pictures). Something about the delicate hue reminded her of your soft smile and gentle eyes.

Those same blossoms of blue were seen in your favourite vase for months after, its petals dried and preserved.

‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ°•. ✿ .•°

Wildflowers

For your one year anniversary, Vanessa had planned a picnic in a nearby meadow.

You sat under the warm May sun with your eyes closed, leaning against your girlfriend's shoulder. The occasional cool breeze tickled your skin as you basked in the sunlight, sighs of delight falling from your lips.

In every direction, fields of colour stretched on for miles. Flowers of all shapes and sizes were beginning to wake from their winter slumber, with many already in full bloom.

Groggily, you opened one eye to admire how wonderfully Vanessa’s blonde locks gleamed in the afternoon light.

“Hey honey,” she smiled when she noticed you staring. Giving you a peck on the forehead, she began to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You thought about following her, but were in way too comfortable of a position for your muscles to want to move. Instead, you laid back on the picnic mat and listened to the birdsong overhead.

Vanessa returned soon after, prancing towards you in her pretty pink sundress. She held out a brilliant bundle of wildflowers: reds, blues, oranges, and yellows amongst various shades of green. The stems were tied together with a blade of grass, assembled into a perfect little bouquet.

“For you, my beautiful girl.”

‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ°•. ✿ .•°

Lilies of the Valley

This time, Vanessa had to ask the Internet for help.

You and her had been in rocky waters for the past week, arguing over trivial things such as who was going to do the dishes.

She knew that you were only matching her attitude, as she had been quite unfair in how she spoke to you lately. Really, she didn’t mean it—the long, stressful shifts at work had gotten the better of her, but instead of talking it out, she pent up those emotions until they overflowed.

Vanessa knew she had to do something to clean up the mess that she had created.

A Google search for apology gifts gave her a list of ideas, and she set out for the store while you were at work one day. It took her several tries before she found a florist that supplied what she was looking for.

The vase held a bunch of delicate little white flowers, each hanging off of thin green stems in rows. There must have been at least a hundred of them, every one perfectly bell-shaped.

She recalled that you had once stopped to admire a patch of these on a walk, which is why she recognized them almost immediately when they came up on her search. Apparently, they symbolized apology, amongst other things.

Knowing that she would already be at work by the time your shift ended, she left the flowers alongside a note on the dining table:

My dearest Y/N,

You are my world, but I haven’t been treating you like it lately. I’m sorry that I’ve been a terrible communicator, and for taking out all my stress on you. You didn’t deserve that.

I got you a little something here: Lilies of the valley. It has a pretty name, just like you.

I know it doesn’t make up for how I acted, but take it as a token of my love. Really sorry I can’t be home tonight; you know how my shifts are.

Maybe we can do something fun when I get back?

I’m going to do better from now on, my love <3

-Nessa

‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ°•. ✿ .•°

Roses

On Valentine’s Day, you received the sweetest, reddest roses.

Vanessa had taken a day off just to prepare for the occasion, taking it upon herself to decorate the entire apartment with candles and petals.

At her insistence, she picked you up from work, wearing a suit so nice it made you feel underdressed in your plain blouse and jeans. The look was completed by a rose between her teeth, one corner of her mouth lifted in a gentle smirk. You giggled at how ridiculous but sexy she looked.

She presented you with a bouquet she had hidden behind her back, a dozen more roses bound by lace and gold wrapping paper.

Each flower had been carefully handpicked by her, the process having taken her nearly half a day at the florist’s. She made sure to select only the most vibrant ones, with every petal intact, for her babygirl.

They smelled so good, it made your heart flutter. Of course, you knew that roses were known for their fragrance, but something about getting them from the love of your life made the sweet scent all the more mesmerizing.

To top it all off, the lace holding everything together had the same colour and pattern as that chic white lingerie set you knew she loved seeing you in.

You took a mental note to change into it before the evening’s fun.

‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ°•. ✿ .•°

Paper flowers

You were puzzled when Vanessa took an unusual interest in the crafts section of the dollar store.

Your girlfriend had never expressed herself as an artistic person, always leaving all the home decor DIY stuff to you. But now, she was buying stacks of coloured paper and disappearing to her office with them for hours at a time.

You had been reading on the couch one Sunday afternoon when you felt her hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Don’t peek! I have a surprise for you,” she whispered excitedly.

You nodded, keeping your eyes shut as she set something down on the table in front of you.

“Okay, now open your eyes!”

The product of her mystery project blew your mind beyond words.

In a tall glass vase, she had placed paper flowers of all different colours, each resembling different species with shocking accuracy. They were folded with such neatness that you immediately understood why it had taken Vanessa so long.

“I saw a video online, so I knew I had to make some for you,” she grinned cheekily. “The papercuts were all worth it.”

You grabbed her face and kissed her, all while a singular thought circulated through your mind: How many other hidden talents did this woman have?

#fnaf x reader #vanessa afton #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #fnaf vanessa #wlw fluff #flowers #vanessa shelly drabbles #vanessa shelly imagines #vanessa shelly fluff

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Text

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 5 - jb

Song recommendation for today's update: Tink - Toxic

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The rest of the night went without you even noticing, mostly because of the extra drinks you had after telling the girls about the little selfie with Gio. And as you supposed, they loved how well played it was.

Another thing you could still remember vividly while you managed to open your eyes was that even after you said goodbye, you encountered Gio once again on the dance floor.

You danced together for a couple of songs. It was obvious you were having fun; Gio always behaved like an absolute sweetheart, super respectful, and even though you knew some flirting was there, he never made it obvious. He was good company.

Now you were fully awake, having a dejávu when you realized Mia and Nikki were sleeping in the same position from a few days ago. Odd.

“I can't believe we partied until four A.M” Mia's voice, sounding raspy as always when she drank too much, made you notice that she was also waking up. “Now I'm seeing the consequences of my actions.”

“Yeah...” You agreed, feeling how your body was heavier than usual, making it difficult to move. So you didn't. “I think I'll live here forever, I don't have the energy to get up. Not today, not ever again."

“What time is it?” Nikki whispered, still wrapped in two covers. You didn't even had two covers on your bed the day prior... Where did she find them?

“Hold on...” Mia moved around the bed for a moment before letting herself fall again into the mattress. “Oh God, it's 3 p.m”

The three of you gasped before laughing. Yep, that seemed reasonable.

“We need to eat something or else.” You said after a while, making sure none of them had fallen asleep again. “Are any of you craving some shawarma?”

“Hell yeah.” Nikki said, still wrapped around the covers, but fully awake as far as you could tell.

“Nice, let me grab my phone.” While getting up, you started to see the disaster the three of you caused around the bedroom. Your clothes were everywhere, the bathroom door was fully open and even being far away you could notice that three drunks were there. “Great...”

You didn't have the energy to care for cleaning right now. The bags were strangely safe, carefully placed by your vanity. Priorities. Luckily, all your stuff was still in your purse, which was a miracle of its own. The only strange thing was your phone, which was buzzing like crazy. The battery was almost gone, but you could see the many notifications popping up second after second.

“What the...?” You took it, fearing the worst. “Gio's story...” Now that you thought about it, maybe being posted and tagged on a famous footballer's insta story wasn't the smartest option when you wanted to keep a low profile. “Fuck my life...” While you unlocked it, Nikki and Mia were out of bed, looking at you with curiosity.

“What happened?” Mia said, arching an eyebrow.

“I think I just exposed myself to the world.” You said, gasping when you saw that most of the notifications were from Instagram.

"What do you mean "exposing yourself”? You didn’t post a nude picture, did you?” Nikki questioned, getting out of the covers.

“I think that’ll be easier to fix if that was the case…” You unlocked your phone, trying to calm down and not succumb to the rising panic you were starting to feel.

Tons of notifications were still coming, but you decided to go directly to Instagram and find out what kind of disaster was starting to unfold. Your notifications were up to at least 5.000 only in mentions and following requests. Thank God you kept your IG private. Before your trembling fingers made a mistake, you went to your DMs, which were even worse than the notifications because not only hundreds of people were asking who you were, but also sending you videos and photos. With a deep breath you started to open the recent ones.

“What’s going on? You look pale.” Mia got up from the bed, taking your arm carefully. “Come on, sit before you pass out.”

“I feel like I’m about to…” You sat between the two of them, letting them see your phone screen. They peeked over your shoulders, gasping when they saw the amount of DMs.

Some of the messages were just things like “Are you Gio’s new girlfriend?” or “Are you friends with Gio? Give him my number lmao” while others were worse, not because they were threatening you or anything similar, but because they mentioned Jobe’s twitter photos or that people were sharing videos of you dancing with Gio last night.

You went through some of them, feeling more and more anguished by the minute.

“Is this you with Gio????”

“Oh my god, are you dating both Jobe AND Gio?”

“Are you the same girl from the photos of the twitter threat?”

“You look kinda similar to Jobe’s new girlfriend”

“It’s giving clout chaser”

“Are we seeing the rise of the next WAG?”

“You’re pretty asf”

“Omg, I could swear on my mom I’ve seen you before in Dortmund with Judeeeee”

The last caught your attention more than you wanted. It wasn’t that impossible, since you did go out for walks with Jude after his practice or drive him around town when you were visiting. But back then it was impossible for the few people that saw the two of you together to figure out who you were. Now, with your face out in the open, maybe more people could start recognizing you.

God knows what could happen.

The absolute worst part of all this was people recognizing you from that stupid Twitter threat. You weren’t dating Jobe, but who was going to believe you? It was better to stay silent while figuring out what to do from now on.

“Look, someone’s calling you.” You blinked, coming back to the real world. You didn’t even notice that you spaced out for a bit.

The screen read “Unknown number”

“You take that, I’ll see what’s all this fuss about.” Nikki got up, reaching for her bag.

“I’ll go make us some coffee.” Mia gave you a look that said I’m sorry.

“I’ll help you with that” Nikki almost ran after Mia, giving you that look of sympathy you hated before leaving. The door closed behind them with a click. Now you were alone with this call.

You didn’t know why, but you knew it was Jude.

“Hello?” You picked it up before it went to voicemail, regretting it almost immediately.

“I’ve been calling you all morning! The fuck is happening? Why are you on Gio’s IG?” Yep, that was Jude’s voice.

You didn’t know what you were expecting when the first call after the breakup happened. Feeling excited? Hopeful? Happy? None of that was happening at the moment; you were pissed. Because how dare he call after weeks of silence to confront you about what you did as a single woman?

“Excuse me?” You said, feeling your blood boil. “Why would I give you an explanation?”

“Because you’re my-”

“Your what, Jude?” Your voice remained firm while your heart shattered all over again. Why was he doing this? “Your ex-girlfriend? Yes, I remember. I’m not your problem anymore, why are you calling me?”

“You’re still my friend, you know that” Ouch. “You didn’t even told me you were going out with freaking Gio.” Why was he mad at that?

“And why should I inform you about that?” You wouldn’t admit you just happened to run into Gio yesterday.

"Because now people think you're his fucking girlfriend!"

“So what?! You didn’t let me know when you went out partying and when you made out with some girl a week ago, did you? Do you even care if people assume that's your fucking girlfriend?”

The line fell in an awkward silence for a few seconds. You almost laughed.

“How do you know about that?” At least he didn’t try to deny it.

“Why does it matter?” You avoided answering him. “You’re acting like a hypocrite. Why are you calling me? To make me feel bad about moving on and having fun with my friends, just as you did a week after you broke up with me?”

“That’s not what-”

“You know what? I don’t really care what you are trying to do here. Don’t call me again.” And you hung up.

Before he could call again, you blocked his number. And then, like a wall collapsing, you started to sob and then to cry.

“Fucking prick!” You wanted to throw your phone, but that wasn’t going to make you feel better. You hated him more than ever. And you hated that he had this effect on you.

“Honey! What happened?” Both girls came running into the room, startled by your scream.

“That fucking asshole!” You said, unable to stop your sobs. Were you crying because of how mad you were or because you still felt a little bit of hope about this call being different? “He dared to call me to ask questions about why I was with Gio last night… Like he had any rights to do shit like that.”

Your friends hugged you without saying anything, knowing what you needed right now.

When were you going to get over him?

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joongbin · 10 months

Note

OMG I love that cat reader so much!!!😭 how would skz react to him wearing a spider man suit (for whatever reason you can come up with:))?🕷

➤ HOLY SHIT YOU LOOK GOOD. - SKZ!OT8

꒰ hot, cat like, and probably the most introverted out of all of skz, you. and what do you decide to wear for a live? a spiderman suit that wraps around your body perfectly.

+ pairings: ot8 x 9thmbr!m!reader (not seperate)

× warnings: none. other than everyone simping for you.

# genre: kinda suggestive??

& a/n:: the 3rd cat reader post..

The members walked in with their pajamas, holding their own SKZOO's in their hands. Everyone was there except one person; you. Chan looked around for you silently while the other members conversed.

“ Guys, where's (name)? He isn't here yet and it's been 30 minutes. ” Jisung said, Hyunjin knew the answer to it since he just messaged you, but he wanted the other members to be surprised along with him because you just said 'putting on something'.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, hands trailing down to your abs that were extra defined due to how tight the costume was. You rubbed your biceps, which were also defined as hell.

You sighed, taking a quick few selfies to post on the Instagram account when the lives done. You anxiously open the door before walking towards the room where the live was held.

You turned the knob and smiled at the members, Han screamed and pointed at you, jumping around with a smile. Felix had a shocked face along with a few other members.

A few were shocked with a smile, like Lee Know and Chan. Your cheeks heated up due to embarrassment, looking at them with a sheepish smile on your face.

“ Hey, STAY. ” You spoke up, waving to the camera. The chat quickly filled up with comments simping on you, and you were getting all smiley while reading them through your phone.

You sat down in the middle of everyone, grabbing a pillow and putting it between your legs. You were definitely grabbing everyone's attention with the attire you chose.

The way you would push your hair back whenever it got on your face or even just pushed it aside, or tucking it behind your ear.

Your biceps and abs, and man boobs were also catching everyone's attention, many members couldn't even focus on what each other said because they were paying attention to you, and only you.

Once the live ended, you decided to take a group photo for STAY to screenshot. Once every member left, you told the staff to not shut it off first before walking towards the camera and posed for STAY to screenshot too.

After the live, STAYTok was filled with pictures of you in the spiderman suit, and then a day after that, most STAYs fyp's were filled with you.

You probably made more people question their biases with that surprise.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x y/n #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #bang chan x male reader #lee know x male reader #seo changbin x male reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x male reader #lee felix x male reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x male reader #kpop x male reader #x male y/n #x male reader

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k-evans-reads · 1 year

Text

In Living Color

Chapter 9 - Part One

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 5,271

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

June 2021

Nat reached up blindly to find the pencil she had stuck in her wild curls that were wrangled up in a bun. She had been sitting in this exact same position for hours, pouring over her graphics tablet as she furiously worked in the quiet of her office. Nat could feel the tightness in her shoulders from being hunched over and rolled them slightly as she kept on working, being so focused that it took her a moment to notice her office door had swung open.

“Hey Nat,” she heard Mark say, finally glancing up with an aching neck to see him hovering in the doorway, her metal water bottle in his hand.

“You found my water bottle! I’ve been looking everywhere for that thing,” she smiled, waving him in as she locked the tablet and put it down against the glass desk.

He gave a half-smile, putting the bottle on her desk and informing her, “You left it in my car.”

“Oh yeah, I remember now,” she laughed, shaking her head as she moved the metal bottle closer to her. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Hey, you want to go get lunch together? We could see if Jamie wants to come.”

“Nat…” he began, clearing his throat and pausing, his hands fidgeting awkwardly in front of him. “Have you checked your phone?”

“No, why?” She asked, a frown on her face as she watched her coworker, but most importantly her friend, carefully. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He sighed, shaking his head and suggesting, “I think you should go on Instagram.”

Nat opened her mouth to ask more questions but quickly closed it again when she saw the concerned look on his face. She didn’t have a clue what was going on and wanted answers quickly, but the ones she got weren’t good. She saw how many notifications she had and started scrolling down the long list of follow requests, hundreds of names and profiles she couldn’t even remember flashing before her eyes, causing her to ask out loud, “What’s going on? Why do I have all these follow requests?”

Mark shook his head, glancing away to look out the wide window at the Disney campus. “Remember that party of Chris’ that you told me about?” He finally asked, a single eyebrow raised when he met her eyes again.

Her face fell, and Nat felt as if she was going to get sick at those words. They’d been careful, not posting anything when they were together, or even referencing the other, since they’d met, but especially since Mark’s birthday, when things took a turn for them. She knew Chris’ world and life was… hectic and invasive to say the least, and while she wasn’t accustomed to it, she definitely didn’t want to be thrown into it. But by the look on Mark’s face, she feared the worst had happened. “Oh no…what happened?”

“The catering company posted a photo and you can see some people in the background if you zoom in,” he began with a sigh, then shrugged and shook his head. “Apparently someone did zoom in and saw Chris with his arms around you.”

“But did- how is it… why… how did people know it was me?”

“I guess some fans scrolled through the people he follows and found you and pieced it together. Now it’s all over the internet,” he explained, waving a hand.

Her frown deepened and the anxious ball in her chest grew, but she was unable to think about anything except her surroundings. While it wasn’t against the rules for employees of Disney to date, it definitely was a gray area. Chris wasn’t an employee in the same way she was, he had a temporary pass, and he was on a way different level than she and Mark were. Mark had known about what was going on between the two, but they’d deliberately kept it from Jamie up to this point because of the gray area and her fear of what Jamie’s – the head of character design, her boss – reaction would be, and the aftermath of the revelation. “Does Jamie know?” She finally asked, eyes wide as she looked up at Mark.

The older man shook his head, jaw clenched as he emphasized, “I don’t think that’s important right now, Nat. You’re everywhere online, people are tweeting about you!”

“From just that one picture?”

“It’s Chris Evans, Nat. If he’s got his hands on a girl, people want to know,” he laughed bitterly, but she could tell he was worried, even more than she was able to feel herself right now. She felt like she was unable to process it fully, unable to understand just how this happened, how someone stumbled across the picture and connected the dots given how obscure she was. Most of all though, she felt… exposed by this, realizing just how easily any one of his “fans” could uncover anything when it came to him, when it came to his personal life, despite what he chose to share with them. And it scared her, it made her feel like this would never work given what they’d have to do to keep it to themselves. Never interacting in public, never acknowledging each other, never even being seen together would be the only ways forward, but what kind of relationship did that leave them with? Chris, who’d work and be seen alone, smiling on red carpets and laughing kindly as people flirted with him, and Nat, who’d keep her head down, never shared anything about that part of her life, and only saw him behind closed doors? It wasn’t fair to her, nothing about it was.

“I just don’t understand how this happened,” she quietly admitted, shaking her head before she looked back up at him with wide eyes. “Mark, what am I going to do?”

Mark sighed, looking out the window again as he struggled to find the words. “I wish I had an answer for you,” he finally told her, rubbing a hand down his face frustratedly.

At that moment, her phone started buzzing, making Nat jump slightly before she lifted it up to see the name on the screen, telling her friend, “It’s Chris.”

“I’ll let you guys talk but come to my office when you’re done, okay?”

Nat nodded as she sat in her office chair, waiting for the door to close before she looked down at her vibrating phone again. Usually she was eager to answer his calls, so happy to swipe that green button and hear his voice, but today she felt… anxious. It scared her to think what might be on the other end of this call but she knew that she had to take it.

“Hello?” She answered, her foot tapping the leg of her desk anxiously.

He didn’t even return the greeting, instead asking tensely, “Nat, have you been online?”

“Um, yeah…” she paused, biting her lower lip as she struggled to continue processing this. “Mark just came in and showed me everything.”

“God, I’m so sorry Nat,” he sighed, mumbling a curse to himself. “I just got off the phone with my publicist and she told me everything. She’s calling the caterers right now and having them take the picture down.”

Nat blinked, almost shocked more by the fact that he could make a call and erase it from the internet practically, although the damage was already done. “Okay,” she whispered.

“She’s going to get back to me but they’re either going to just let it die down, or run something else maybe about the movie I’m working on now to try to bury it,” he explained, speaking quickly as he moved around. “Megan did tell me to let you know to keep your Instagram on private and not to accept any new followers.”

“I won’t,” she assured quietly, almost unable to imagine opening herself up to the floodgates of his ‘fans’ like that, letting them see the private pictures from her life and family, something personal. She’d barely given it a second thought when she shared her account info with Chris and approved his follow request, but clearly she should’ve. “There’s literally thousands of new requests.”

“I fuckin’ hate that this happened,” he said, and the tone of his voice was more frustrated than she could ever imagine hearing it before. “My team is going to try to figure out how to minimize everything though.”

“Do I um, like need to do anything?” She asked, picking a piece of lint off her pants anxiously. “I don’t know how all of this works.”

Chris was quiet for a moment, but when she heard him whisper something to someone she realized he was just distracted, not mulling over her words. “Just don’t accept any new followers and once I talk to Megan again, I’ll let you know of anything else,” he instructed hurriedly.

“Okay,” she murmured, jaw set as a wave of frustration washed over her.

“Nat, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she placated, knowing it was an outright lie. “It’s just… overwhelming.”

“I know and I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am,” he murmured, the words doing little to help the situation than…. Anything else would’ve. “But we’ll get it fixed, okay?”

“Alright.”

“Listen, I’ve got to go back to set but I’ll call you later once I talk to Megan again, okay?”

Nat let out an unsteady ‘Okay’ before the call ended and she dropped the phone onto her desk. She brought her hands up to cradle her face in her hands, tears burning at her eyes and she felt completely sick to her stomach. She felt like she’d been in such a bubble for a while, seeming to forget that Chris was famous, someone who’s life was in the spotlight. To him, he was just Chris, the sweet guy who made her laugh like nobody else, sent flowers to her while she was away and had become her best friend and confidant, ending each of her days on the phone with him.

But this was an ugly crash into reality, seeing that something as simple as him putting his arms around her could cause such an uproar. The attention she was suddenly getting scared Nat to her core, not having a clue what would happen from here. This was unlike anything she’d experienced even on the tiniest level, and the shock that came with it rattled her to her core. But almost worse than that was the way Chris had been on the phone.

She was so used to the sensitive man who always kept her feelings close to his heart… which was something she thought was too good to be true. Never had she felt as treasured and valued by a partner before, but her brain was beginning to remind her that maybe it was in fact too good to be true. In the moment she had needed his support the most, he had been distracted and clinical, treating her like a job to manage rather than a woman he cared for. That one simple thought is what made her feel more sick than anything else.

Nat knew she was against the clock though, knowing that with every passing minute she didn’t tell Jamie about this it just gave more fuel to the fire that’d become her romantic life, apparently. Pushing herself up and out of her office, she fiddled with her hands anxiously as she made her way down the hallway, avoiding the unaware gazes of the fellow employees. It wasn’t likely that any of them kept up with what was going on in Chris’ personal life, and certainly hadn’t realized how entwined it’d become with Pixar itself, but she was hyperaware and almost paranoid, feeling they almost pitied her as they caught her out of the corner of their eyes. But she pushed those fears aside as she tapped on Jamie’s door, poking her head in and asking, “Jamie? Do you have a minute?”

He gave her a half-smile, waving her in as he moved to shut the blinds hanging over the glass wall, hiding them – and thankfully Nat’s already teary eyes – from the rest of the office. “I kind of figured you’d be coming in,” he admitted with a short huff.

“Did Mark tell you?” She asked, frowning as she sat on the chair in front of his desk.

“Yeah, he showed me everything that happened,” Jamie explained, sitting down behind the desk and watching Nat carefully. “He said you were on the phone with Chris so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m sorry for all of this,” she rushed to explain herself, feeling awful she’d hidden this part of her life from him for months now, especially given he was one of her best friends. “I didn’t want to tell you about Chris because of him working here… I didn’t know what you would think.”

“Nat, I don’t care about any of that. I’m just concerned about you,” he assured her, looking at her with nothing but concern on his face. “Are you okay?”

She hesitated, looking away from him as she bit her lip and felt tears pool in her eyes. “...I’ve been better,” she confessed.

“Hey, come over here,” Jamie murmured, standing up and motioning to her. She followed his lead easily, stepping into his embrace as tears spilled down her cheeks rapidly, finally releasing all of the anxieties and fears from inside of her. “It’s going to be okay, Nat.”

“I just don’t see how,” she confessed to Jamie, unsure how they’d make their way out of this.

“I’m sure Chris knows how to handle these things,” he reminded her. “And you’ve got Mark and I to fight off any crazy fans or paparazzi.”

Nat shook her head, stepping away from him and carefully wiped her tears. “Remember that I’ve worked out with both of you and the way that you both hit a punching bag doesn’t give me a lot of confidence,” she reminded, unable to stop the slight smirk that settled on her lips.

“Well it’s the sentiment that counts,” Jamie laughed, but then looked at her with a frown. “You’re going to be okay, Nat. We’re going to get you through this and so is Chris.”

But what hurt was that she wasn’t feeling confidence in that last part.

She finally pulled away from him, wiping at her eyes as she gave him a weak smile, “Thanks Jamie… and I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about Chris and I.”

“You hadn’t done the best job of hiding it so I’m not really all that surprised,” he laughed, a smirk on his lips. And Nat found herself realizing just how much had played out in front of both him and Mark over the weeks, between the game nights with the non-stop near flirting between herself and Chris to the way they basically turned his own birthday party into their own first date. “Just remember that I don’t care about any of the other shit, Nat. I just care about you, and so does Mark.”

She frowned, realizing that was what she’d been missing all this time from Chris – the unwavering support that came along with the assurance that everything would be okay, not that this was a blip on a brand rollout’s radar. It felt transactional, not vulnerable and honest in the way it had up to now. “I know, I love you guys,” she smiled, pushing down the doubts so that she wouldn’t snap again in front of Jamie.

“We love you too,” he assured her. “Are you still planning on going home for your niece’s birthday tomorrow?”

Nat nodded, tapping her fingers against her leg. “Yeah, I think so. It might be good to get my mind off of everything anyway,” she shrugged with a fake smile.

“I think it will,” Jamie agreed, then shrugged and laughed and added, “And who knows, by the time you come back to work on Monday, maybe all of this will have blown over.”

Nat sure hoped he was right, but the pit in her stomach told her that he might not be. This was a big deal and she was smart enough to know that it was probably an ever bigger deal than she was fully aware of. She didn’t know his world or what went along with it and for the first time, Nat was seeing just how wildly different their worlds were.

As she trudged back to her office, closing the door and pulling the blinds to give herself some privacy, there were so many emotions stirring in her that Nat felt completely weighed down. Nat felt pulled in so many directions, part of her wanting to hop on her computer and find out what was going on, what was being said and what truly was circulating around the internet, but the other part of her was frozen, just wanting to bury her head in the sand and pretend this wasn’t actually her life.

Tears were stinging at her eyes as she sat at that lonely desk, feeling completely defeated. She was starting to think things were changing, that maybe she wasn’t destined to feel lonely or have people simply tolerate her. Chris had started to show her that he was different. That he liked her for who she was and that everything else didn’t matter. Nat was so afraid to get into another relationship after the hurt she’d been through in the past, but she felt like with Chris, it was worth it.

But she could see that it wasn’t that simple.

She hadn't been so naive as to think nothing would ever get out about them had their relationship continued, but she hadn’t thought it’d be this soon. There was a constant stream of texts from her sisters, presumably finding out what had happened and wanting to talk to her, but Nat just couldn’t, not right now. She tried to get it all out of her head, just push it away as she got back to work but the longer she sat there, the more she realized that the cause of the pit of her stomach wasn’t really what was on the internet, it was what was between her and Chris.

Sure, she was scared, terrified even of what was being posted but deep down she knew what was bothering her more than anything was that conversation with Chris. If he had really talked and listened to her, as they had been almost every single day since he left, she knew that the uneasiness inside her would have faded. All she had wanted from him was the kind of comfort and reassurance that Mark and Jamie had given, showing how much they cared for her, meanwhile Chris had treated her more like a problem that needed to be fixed rather than listened to. Instead of helping her be put back together in a terrifying moment, he had been the cause of yet another way she was falling apart.

Nat ran a hand through her wild curls, trying to push down all these feelings. Ever since she was a child, she could remember feeling everything and feeling it deeply. Being a highly emotional person had proven at moments to be a struggle and caused her to not be able to see things with a level head, but she was doing her best to look at it clearly, realizing that this probably had been jarring for Chris too and that he was probably short because of his limited time. Deep down, she believed that when she talked to him again, it wouldn’t be that way. But when she was walking out of campus and toward the parking garage, she was about to find out that what she was hoping for wouldn’t come true.

He forewent a greeting once she answered the call, instead simply asking her, “Are you still at work?”

Nat ran a hand through her thoroughly-ruined hair, tucking a strand back into the bun as she told him, “I’m just leaving.”

“Okay, well I talked to Megan and we have a plan,” he began, his voice low as he moved around on the other end.

She listened, feeling the anxiety and frustration rise at his insistence on how to handle it professionally, not as her partner. Not as someone who is the actor on the multi-million dollar action movie set in France, but as Chris. The guy who sends her dinner as a surprise, wakes up hours before he needs to and calls her so she can hear his voice before bed, and the one who’d been sending her daily countdowns to when he’d be back in Los Angeles and with her. She missed him, and she didn’t want to have to think about how to handle things while taking into account the millions of fans who over-analyzed every swipe of his thumb on his phone. Her frustration flared as she stood in front of his stupid car, the one she’d been borrowing for a little over a week now while her insurance tried to figure out how to handle the carjacking. “Chris, how do I get in this fucking Tesla again?” She asked almost helplessly, close to tears as she stared inside the car, wanting nothing more than to go home and block the rest of the world out with a bottle of wine.

“Push the back of the door handle and then it’ll pop out.”

She did as he said, thankful when it worked and she slipped inside, adjusting the seat when it automatically set itself for Chris’ settings. “Why can’t this just have a regular door handle like everything else?”

He ignored her, instead typing away at something for a moment as she turned the car on and connected her phone to it. Once she began backing out of her spot, he asked her, “No word on your car yet?”

Nat’s jaw was clenched tightly as she headed towards the exit of the campus, waving vaguely at the security guards as she pulled onto the street. “Not other than the police telling me I probably won’t ever get it back,” she muttered. As if she wasn’t overwhelmed enough, the heartbreak of losing the car she loved so dearly only made the situation worse and caused those tears to blind her vision until she rapidly blinked them back.

“That's probably the least of our concerns right now,” he dismissed her simply, making Nat want to slam a hand against the wheel as she listened to him, wanting to be doing anything but talking about this right now. “I talked to Megan and my team has a plan.”

She stared at the road in front of her as she slowed to a stop at the traffic light, eyes locked on the license plate in front of her. Her blue eyes burned with tears as he reminded her of the elephant in the room, the one she’d sworn had all but been standing on her shoulders all day, weighing her down as her hands itched to open up anything – Google, Instagram, Twitter – and search their names, just to get a hint of what was being said. “Chris… I just really want to go home,” she finally whispered, feeling as though the cord inside of her was about to snap at any moment.

And that’s truly all she wanted. She wanted to just curl up with a blanket and hear his reassuring voice, telling her that it’d be okay and that they’d get through this together. She wanted to hear him acknowledge how hard this was on her instead of treating it like a business deal. She knew that he was used to this stuff, it didn’t shake him the way it shook her and she just wanted him to realize that… to recognize how hard it was on her and that she needed a minute before jumping into some ‘strategy’ for his image. All Nat wanted was for him to show he cared about her and she felt like she was getting everything but that.

“This will just take a minute. I’ll give you the rundown while you’re driving,” he assured her, his voice nearly booming in the otherwise silent car as she steered it through the intersection and merged onto the freeway to head to San Fernando. It was one thing she swore she’d never get used to with his electric car – the silence while driving. And right now, the silence felt too loud. “So the original post is down already and I’m doing an interview for ASP tomorrow so we’re going to promote that and try to get that to the forefront.”

At his persistence, her shoulders slouched, the low-grade headache that’d been bothering her finally began pounding, and her eyes burned. “Okay,” she relented, instantly wishing she’d never done so.

“I’m not going to unfollow you on Instagram because it’ll look too fishy, but here’s what we need you to do,” he paused, waiting until she made a noise of agreement, just to say she heard him. “Megan doesn’t want you to like or interact with any of my posts. Make sure you keep everything private on social media and don’t accept new followers. Oh, do you have Facebook?”

“Yeah but I’m not on it much,” she shook her head, her heart rate increasing as she shifted lanes towards her exit. Wiping away a few stray tears, she admitted to Chris, “I didn’t want Shane to see my stuff so I locked it down a while ago.”

“Good, so keep it that way,” he plainly stated. But Nat felt like she barely even recognized his voice, the normally present emotions were removed and for the first time since he’d left for Europe, she could feel that vast distance between them. It was as if he was reading things off his work checklist, not talking to someone he cared about who’s entire life just got shaken up and he instead just kept rattling off, “Then just make sure to remove anyone following you who isn’t really close to you and obviously don’t say anything about it to people you aren’t close with.”

Nat froze at his words, unable to process it fully. She was thankful that she was close to home, but she was all but furious at his words. He was instructing her – with the advice of someone he paid for, which in itself was something she still couldn’t get used to – to keep quiet. To not tell anyone. And in a few days when she could think rationally, she’d probably admit that it made sense, that it wasn’t extreme given his situation. But to know that this was now the reality of their situation, that they’d hide for months on end either until this happened again and blew any remaining cover… or until it ended them for good. It hurt that they lost their relationship as they knew it, but Nat still struggled with the idea that this was clearly something he was used to… so why didn’t he fucking warn her?

“Did you get all that?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, blinking away the tears and wiping her face furiously as she turned into her apartment complex.

She listened as he let out a sigh before annoyingly pointing out, “You’re not saying much.”

“I got it, Chris,” she repeated, her voice louder and harsher. She navigated into a parking spot, shifting the gears and leaning back against the seat, wanting nothing more than to just hang up and forget this even happened, but with his own frustrated sigh, she was reminded why she couldn’t.

“Are you mad at me?”

Nat knew none of the situation was his fault, but she hated how he handled this. She hated how cold he’d become, how different he was when it turned to his career and she didn’t like it, admitting, “I’m just upset at all of it.”

“Nat, you have to know I didn’t have anything to do with this,” he insisted, wanting to make her roll her eyes. It felt almost patronizing, as if he wanted to just dismiss her feelings because it wasn’t his fault.

She took a deep breath, rubbing a hand on her face before vocalizing her true feelings, “No, I get that. I know you didn’t cause it but you’re not really helping to make it any better.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Chris’ voice sounded incredulous, only heaping on more hurt to Nat’s already bruised emotions when he stated plainly, “I’m doing everything I can.”

“Except ask me how I’m doing! This entire conversation has been like a business transaction,” Nat stood up for herself, honestly telling him what was stirring inside of her and reminded Chris that, “I get that you’re used to things like this but I’m not. My whole life just flipped upside down because I was at a party with you. Do you realize how scary that is?”

“That’s why I’m trying to make this better! Why don’t you understand that?” His words only upset her more with how he completely missed her point and seemed to only look at how this was affecting him.

“I know this is out of your control, Chris. I’m not asking you to fix it, I just wanted you to…” Nat trailed off as the hot tears brimming at her eyes started rolling down her cheeks, her voice cracking when she finished in a voice barely above a whisper, “...care about me.”

“I do!” He insisted, nearly shouting himself. The tone of his voice only brought more tears to Nat’s eyes and she wrapped her arms around herself in self protection and squeezed her eyes shut. “You should be able to see that what I’m doing to try to make this better is because of you!”

He let his words hang, silent and panting after his outburst. She couldn’t believe him, couldn’t believe the way he seemed as though she should thank him for this shitshow, thank him for the thousands of teenagers who suddenly wanted a peek into her life, who didn’t understand boundaries and what private means. She hated it, hated the spotlight he commanded, the world he’d grown to accept. But it didn’t mean she had to.

“Look…” she finally found her voice after a long moment, telling Chris, “I’m going home tomorrow morning for Ella’s birthday and staying in Seattle for the weekend and I think it would be good if I had some time to think.”

“That’s fucking it?”

Nat almost wanted to laugh, completely floored by his response and she plainly stated, “My face just got plastered all over the internet, Chris. I think I deserve some time to think.”

“Fine,” Chris’ tone was so clipped she barely recognized it, but the knife that was already in her heart felt as if it got twisted when he threw out, “I’m going back to Boston for a few weeks after filming. I’ll see you at the end of July, maybe.”

Without more than a scoff, he hung up the phone, leaving Nat to sit in his car, then head up to her apartment, past the cameras he’d paid for, unlock the door with the new lock he had installed, and head into the kitchen… only to see the flowers he’d sent her. Chris. Not the Chris that had been angry, screaming at her on the phone just now, but the one she felt sick over losing. The one she felt like she no longer knew.

A/N: DON'T KILL US! We have part two of this chapter coming on THURSDAY so we hope you'll come back to read it!

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gingerjunhan · 9 months

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somebody else - goo gunil

☆彡 hi besties, this is my first work after coming back to school, so sorry if she isn’t the best. I was really in the mood to write some comforting stuff for Gunil, so I cooked this up. Enjoy :)

word count: 946 | pronouns used: none | genre: hurt comfort, established relationship | cws: reader struggles with self confidence, crying, Gunil calls reader “beautiful”, lmk if I missed any

Another day home alone meant another day of scrolling through social media. You had been on Instagram for probably 30 minutes, scrolling through the comments of your boyfriend’s most recent post and looking at all of the fans.

Today was one of the days where your self confidence wasn’t the best. You’ve been in a slump lately, and today was definitely your worst day in a while. It was probably because Gunil had to go into the studio for a few hours, so you were left alone with your thoughts on a Friday evening when you could’ve been in your boyfriend’s arms instead.

You clicked on another comment under the post you were currently looking at. The profile picture showed a girl who looked to be about your age. She was pretty- all of her features seeming to be the exact opposite of yours. Her profile picture was her at the gym, wearing a cute matching set of workout clothes that showed off her shape well. Despite the fact that she had just finished a workout, she still somehow looked perfect.

I haven’t even thought about going to the gym. You admitted to yourself mentally. Gunil keeps asking me to join him but I keep turning him down. Maybe I should go.

You were so busy wallowing in your own self pity that you didn’t hear the door open. It wasn’t until Gunil greeted you as he walked in the room that you finally noticed him.

“Hey baby, I’m home.” Gunil came and leaned over the couch to plant a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry I took so long today.”

“It’s okay,” you said to him, trying to sound happy to see him. As you looked up at Gunil, you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked.

He was wearing very casual clothing- just a t-shirt and some jeans- but he looked so good. The way his sleeves fell over his shoulders, being just short enough to show off his arms. The fabric of his shirt that tucked itself into his waistband, causing just enough tension in the fabric to show off his toned chest. How he opted to wear his glasses today, which always seemed to amplify his beautiful facial features. He was so handsome, you just couldn’t imagine what a guy like him saw in someone like you.

You must’ve been staring for a little too long, because Gunil took notice of the look that crossed over your face. “(Y/N)? Are you okay, love?”

You shook your head slightly, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? You seem upset.” Gunil finally took a seat next to you, setting a hand on your knee. “What’s the matter?” A brief silence fell over the room as you felt your emotions begin to take over.

“I…” you looked him in the eye, but then quickly looked away. “I don’t understand what you see in me.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but it was still there. You decided to be truthful with him, seeing that your options were to tell him the truth, or lie to him and keep feeling this way.

“What?” Gunil sounded genuinely surprised. “(Y/N), what do you mean?”

“You have so many fans who are so much prettier than me, Gunil. I don’t do anything special, and I’m not very pretty. I don’t see why you don’t just leave me for someone better.”

Genuine sadness washed over Gunil’s face, and you couldn’t help the tears that began to prick at your eyes. “Oh, honey no.” He pulled you into his arms, and you were quick to collapse into him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the crook of his neck. “(Y/N), you’re so beautiful. Who could ever make you think otherwise about yourself?”

You refused to look at him, so you mumbled your reply into his neck. “I’ve seen your fans, Gunil. I’m nothing compared to them.”

Gunil took one of his hands that was wrapped around you and brought it up to start stroking your hair as he felt hot tears hit his skin. You were both holding each other so tightly, as if one of you was going to disappear.

“(Y/N), I love you. You know this. You could be in the middle of a crowd of all my fans, and I’d still look for you. You’re the most beautiful and important person in my life, okay? There’s no way I would choose someone else over you.” He spoke slowly, like he was making sure you heard every word. There was a moment of silence before either of you spoke again. Gunil was supporting you silently as you took a moment to collect yourself. Once you pulled away from him, you could finally look him in the eye.

“I didn’t mean to spring this all on you, I just haven’t been feeling the best lately.” You were once again choosing to be honest with him, knowing that he would support you no matter what. “I guess today was just a bad day.”

“And that’s okay,” Gunil reassured you. “I’ll be here for you through every bad day to help you turn it around.” He cupped your cheek with one of his hands, giving you a feather-light kiss before leaning his forehead on yours. “I love you so much,” he whispered in the space between you. “There’s nobody I’d rather be with than you.”

“Thank you,” you told him softly. “I needed to hear that.”

“I’ll remind you every day if I have to, my love. I don’t want to be with anybody but you.”

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #gunil x reader

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finerllines · 2 years

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love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

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One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. “Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time. Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

“Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting.

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover.

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

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hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

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