#only noticed them cause they reblogged something from me just now when i thought id blocked them akdkdkkcksls

[maxellminidisc]

Seeing this one whitey I used to be close to be absolutely mum about this genocide with the exception of like one post when they used to argue to hell and back with me with their zionist friend's talking points is so lol I see you, I've always seen you...

#also wild seeing them have a post like a few scrolls down like 'so gross when people ship ellie and Joel...at least age her up' #THATS your only problem with it?! this is exactly why i stopped talking to your ass!!!! #only noticed them cause they reblogged something from me just now when i thought id blocked them akdkdkkcksls #like jesus fucking christ white gays are so vile and predictable...

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs

Minor spoilers for Xiao’s and Diluc’s backstory.

Yes, more xiao content. Oh and Diluc. Diluc is there too. I wonder who my favourite child is? Honestly, it’s probably Childe. Every time I write “child” I end up misspelling it to “childe”. It’s consumed me. But yes anon I love the opposites attract trope. It’s so nice having person A be this cute cinnamon roll and person B is the ew don’t touch me go away I hate you, just mwah 💕

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Today’s appreciation post goes to imlikemoony. My entire reblog notifications have just been you and thanks for the spam haha. I love seeing new people go through my work and enjoy it so thank you^^ Please don’t feel like this is a callout post I swear it isn’t 💕💕

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Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ]

Diluc HCs

[ Comfort HCs ] [ Relationship HCs ] [ Being Fathers HCs ] [ Jealously HCs ] [ Unrequited Love HCs ] [ String of Fate [Soulmate] ]  [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @youaskedfurret @snowy224 @mayumintsu​ @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav

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Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs

Xiao

It occurs to Xiao one day that despite being alive for centuries, he doesn’t know a lot of people. Xiao has only known Rex Lapis and his fellow adepti and only just recently introduced this life to others such as Verr and Ming. It never bothered him and still doesn’t, he prefers his life to be peaceful and in solitude since it’s safer that way, but when you crash into his life with all your unrestrained energy. He’s a bit of a loss for words. The only other person he knows that acts similar is Guizhong, but it’s still a bit of a troubling memory but either then that, he’s never interacted with someone so...open with their feelings. Though he supposes that Hu Tao was somewhat similar but in a different way. Unlike the craziness and exasperated actions that Hu Tao brought, your presence was a breath of fresh air and sometimes he found himself caught up in your antics.

When Xiao thinks about it, if he were to ever find love he suspected he would prefer someone who was calm and independent. He wasn’t the most affectionate so he wouldn’t want a partner that relied on that and he liked the peace and quiet the inn provided. That was until he saved you one day and you felt it was your absolute responsibility to return the favour, even though he told you many times that you really did not need to. If you wanted to return the favour you could leave him alone. Simple as that. Which didn’t work and in hindsight he was glad you were so stubborn to hang around until you managed to find out his favourite food was almond tofu.

The moment that set in stone Xiao’s love for you is when he told you his past. When he was named Atalus. How he had been possessed and forced to kill against his will. How he devoured dreams and lived in agony before he was saved by Rex Lapis. He was scared that you would fear and leave him, only for you to slowly lace your hands with his and wept for his own misfortune. He’s never had someone cry for him and he realized that he never wanted to see you upset like this again.

At first your larger than life personality put him off a bit, how could someone run through life as if nothing was wrong? What would happen if you finally faced loss? Wouldn’t that make things worse? It wasn’t until he spent more time with you that he saw your point of view, that while he couldn’t adopt the same idea, he respected it and began to appreciate it. It was nice having some sort of solace in his day even if it was just for a few minutes. Something to get his mind of the darker things while you start chatting about this really nice old lady with a domain sized teapot.  

Though, there was a bit of a downside to this. Since you bared your heart on your sleeve, perhaps in Mondstadt it would seem normal but here in Liyue, everyone hid behind some kind of mask so people found you a bit naïve and would try and hassle you. It always sent Xiao into a worried state when you left the inn to go out on your next adventure. Verr likes to compare him to a cat waiting for it’s owner at the door, but as soon as they return he acts so moody as if he wasn’t waiting at the balcony trying to see if he could see your clothing peak over the hill. He has no idea how she comes up with these ridiculous ideas.

Another “downside” Xiao discovers is that you have mini bursts of affection. You describe it as a those anemo slimes that pop when you shoot them, morbid as that description is, you’re not wrong. Your bursts of affection always manage to startle and embarrass Xiao, especially when he was with others. He wasn’t going to tell you to change yourself, never will he do that, but when you clasp his hands and tell him with all your love and shining eyes that he’s “doing such a good job” and “you’re so proud of him”. He wants to melt because wow, he never noticed how much he values your praise and how it sends his heart flying. But he can’t because Childe and Zhongli are right there.

Zhongli smiles pleasantly while Childe looses his absolute shit, which causes Xiao to kick his spear at Childe because he refuses to let go of your hands and hisses at him. Even when you try and scold him it doesn’t last long because this has become a weekly occurrence. Only now Xiao will give you a quick kiss before he goes off to gut Childe while you and Zhongli wave pleasantly and talk about how the weather is faring. Everyone that isn’t a native to Liyue think’s you’re all insane as they hear Childe’s screams as Xiao attempts first degree murder.

It interesting to see you both interact to outsiders. Xiao has his piercing yellow eyes and reserved demeanor while you’re this sweet and bright person. Before Xiao met you, people could never get a good look at the mysterious man that stays in the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn. But now if they came at the right time, they could spot a soft smiled man in green listening to a very animated talk with someone else, using their hands with a dramatic flair. That is until the man notices them trying to eavesdrop and the softness in his eyes drops and goes to irritation as he glares at them, curling a hand around his partner’s waist, and he let’s off a warning growl. His partner never seems bothered, only turning around to give a small wave in greeting, smiling as if the dangerous aura radiating behind them didn’t exist, before giving the man a small kiss as they go back to their conversation.

While you live a larger than life way, you also enjoy the small moments with Xiao. Xiao prefers to spend his time sitting above the inn and overlooking Liyue which you enjoy too. Resting near each other as you watch the sun go down is calming and takes the stress of life away. But sometimes you just want to bring Xiao out and have some fun.

Which ends up with you dragging him off to the pond near the Wangshuu inn, you wanted to catch frogs for whatever reason. Weren’t you both a bit too old to be playing with frogs? But he stands by and watch's you chase around the poor animals, tracking mud all over your clothing and skin, he can’t help but let a small smile slip. It isn’t until you end up falling into the pond after slipping that he’s on alert mode that he runs over worried.

Only for you to pop up and start bursting out into laughter. Xiao is stunned for a few moment as he watches you laugh at your own mistake, mud scrapped all over your face and clothes, the fact that you’re still in the pond with a frog on your head. He can’t help but feel his face fall as his mouth twitches into a smile as he chuckles along with you. He reaches over to try and scrub the dirt off your face but it only ends up smearing it more but you appreciate the effort. He carefully lifts you up as he carries you back to the inn. He thinks back to when you both first met, how he spent so much time worrying over his life as an adeptis and you as a human, but now those thoughts have been flung out of his mind. He wants to take your approach, that why worry over the little details of the future when you can enjoy the bigger moments you have now.

Diluc

On days that Diluc works as the bartender for Angel Share, if you come at just the right time when the sun was still high in the sky, you might be able to catch the ever distant man smiling and engaged with a conversation with one specific patron. Of course, this silly “rumour” was made up by the ladies of Mondstadt with too much free time on their hands but given Diluc’s reputation and demeanor it did make some travelers curious. Only for them to write it off as this special patron to be a green bard or cunning captain. One that Diluc surely did not crack a smile at. In fact it seemed to be the opposite. But the tavern isn’t so bad, there’s this nice individual that will listen to all your sorrows with kind eyes and a gentle heart.  

As soon as the last customer leaves and Diluc locks the door, does he let his shoulder drop and he breathes a sigh of relief. Before turning and walking to you as he let’s himself relax in your embrace. He listens as you re-tell on the woes of a jewelry saleswoman from Liyue to how Venti is still getting ID checked at the Cat’s Tail as he basks in your warmth. He’s glad that this is what’s troubling the people of Mondstadt and not anything incredibly dangerous relating to the Fatui or the Abyss Order. He asks if you’re doing alright to which you grin and nod that everything was perfect, before placing a small kiss on your forehead and he leads you out back and into the night and ready to return home.

Kaeya finds a lot of enjoyment going to up to you and discussing his “concerns” about Diluc. It always leads to you fretting over his health and if he was working too hard and he should take a break. Diluc is whipped and cannot say no to you so he always begrudgingly let’s you lead him away as Kaeya smiles and waves him off. It’s gotten to the point that no matter what Diluc is in the middle of, unless it’s of the upmost importance, if he catches Kaeya anywhere near you he’s swooping in and leading you away.

Diluc has always been straight to the point, non-nonsense idle talk, but when you drag him away to simply lie down at Starsnatch Cliff just because you were worried about him, he can’t help but feel his heart warm. Watching you blow on dandelions and enjoy the peaceful winds of Mondstadt does he let his hectic life standstill. 

When Diluc first met you, it was during his three year long journey to discover the truth of his father and the Delusions. You had saved him during his escape from a Fatui stronghold and explained you were apart of a third-party observer from the North. A vast underground intelligence network that approved of his actions and wanted him to join. Diluc, still deep in his anger and untrustworthy state of anyone, declined the offer but you still hanged around him. He didn’t understand why, and frankly did not want you anywhere near him, but you did save him. Something you very much liked to bring up, even after returning to Mondstadt. He couldn’t necessarily push you away and despite leaving the Knights of Favonius, he still maintained the same chivalry that all knights had.

From then on it had just been the two of you, him looking for the next Fatui base while you travelled with him as an “observer” despite helping him and being overly chatty. Asking where the next destination is like you’re some sort of overeager kid. At first, he really disliked your presence. A lot. In his mind you were a second Kaeya and after the events of what had happened, he might have been far colder to you than he should have been. He thought you were hiding behind the same kind of mask Kaeya did and that you were secretly some Fatui agent sent to kill him. But that never seemed to deter you, even making fun of the idea that the Fatui would seriously try and send an agent to con him rather than try and kill him outright with all the information he had on them.

You both had your clashes when it came to certain things, especially when it came to taking breaks and sightseeing. He felt that you were way too relaxed for something so important and you felt he was way to uptight and needed to stop running through life. But overtime, he found that he actually somewhat enjoyed your personality and quirks. While you could kick a Fatui’s guard head off if you tried hard enough, you would also drag him to feed the ducks by a pond. He had come to learn that you and Kaeya were different, you didn’t wear a mask and bared your heart to the world. He thought you were a bit foolish for doing that since you can never really trust anyone but you instead offered that not everyone was a bad person, that if he spent every waking moment trying to backstab someone would that really be a life worth living?

It’s during the lantern festival in Liyue does he really come to understand his goals in life. Writing down wishes for the new year to send off in paper lanterns is when he acknowledges his shortcomings and finally agrees to join the underground intelligence network. You offer him a bright grin as you cheer that he finally finally got off his stubborn self and you’re now officially partners in not-really-but-still-technically crime. For the first time since Diluc started his journey, he gives a small smile and let’s himself relax as he watched the golden lanterns fly through the sky beside you.

When he decides it’s time to return to Mondstadt and take up his position as Diluc Ragnvindr, he tries to not so subtly ask if you would want to join him. He knows that you still have ties to that secret organization and you probably have your own agenda but Diluc has gotten used to your bubbly personality, he doesn’t want to live without you. But his worries are quickly squashed when you tease him for a bit but slip your hand in his and ask where the next destination is. 

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Gripping my writing hand, I went overboard and ran with it. I really want to write pre-hcs of how you met Xiao and a continuation of young Diluc and you. But I must finish my inbox.  Also my joke of Xiao beating things into submission started all the way back to my first Xiao HCs of friendship. I did not know this lol. I just think it’s funny to imagine xiao doing it. I’m about to high five my past self.

By the way, should I break up my hcs more? I feel like they are actual paragraphs and that might be annoying to read.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin xiao #genshin xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x lumine #xiao x aether #xiao headcanons #xiao imagines #genshin diluc #genshin diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x lumine #diluc x aether #diluc headcanons #diluc imagines

[thefanficmonster]

Lucky Me (Sequel To Unlucky)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You aren’t always born with luck. Sometimes, you meet people who bring it to you. In short, they are your lucky charm.

Requested: Yes, but not in a typical way. A big thank you to all the wonderful people who read, liked, reblogged and commented on part one - Unlucky.  

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  and many more ❤❤❤

They are the reason this story is being written. What was originally supposed to be an elaborate one-shot turned into the most liked piece I’ve ever written. I can’t thank you enough, guys. You are amazing and I hope you like this one just as much or even more than the previous. Love you ❤❤❤

Y/N’s POV

I’m grinning at my reflection in the mirror as I put on a pair of earrings. My face is already touched-up with a little make-up and my hair is looking on point. I can almost see my own reflection in the shine of excitement in my eyes. I take in my upper body via a quick once-over in the full body mirror opposite me, and I finally relax my muscles that I didn’t ever realize I was tensing.

“OK, now I’m ready.“ I say as a form of encouragement as I reach behind me for my phone that’s sitting on my bed.

You might be wondering where I’m going? Who I’m going with? What’s the occasion behind this many preparations and pampering?

The answer: Nowhere. No one. Nothing. I’m literally not even going to leave my house.

It might seem ridiculous to someone else, but to me, to my hypnotized mind, it’s perfectly reasonable to be getting so amped up over a FaceTime call. Yeah, you heard me correctly - a FaceTime call. 

Well, you see, this isn’t the first time we FaceTime, but it will be the first time we’ll see each other’s faces. I wanted to level the field so I didn’t let him on to what I look like, where exactly I live, etc. Basically, he only knows my name, which I am still prepared to call unfair, considering I don’t know his real name. 

A brief backstory to my first ever real interaction with Corpse: I was introduced to him by my friends. They are the ones I always turned to with all the scary shit happening in my life. Often times they didn’t know weather to comfort me or laugh at my curse. My friends suggested I start sharing it to a youtuber named Corpse Husband. You see, I love YouTube narrators and I’ve always been a fan of Mr. Nightmare and I, to be perfectly honest, always kept the idea of sending him my stories in the back of my mind. Nevertheless, I bit the bullet and checked out on of this Corpse Husband guy’s videos. And then another. And another. And before I knew it I was having a marathon after which I was too paranoid to get online, walk home alone at night, leave my curtains open etc. It wasn’t all thanks to the stories themselves. A lot of the fear factor these stories strike with should be credited to the way they are read. Let me tell you, this guy had it all figured out with the reading. Not sending him my stories would just be wrong. So I did, I sent him my first ever creepy encounter which was with a stalker from my high school and it took me only two days to forget about it. It only crossed my mind when my friends blew my phone up, demanding I watched Corpse’s new video. I kid you not, I got more scared by the story when he read it than when I lived it. That’s what settled it for me - I decided to send him each and every story.

And then one day, out of the blue, my life changed for the better in more ways than one. It got turned completely upside down, like a rollercoaster, and I just had to hold on and enjoy the ride, embrace the adrenaline rush and excitement, knowing full well that I chose to get on and there’s no way I can get off halfway through. 

I’m being too metaphorical. He sent me an email. He freaking reached out to me. And I was posed with a rough choice. Took me a minute, but I chose to reply to him, I chose to trust him, and I couldn’t just leave him on read one day simply cause I chickened out. Yes, I’m unlucky and these things don’t happen to unlucky people. I mean, they do, but they are nightmares disguised as a dream come true. I’ve lived all my life cautiously: if something sounds too good to be true it’s either not as good as marketed or not true at all. If it’s dark and late and there are no people around, FaceTime someone. If your Uber driver’s sketchy, cancel the ride. I take all the precautions and I still find myself in the worst situations. Or at least...

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my phone. A simple ringtone I hear every time he calls me. A simple sound that causes me butterflies when I hear it and ultimate devastation if the caller ID doesn’t read the name I want. It always gets me excited, probably more than it should. This time is different, however. It’s scary almost. I’m nervous, anxious, scared, hesitant - all things I never feel when I’m about to answer his call. 

With shaky hands I pick up the call and find myself looking at the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Now I know why I would have never initiated this meeting, because I know what color my face is right now. I know my voice has let me down before I even attempt to speak. I know I look like a mess. I know my obvious crush is showing.

Corpse initiated this meeting. He said he was getting too curious and he wanted one of his best friends to see him and for him to finally see her. It’s been about seven months since we first started texting and I haven’t let out a single peep about it to a single soul. It’s just between him and I. We are each other’s safe space away from the rest of the world.

“Thought you weren’t gonna pick up for a second there.“ His voice is not as confident as other times when we’ve talked. His trying to hide his own nervousness and all I wanna do is hug him and tell him he doesn’t have to. I kept telling him over and over again that we don’t have to do this if he’s not sure that he actually wants it. I even offered to show him what I look like, not expecting to see him in return but he declined, saying it was now his turn to even the field.

“I was in another room.“ I manage to say, my voice only shaking a little.

We spend a few moments just looking at each other. Admiring one another. For someone who prefers digital interaction, I am surprised to realize I wish he was actually standing in front of. I wish I could hug him. A long hug of comfort, mutual understanding and hidden feelings.

He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head which causes a few strands of hair to fall over his eyepatch, “I’m sorry...It’s just-...Fuck I’m stumbling.” He chuckles nervously, “I just...can’t believe you are real. You are a real person. And the most beautiful person I’ve seen. That’s corny, isn’t it.” He looks away from the screen, his face now a shade of red. “But I mean it. I’m embracing my corniness. You are beautiful, Y/N. Not that I’m flexing or anything, but I’m lucky to have met you.”

I laugh, feeling my eyes stinging from the tears that have suddenly formed. I don’t want to let them fall, but I don’t have much say in that. “Well, mister Corpse, I can’t begin to compare. I mean...that hair! I still cannot believe it’s you. You are not just a deep voice in my mind. You are....you are...”

“Everything you imagined and more?“ he jokes, making my whole body heat up. “I told you you could trust. I mean, if the hair doesn’t confirm I’m who I say I am, I don’t know what will.”

“Actually, I never tried to imagine what you looked like. I knew those visions...I knew they didn’t matter. Faces don’t matter to us, Corpse. I think you realize that.“

And just like that, all I’ve been keeping hidden is pouring out. I don’t try to stop it - you can’t stop a hurricane with bare hands.

“I never needed a face to imagine us. I always saw as talking on the phone, playing Among Us. Reading scary stories to each other on Discord. I never needed a face to imagine your company. To imagine what we could be...“ I trail off, letting the first tear slip down my cheek.

The most sincere look appears in his eyes, “Fuck, I wish I could hold your hand right now. Never mind, I wish I could hug you, Y/N. Hug you and not let go for a long time.”

I laugh halfheartedly, my chest burning from the intensity of this moment’s intimacy, “I can always tell you where I live.” I’m only half-joking. I really want to see him in real life, not just through a screen, but even this call is out of his comfort zone, let alone a physical meet up.

He surprises me yet again, “Saturday. I’ll bring the take out, you pick the movie.” he says with a smile that is literally saying ‘you didn’t see that coming, did you?’

“How are you sure I don’t live in a different state, or a different continent all together?“ I tease, making an attempt to put my composure back together.

He smirks, “I pay way more attention to your stories than you’d think.” I laugh, shaking my head as a pointless method of fighting the pesky tears that he has 100% noticed by this point. “By the way, just because we’re....” he thinks for a second, “in a weird zone between friendship and...something more, doesn’t mean you have to stop sending me stories. I absolutely love reading them for my audience. They love em too.”

I just realized I am yet to tell him the crazy miracle that has happened. “Well, the thing is...I don’t have any.” His eyebrows shoot up in shock which makes me laugh, “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. Since the day we started talking I have not experienced a single scary thing. Deadass. I swear on my life.”

If I wasn’t so head over heels for this man already, the baffled expression on his face would definitely send me falling for him. He’s just that adorable. “Wow.”

“I know right.“ I nod, “Seems to me you have enough luck to share with me.“

His eyes light up at that comment, showing just how meaning full it is to him.

“You’re my lucky charm, Corpse.“

“I will never be more proud of any other title, Y/N. That I can promise you with no hesitation.“

“Deadass?“

“Deadass.“

#corpsehusband #corpse husband #corpse simp #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse #husband #x reader #reader #reader insert #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x reader #request #requests open #love #fanfiction #fanfic #corpse fanfiction #among us #e girls are ruining my life #unlucky

[let-me-write-shit]

You writing is soo cool, you're amazing! I don't know if you are taking requests, but what about a famous Y/N and meets professor Harry and he is like "I don't want to teach you, you are famous" and she is like "you are going to teach me and fall in love with me😏" and well, idk the idea just came to my mind and I thought of you to write it hahaha. Love your writing, keep doing it 'cause you are great!

 Word Count: 9,443 LONG AS SHIIIIT

WARNING: FILTHY SMUT!!!!!!!! (I put ******** before and after the smut so you can skip if you’d like

A/N: Thank you SOO much to @mylittleangel9403 for this request and I’m SOOOO sorry it took so long. Turned out a lot longer than I anticipated. Not sure if you wanted this to be smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself. Also, shoutout to @gwenlovesharrystyles for the help on this imagine! Much appreciated!!Enjoy!

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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CLICK HERE TO READ OTHER COMPLETED STORIES

Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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Professor Styles

“Ma’am, respectfully, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Harry leaned forward in his chair, fingertips pressed together, aware of the large presence that sat beside him, his voice almost a whisper. “We’re already several classes deep, and as you know, my class is very difficult. She’ll be at a disadvantage going in, not to mention the students already in my class. The distraction isn’t fair for them.”

“Professor Styles, I don’t need to tell you how much this means to our University. I understand your concern, and I have every faith in you to help miss Y/L/N catch up to speed and keep your students in-check.”

He could feel the eyes of the famous singer on him as she uncrossed her legs and sat straighter in her chair. In his peripheral, he could see her burly manager, who stood in the back against a wall, take a step closer behind them like a bodyguard waiting to pounce. But for some reason, Harry had the distinct impression that Y/N could do without protection. He thought she was tough enough.

“Sir,” Y/N spoke softly and respectfully. Harry turned, seeing a reflection of yellow in her eyes as the sun shone through the window onto them, and he couldn’t help but think she was putting on an act for the Dean. “I know that the circumstances are...unusual. But, I promise I will do everything in my power to not cause any distraction in your class. I’ll sit in the back if that helps. Whatever it takes.”

The young professor took a deep breath, taking in her words. He looked around the room in thought, feeling everyone’s attention on him all the while. Some of the rumors about her seemed to ring true. Y/N had this energy about her that made it difficult to focus or think straight. She hardly took her eyes off of him throughout this entire meeting.

Harry sighed in defeat and nodded, “Alright. I trust she’ll be given the syllabus and information on everything she’ll need for my class?” he asked the Dean.

But before the Dean could respond, Y/N chirped, “I’ve already gotten it and I’m prepared to start next week.”

“Well, that’s settled, then,” the Dean grinned, victoriously, “Welcome to our school, Miss Y/L/N. Unless you have any more questions, you are free to go.”

Y/N stood up with a smile, followed by the Dean and professor. She stuck out a hand and shook them, saying, “Thank you so much. I look forward to starting on Tuesday.”

Her burly manager opened the door for her and she began to make her way out. And as Harry collected his things to leave, the Dean quipped, “Oh, Professor Styles. Before you head to your next class, I’d like to speak to you for a moment.”

Harry watched as Y/N closed the door behind her, almost certain he saw a wink, before setting his things back down and taking a seat once more. He listened as the Dean encouraged him to do all that he can to ensure Y/N had a good experience here, explaining how big of a deal this was and how Y/N taking his class might encourage more students to enroll.

Harry listened, respectfully, but wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes. It annoyed him that he was expected to baby Y/N and bend to her will solely because she was a rich and famous singer, and he refused to play a part in that. If she wanted success in his class, she would need to earn it just like the rest of his students.

When they finished their conversation, he was already running late for his next class. Again, he collected his things and made his way out of the office. As he speed-walked through the administration, he was surprised to see Y/N still there, sat on a chair beside her burly manager, talking. When she noticed him, she instantly jumped to her feet and raced up to him.

“Hey,” she said, simply, keeping his pace as they continued out of the administration building and into the main campus.

“I’m running late to my next class, Miss Y/L/N. Did you have a question, or can this wait?”

Her voice was so flippant that it bordered arrogance, “Just wanted to thank you again for letting me join your class this late into the semester.”

“It’s not me you should thank. I don’t agree with it and I won’t baby you. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you start reading your books so you’re not lost in my next class. Your classmates have worked hard to get to where they are and I’d hate for you to be the reason for a halt in their progress.”

“I think you’ll find that not to be the case.”

She was so smug that it caught him off guard. The looming of her large manager two paces behind him as they hustled down the walkway was even more noticeable now, along with the many whispers and stares as they continued. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, perplexed.

He debated whether to ask, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness or that he’d entertain her malarky. But his curiosity got the better of him.

“Miss Y/L/N, why are you taking my class?”

“Why not?” she smirked in response.

He sighed, annoyed that he was even going along with this, “We both know you don’t need to go to school, especially for Advanced Musical Theory. Why are you only taking my class?”

Her voice was softer and more sincere this time as she spoke, “I’ve always been interested in Music Theory and wanted to take it before my career kicked off. And I heard you were one of the best teachers in your field.”

For a split second, in that moment of sincerity, he thought he might have just seen her, the real her, behind all the fame and money and act. But her innocence faltered as she quickly shuffled in front of him, making Harry fumble to a stop.

Her eyes were more seductive now as she hushed, “Besides, I heard about how hot you were and I needed to see it for myself. And I’m not disappointed,” she looked at him through her eyelashes.

Harry could feel the warmth rise to his cheeks, extremely aware of her manager’s presence behind him and the few students nearby, staring. He was sure his face was bright red right now as Y/N’s smirk only seemed to grow.

Harry was aware of his reputation around campus for being the ‘hot teacher’. He wasn’t a stranger to the gossip or the occasional student trying to make a pass at him. And, honestly, his ego enjoyed it. But he’d never crossed that line with a student before and she would be no exception.

He did his best to compose himself and continued past her, Y/N following behind, “I’ll ignore that and just give you fair warning,” he started, “My class is hard and you will not be given special treatment just because you’re famous. I promised the dean I’d get you caught up, and I will. Your class is every Tuesday, and you can meet me in my office after each lesson for an hour for the next few weeks until we get you up-to-date on what you’ve missed. I will not play into your games.”

“Yes, Sir,” she pouted, teasingly, and again, jumped in front of him, holding a hand out and smiling, “Looking forward to next Tuesday.”

Harry looked at her suspiciously, pausing for a moment before ultimately giving in and taking her hand in his. But before he could respond, she pulled herself closer to him. So close that she was practically whispering in his ear.

“But just to warn you, not only will I ace your class, but by the end of the semester, I’ll make you call in love with me.”

Her breath was so hot and her words were so unexpected that he stood there, stunned, while she pulled away, winked, and walked back towards her bodyguard, heading back from where they just came from. She waved to a few students that recognized her, and she looked back once to blow a discreet kiss before she rounded a corner and was out of sight.

Harry watched after her, stunned at her assertiveness while people were watching. But he shook it off and continued to his class, mentally preparing himself to break the news to his students.

The anxiety in the week leading up to the start of Y/N’s first official day in Professor Styles’ class was becoming more frequently accompanied by the Dean’s constant checking in on him to make sure everything was ready, more students visiting or showing up to class, and even more excited whispers. Harry, on the other hand, did his best to push it aside, not getting what all the fuss was about.

He had done his best to prepare his students for their newly joined classmate, even sending out mass reminder emails to those in his class to please be courteous and warning them to avoid distraction. But when he pulled up to the school that day, he noticed more students than normal just hanging around, scanning all over campus like they were scouting for something.

Harry quickly realized that they were waiting to catch a glimpse at the famous singer and he snorted, rolling his eyes. Kids were so predictable. He slipped his lanyard with his ID around his neck, grabbed hold of his coffee and briefcase, and got out of his car, heading towards his classroom.

The Professor smiled and nodded at the students that greeted him in the hallway, proud that he knew each of them by name, continuing to his class. He knew his students would already be there, by now. Harry was usually always a few minutes late and he assumed that it gave his students more than enough time to ogle their new addition to the class.

But, when Harry rounded the corner and saw Y/N leaning up against the wall, arms crossed and alone, his nerves increased.

“Harry,” Y/N beamed when she spotted him, practically skipping over to him.

Harry raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat, “It’s Professor Styles,” he warned, earning a sarcastic nod while he continued, “Why are you not in class?”

“I thought we could go in together since I’m new.”

“I’m your professor, not your babysitter. Go on in next time,” he said as they approached the door. Before turning the knob, he paused and faced her, “While you’re here, I’ll explain to you what I explained to them on the first day. I’m a pretty easy-going teacher because I know how hard this class can be. You can eat in my class, you can have your phones out, you can come in wearing pajamas, I don’t care. However, the biggest rule in my class is that you treat people with kindness. We do not judge in this class. We don’t interrupt people or talk over others, we don’t make others feel inferior. My class is a safe space for people to be their authentic selves and we respect that. Can you do that?”

Y/N’s stance softened and she grinned, nodding, “Yes. I can do that.”

“Good,” Harry nodded, “I’d like you to take a seat towards the back of the class for today if you don’t mind. I’d rather they pay attention to me than the back of your head.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” Y/N exaggerated his title, her lips twitching up in a lopsided smile.

He looked down at her for a moment, narrowing his eyes, trying to size her up, before he gave in and turned the knob to his class. The buzz from his students loudly chattering amongst each other instantly stopped when he walked in, closely followed by the singer. Harry vaguely noticed that not only was every single one of his students present, but they all looked slightly more put-together than normal. He snorted under his breath, dropping his briefcase on his desk, taking a sip from his coffee cup, and placing that down, as well.

“Morning!” He called out, earning a chorus of greetings in return. He gestured towards Y/N who was making her way up the steps towards the back of the class, “I’m sure you all know who this is. We are incredibly lucky to welcome Y/N in joining us this year.”

Y/N stopped climbing the steps to smile brightly and wave obscurely at everyone, “Hi!”

Harry nodded towards her to keep moving. She rolled her eyes, playfully, and continued while he explained, “I know we’re all excited to have her here, but I want to remind everyone that while we’re in the room, we’re all students, and that includes Y/N. Let’s all focus on what we’re here for, so we don’t get lost when mid-terms get here, yeah?”

After another muttering of agreeance, Harry noticed Y/N getting settled in the back and he nodded, starting the lecture, “Okay, what I’d like to do is a one-minute warm-up on today’s exploration on duple and triple meter. So, I need everyone to stand up.”

The rustling of chairs echoed and screeched as students got to their feet. Soon, they were marching along to Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles, everyone laughing and feet stomping on the ground. He felt proud, seeing all the smiling, attentive faces in his direction and happy that throughout the lesson, nearly everyone had seemed to grasp everything that he was saying.

But, each time he glanced up in Y/N’s direction, he noticed that not only had she not even so much as picked up a pencil or opened her laptop, she had not looked away from him even once. He made a mental note to reprimand her after class and continued on.

When the lesson came to an end, Harry thanked the class for their cooperation and the students began to pack up their belongings. He watched as Y/N was met by a group of kids who were considered to be more ‘popular’ around campus. He saw her friendly smiles, but could barely hear her over the noise.

Once Harry managed to gather his things and toss his now-empty coffee cup in the trash, he approached the group, earning a pleasant round of hello’s by the students. One of the girls, Jesse, made sure to bat her eyelashes a little more and lean closer than necessary as she spoke.

“Great lesson today, Professor Styles. I did have a few questions about musical texture and was wondering if we could meet privately so I could get some more clarity on that?” she asked, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

Harry was used to Jesse’s incessant attempts at flirting with him and getting him alone, but he never took the bait, “I’m sorry, Jesse, I have no free office hours available, right now. But please shoot me an email with all of your questions and I’ll gladly help you out.” He heard sniggering from her friends as her face shifted into disappointment and he turned to Y/N, “Miss Y/L/N, when you’re done here, please meet me in my office so I can get you caught up.”

“Yes, Professor, I’ll be right there.”

He waited twenty minutes before he finally heard a knock on the door. He had half a mind to ignore it and let her stand out there, annoyed that he was wasting time trying to help an entitled celebrity who clearly had no interest in his class. What was the point? But, he thought back to the Dean, and reluctantly made his way to the door.

“Your students seem to really like you,” she confidently walked in, taking a seat on top of his desk and tossing her bag on one of the chairs, crossing her legs. “Especially that girl, what’s her name? Jesse?”

Harry blinked and slightly shook her head back before closing the door and rounding the desk she sat on towards his chair, not bothering to give the statement a response. But that didn’t stop her from continuing, “She’s like, in love with you. Well, maybe not in love. But you definitely make her horny.”

“Y/N!” You shoot back at the brassiness.

“She’s hot, I’ll give her that. But she’s definitely got that ‘daddy money’ vibe to her. She and her friends invited me to a party next weekend. And that kid, Mark, gave me his number. He’s pretty hot, too. Looks like some kind of jock.”

Harry nodded, shuffling his papers, “He’s here on a full-ride soccer scholarship.”

“Damn, I’m good,” Y/N leaned back, pressing her palms flat against the top of his desk, impressed with herself.

Harry looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. He wished he could say that her confidence astounded him, but honestly, he wasn’t that surprised. He could hazard a guess that her success was probably all handed to her. She joked about another student being given ‘daddy’s money’, but if he had to guess, she was probably the same.

He set the stack of papers down beside where she sat on his desk and looked up at her with a sigh, “Miss Y/L/N, my desk is not a chair. Please have a seat.”

She slithered down off the desk and plopped in a chair opposite him, scooting it closer and crossing her arms on the top, waiting for him to speak.

He relaxed his shoulders and continued, “You didn’t participate much in class today.”

“Well, you told me not to be a distraction.”

“Yes, but you’re still a part of the class. I expect more participation from you in the next class. And that includes note-taking. You won’t pass my class from memory. For now, I need to get you caught up.

Harry spent the next hour trying to get her caught up on the very first day of his class, which she interrupted every ten minutes, or so, going off-topic or asking very personal questions like ‘do you have a girlfriend?’ or ‘how many students have you been with?’ None of which he answered. When there were about ten minutes left in their time together, Y/N interrupted for the eighth time that hour and Harry groaned, unsure that she had retained any of the information he had provided her so far.

“What made you want to do this? Teach Musical Theory?”

He looked up at her and paused for a moment and she stared at him, her head cocked to the side. She looked genuinely interested, and it wasn’t often that he got asked these questions. He decided he’d entertain her, just this once.

Harry slid the paperwork away from him and sat back in his seat, “I’ve just always been interested in music since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, so have I. That’s why I became a musician. There are so many jobs in the musical field, why music theory?”

“Well, I am a musician. Not as big as you, obviously, but I have a small band and we play gigs around town. But the more I deep dove into music and the history behind it, the more I got into musical theory. It was a hobby and a passion before it was a career. And I guess I just wanted to show people how fun and interesting it could be.”

Y/N nodded, seeming content with his answer before saying, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good teacher.”

“You’ve only been in one class,” he chuckled, sitting up again and straightening out his papers once more.

She giggled, “Yes, but it doesn’t take long to know when a teacher is good or not. I see the way you interact with your students and hear the way they talk about you. Everyone seems to love you. It’s part of the reason why I chose to come here.”

“My reputation precedes me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” she grinned, before softly speaking, “You know, we’re not all that different, you and I. I’ve been passionate about music for as long as I remember,” she laughed and said, “I remember when I was seven years old my mom took me to the library and I must have read at least six books, cover to cover, about Chopin. I knew everything about him and even named my pet rabbit after him. Everyone thought I was crazy.”

“Classical music?” Harry questioned, surprised.

She nodded, sitting up, “I’ve played piano since I was two.”

Harry pursed his lips, nodding his head, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

They stared at each other for a moment, silence filling the room. She looked more innocuous now; harmless as she sat with one leg crossed over the other. By this small conversation she had, she could see bits of himself in her eyes and it made him bring his guard down. For a moment, he was fascinated.

But her expression changed, more curious, as she asked, “So, how many lucky girls get the chance to have this one-on-one time with hottie Professor Styles?”

Harry sighed, rubbing his temples, “You exhaust me.”

“Or guys, I’m not judging,” she shrugged, “Though that would totally suck for Jesse. She’s really crushing.”

“I’ve never dated a student and I never will,” he said blandly.

“Never say never,” she smirked, “Why not?”

“Because they’re kids and it’s inappropriate.”

“Kids?” she snorted, “You’re barely four years older than most of your students. And everyone is of legal age.”

“I am not having this conversation with you,” he said, packing his things, “Our time is up. I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She grinned, gathering her things together and following him towards the door. As he reached for the door handle, she quickly put a hand on top of his, stopping him from turning it and making him look down at her as she said, “Don’t forget, Professor. Never say never.”

He watched as she opened the door and slipped out, turning her head once to wink back at him before she rounded a corner.

Harry found himself nervous and somehow anxious for the following week to arrive. It was the first time for years he had gotten there before any of his students. Every time the door opened and a student arrived, surprised by his early presence, he noticed he would jump and whip his head in the direction of the door. He tried to tell himself that he was just jittery or had too much coffee this morning, but he knew that wasn’t the reason.

When Y/N walked through the door, he felt his heart start to race.

“Good morning, Professor,” she smirked at him as she made her way up the steps towards the back of the class.

He nodded but didn’t respond. He felt stupid for not knowing what to say. There were so many options; hi, hello, how are you? Nothing. Harry watched out of the corner of her eye as she made a dramatic show of pulling out a notebook and a pen, sitting back in her chair and propping her legs up on the desk, making her short skirt slip up her thigh even more, waiting while she tapped her pen on the paper while the other arm was crossed over her stomach and her thumb grazed against her mouth.

He shook his head, pretending to search his briefcase for something as more students started to arrive, annoyed at himself for letting her get to him. In his four years of teaching, this had never been a problem before. How was she doing it?

Y/N waved as the group of kids she was seen talking to at the end of the last class squeezed in and they all excitedly waved back, making their way back to the seats in the row in front of her, spinning in their seats to talk. He wondered what they were talking about each time he saw her laugh or look down at him and hold eye contact.

The lecture started smoothly. He had them do another goofy exercise to get them ready for the class and was able to keep everyone’s attention as he explained notes and scales. Harry noticed the singer scribbling down in her notebook and was relieved to see she was taking notes this time. But what shocked him, even more, was her participation. The Professor, although known to make teaching and learning fun, was also known to ask a lot of hard questions throughout the class. Most, of which, the students rarely knew the answers to. That’s why he was surprised to see Y/N’s hand raised after nearly every question he asked, and even more taken back when her answers were right. Every single time.

Students began to become amused, automatically looking in between the two when a question would arise, and giggling at the incredulous expression on his face when she had, yet again, gotten the answer right. If he didn’t know any better, he would bet that by next week the class would turn it into some kind of a drinking game. He could have sworn he saw Y/N giggle under her breath and even blow a kiss.

After class, once again, Y/N was grouped on the steps by the rows of desks with Jesse, Mark, and their other friends. Y/N would twirl her hair and smile towards Mark and seemed to have him wrapped around her finger, but Harry also noticed how she’d look over Mark’s shoulder at him and bite her lip. She knew he’d be watching, and he hated himself for it.

Quickly, he packed his things and left the room, heading to his office to wait for her there, wondering what they were talking about. He closed the office door behind him, tossed his briefcase on the floor beside the paper shredder, and decided against turning the lights on. He blamed it on a splitting migraine, but it was really because there were too many intrusive thoughts running through his mind that he was doing everything he could to ease it, including pacing the room.

The attempts, however futile, were short lived. Minutes later there was a soft knock on the door and Y/N emerged, closing the door behind her, strutting right past him, and plopping on top of his desk again.

“How was that for participation, Harry?” she asked, propping a foot on the arm of his chair which made her skirt shimmy up her thigh just enough that if he were to look, he was sure he’d be able to see what she was wearing underneath.

He took a gulp and fought hard not to look down, lightly pushing her leg off of the arm of his chair so that both of her legs now hung down, taking a seat and crossing his arms, “It’s Professor Styles, and you did very well in class today, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Told you that I’d be a good student,” but her smile turned devilish as she spread her legs apart further and bent down closer to him, “But I can be bad if you’d like.”

“Please get off my desk and take a seat, Y/N. We’ve still got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Whatever you say, Professor,” she exaggerated, slowly slipping off of his desk and rounding to the other side.

Again, Harry tried his best to catch her up on lessons she missed, but it hardly seemed to get anywhere with Y/N’s constant interruption of inconsequential questions and arbitrary thoughts that seemed to almost pour out of her mouth without thought. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath a few times. She wasn’t boring, he’ll give her that much.

The more she fought against his attempts at teaching her, the more he realized that they weren’t going to get anywhere unless he gave her a little of what she wanted. So when she asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” he sighed and ran his finger through his hair, giving in.

“No, I don’t. And why do you insist on coming to these meetings if you aren’t going to pay attention?”

“I am paying attention. You were talking about themes and motives of the piano and violin in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony,” she said, confidently, crossing her arms, “I just think that it would be easier to come to class and learn if I knew my teacher a little better.”

He rolled his eyes at this attempt, but a smile crept on his face anyway, “What do you want to know?”

She smiled, sitting up, eagerly, “Well, it’s good to know you’re single. When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

He sighed, uncertain why he was even taking part in this conversation, “A little over a year.”

“And you haven’t tried again since?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been busy.”

“Or you were heartbroken.”

The response stung a little. She was right. And that annoyed him even more. How did she do this? Get under his skin so easily? Instead of answering that, he retorted with, “Well, what about you? You’re obviously single, otherwise, you wouldn’t be flirting so much with your professor or the soccer star.”

Her smirk stretched wider, “Oh, are we jealous of Mike?”

He scoffed, grabbing the few pieces of paper off of his desk and attempting to organize it in the side filing cabinet, “No, I’m not jealous of a student.”

“Mhmm. Well, for your information we were just talking about the party they’re having this weekend.”

He tried his best to look confused, although he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that party since she mentioned it last week, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, it’s on Saturday. Not sure if I’m going yet. I’m sure my manager and PR would have my head if I was caught getting sloppy at a college party. Not good for the image,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.

He shrugged, “College parties aren’t all that great, anyway.”

“I’m sure,” she said sarcastically, “Anyway, I have a concert the night before, so I’m usually exhausted by the next day. You should come.”

“To your concert?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, skeptically, “Unless you don’t like my music?”

Harry shrugged, “I haven’t really heard much of it,” he lied, “but my sister’s a big fan.”

“Well, I’ll put you down for a plus-one. As long as it’s just your sister.”

Harry felt a lump beginning to form in his throat and he shook his head, “I already have plans for Friday. But thanks, anyway.”

She shook her head, nonchalantly, “Well, offer still stands if your plans fall through.”

He tried his best to reroute the conversation back on topic and was thankful that she seemed to finally go along with it. But as it neared the end of the hour, he felt her eyes on his face more and more. He looked up in the middle of his sentence and froze when he saw her eyes on his. She seemed entranced and almost out of it. And something seemed to pull him into the same trance as her.

It was the first good look at her that he had gotten since their first meeting. Her skin looked soft and her eyes sparkled when the sun’s rays shone on them at just the right angle. He hadn’t noticed until now that the bridge of her nose was slightly elongated and somehow endearing. And her lips. Those lips.

Y/N shook her head and stood up. It was the first time that she seemed to be caught off guard, and that stroked his ego a bit. He glanced down at his watch and noticed that they had run overtime and he gasped. She seemed to realize, too. Hurriedly, they both began to collect their things, but in the frenzy, she accidentally flicked her pen off the desk and it ricocheted on his side, landing on the floor near his briefcase.

“Oh!” he heard her mutter, rounding the desk where they both hastily attempted to grab it.

Harry was the first to grab it and as they both stood up, they were face to face with each other, inches away. They froze, again, unable to move. He saw something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before; nervousness. Y/N was always such a confident force, and to see her any less than that admittedly made him gratified, like he had obtained a victory. But he, himself, was losing the battle. She was breaking him down one wink at a time, and he had never felt so weak in his life.

He could feel the strain of his desire pulling him closer towards her, the gloss on her lips looked enticing. If no one stopped him soon, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off much longer. He saw her eyes begin to flutter shut as the gap between them closed. Her sweet, minty breath swirled in front of his lips, he could almost taste it. And then a loud knock on the door echoed around his office.

Y/N flew against the wall while Harry awkwardly knocked his elbow against the back filing cabinet just as Jesse haughtily belted into the room. Her wide smile slowly screwed up into trepidation at the awkward tension that filled the room as the professor and singer avoided eye contact with each other.

“Jesse!” Harry quickly spoke, “What can I help you with?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be finished. I just had a few questions about the essay, but I can just email you.”

“No, no, it’s fine, come in. Y/N was just on her way out.”

“Okay, cool,” Jesse smiled, stepping in further and placing her things on the chair opposite his desk.

Harry watched as the two girls exchanged friendly smiles, but he could see the slight embarrassment behind Y/N’s as she made her way towards the door.

“Don’t forget about this weekend!” Jesse called out after her, “I’ve never seen Mark so excited for a party before.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N faked a laugh, sharing one last concerned look with Harry before closing the door behind her on the way out.

All week he found himself analyzing all of the occurrences that led up to him and Y/N almost kissing. He debated his sentiments, trying to logic every feeling of vulnerability and affection away with a simple explanation. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pay attention to his work, constantly stumbling over his words of forgetting what he was talking about. When his class ended early on Friday afternoon and he sat in silence in his apartment, he stared at the blank television screen, contemplating whether or not he should take up her offer to attend her concert.

He paced the floor, opened and closed the fridge, tried to scroll through his social media apps, or read a book, anything to keep her mind off of her. He picked his phone up and stared at the home screen for a few minutes, constantly unlocking it when it got dark. With a final sigh, he opened it once more and dialed a number, putting it up to her ear.

“Hello, ya nimrod. What’s going on?” He heard his sister’s voice ring through the other end.

“How do you feel about going to a Y/N Y/L/N concert tonight?”

“You serious? Tonight? Bloody hell, yeah, I’ll go!”

“I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

Time only seemed to drag for Harry, left with nothing but his thoughts. It was enough time to go back and forth on whether or not he was making the right decision. Ultimately, he decided to go. He had already invited Gemma and he would feel guilty for bailing after getting her hopes up.

The sun was beginning to set and Gemma was singing loudly to Y/N’s lyrics in the passenger seat beside him. His palms were sweaty, gripped tight against the steering wheel. As the song ended, Gemma turned the volume down and turned to her younger brother.

“How did you get Y/N Y/L/N tickets, anyway? I didn’t know you listened to her like that.”

“I don’t, really. I mean, I’ve heard a few songs. But she’s my student and invited us to come.”

“She’s your student?” Gemma laughed, amused, “Cut the shit, Harry. How? Did you win them on the radio or something?”

“I’m serious. She’s taking my class.”

“What?” Gemma gasped, “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t think to.”

“You didn’t think to tell me that one of my favorite singers is a student of yours?” Gemma clarified. Eyebrows furrowed, she sat back and huffed, “Some brother you are.”

“Hey, now! I’m bringing you to her concert, aren’t I?”

The walk up to the ticket booth was one of the most humiliating things he had ever experienced as he uncomfortably explained who he was and that he was invited by the singer, herself. It took two people and a member of her staff to vouch for him before he and his sister were escorted through the venue and entered the pain event area through a private entrance that led them towards a VIP barricade towards the front of the stage. Thousands of screaming fans surrounded them, and Gemma looked around, shocked at the scene.

“This is insane!” Gemma shouted in his ear, bouncing on the balls of her toes.

Harry had to admit, it was pretty cool to see all of these people here for Y/N. He felt a sort of pride for her that he wasn’t quite expecting. And it didn’t take long for the lights to dim and the music to start.

He heard her before he saw her, and he felt his heart start to race again. He tried to play it off by the screams and the thumping bass, but when she finally came into view, he felt like he had been bolted to the floor, unable to move or talk or even smile. He was just stunned. Seeing her on stage was surreal. He knew of her, first, but it was hard for him to dissociate ‘student’ Y/N from ‘famous’ Y/N.

When they caught eyes and she realized he had come, a smile stretched across her face behind the microphone. He couldn’t help but mirror her, his shoulders relaxing as he managed a gentle wave. She walked closer to them on the stage, singing down at them, and he could hear his sister repeating ‘Oh my god, oh my god’ beside him as Y/N waved back in their direction.

Y/N was talented, there was no denying it. And the way that she interacted with her fans, you could tell that she was grateful for every second of it. It was touching. She was knocking down his assumptions about her little bit by little bit. He always thought that she’d be a spoiled, ungrateful celebrity, but that seemed to be completely false.

By the end of the concert, he had eased up and began to jump around, goofily, with his sister while Y/N watched, dancing around on stage, laughing and singing. Finally, the burly manager he had seen on the first day of their meeting with the Dean had approached him and his sister, informing them that they were invited backstage and to follow him.

His nerves began to rise in his chest again as they wove down several corridors until eventually, they stood before a door with Y/N’s name taped on it. The manager knocked loudly and waited a moment before they heard her voice on the other side call out, “Come in!”

With a turn of the knob, Y/N was now seen. She was in a new, more casual change of clothes and her hair was now up, but with visible beads of sweat lining her forehead and neck, she took a long swig of water.

“Hi!” she called, capping her drink and beckoning the two in, “Come in, come in! I’m so glad you came!”

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” Gemma tip-toed closer to her, smiling coyly as the door was closed behind them.

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Y/N grinned, giving Gemma a much-wanted hug, “Please tell me you’re Harry’s sister.”

“Yes, I’m Gemma, his older sister.”

“Oh, thank god. I was worried he’d bring a date,” Y/N said, boldly, “He’s been playing hard-to-get.”

“You’re interested in my brother?” Gemma asked, astounded, “You’re way out of his league.”

Harry’s mouth fell open as Y/N laughed, “Yeah, and you’d think that’d be enough for him, wouldn’t you? But apparently he’s got standards,” she hyperbolized, rolling her eyes.

For an hour, Harry watched and laughed as Y/N and his sister talked and got to know each other more. They made jokes at his expense, and exchanged stories from their childhoods, shocked by how similar they seemed.

“You grew up around here, right?” Gemma asked the singer, taking a sip from her second beer of the night.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, about fifteen minutes from here.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing the only residential area in a fifteen-mile radius wasn’t exactly known to be the best neighborhood. Y/N seemed to gather his thoughts, further explaining, “It wasn’t always easy. My siblings and I were cramped in a two bedroom apartment and we didn’t have our own phones until well into our teens. I missed out on a lot growing up, but my parents did their best. We had everything we needed. I was lucky to be able to get all this and get them out of that apartment. My parents deserved a big house and a yard. I owed them that much.”

“How did you do it? How did you get to this point?” Harry asked, astounded.

Y/N shrugged, “Right place, right time. I was found singing at the mall for a small gig at a Christmas event. The rest is hard work and history.”

Harry shook his head, speechless. He felt guilty for passing judgment on her before, assuming that it was all handed to her and that she had got her start because of her parents' connections. She was self-made, smart, and deserving of every bit of success that came her way.

After one more round of beers, it was getting time for them to leave. Harry could see the excitement in her sister’s eyes start to be replaced by fatigue, and as much as he wanted to stay and talk some more, he knew he had to get a jump start on grading papers.

He set his empty bottle of beer down and Y/N frowned, “Time to go?”

“Yeah, should probably head out,” Harry nodded, pausing for a moment and taking in the frown on her face. He didn’t have time to think before he blurted out, “Want to join us for the ride?”

Her eyebrows raised and her lips twitched up into a smile, “Yeah, sure.”

Gemma let Y/N take the passenger seat and Harry felt tense as he drove, hand shifting the gears right beside her leg. He smiled every time he heard her laugh, though he couldn’t quite pay attention to what the girls were talking about. He was able to gather that they exchanged phone numbers before he reached Gemma’s house. His sister gave them both kisses on the cheek before bounding up the steps to her home.

The silence was deafening and Harry was certain she could hear him gulp as he turned to her and asked, “Where to?”

He knew what she was going to say. He didn’t need to ask. But to hear it come out of her mouth was something almost too much to handle, “Your place.”

He reversed out of the driveway, barely croaking out, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she asked, turning towards him.

“You’re still my student.”

“So? We can just talk.”

Harry turned and looked at her, giving her a knowing look, “You know it’s not to just talk.”

“Why can’t it be? You don’t have any self-restraint? Is it because you like me?”

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he fumbled out a, “No.”

“Well then, what’s the problem?”

“......Fine.”

There wasn’t another word uttered for the rest of the journey to his place and he began to overthink. Was his apartment clean? Had he done the dishes? How messy was his room? Did it smell? He knew he should have gotten that diffuser from the store last week.

His nerves rose as he led her up to his apartment complex, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights, breathing a sigh of relief to see that it was, for the most part, fairly tidy. Y/N walked past him, scanning the scene, and as he locked the door he also held his breath, waiting for her to say something.

“Nice view,” she noted, briefly looking out of the window before turning to face him.

He tossed his keys on the entry table and motioned towards the kitchen to his left, “Drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Tea? Coffee? Water?”

“Water’s fine,” she said, making her way towards his living room.

He took the moment to catch his breath, trying to regain control of his thoughts before joining Y/N on his couch, handing her the drink. They both took a swig and he felt her eyes bearing holes into him, again.

When he set his drink down, he turned to her, “You’re very intense, you know.”

She smirked, leaning into the couch some more, “Yeah. I just know what I want.”

“And what’s that.”

“You.”

The immediate response caught him off-guard, but he wasn’t surprised by the answer. At this point, he knew exactly what she wanted, and was only feeding his ego more. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by her and hadn’t thought about the same, but a part of him liked the chase.

He chuckled, sitting back, “You’re my student.”

She moved closer to him, more energetic this time, “I just happen to be into Musical Theory, that’s all.”

“You’re still my student,” he grinned, amused, patting her leg.

“So, what if I drop out? Would that change anything?”

Harry’s grin faded and his hand stayed where it was, resting on her thigh. He stared into her shining eyes again, seeing the seriousness behind them, and he froze, unsure of what to say. Would it change anything if she dropped out of his class? He wasn’t sure it would even need to come to that if she kept looking at him like that any longer.

His eyes flickered from her eyes, to her lips, and back up to her eyes as she waited for a response. He debated whether or not to just give in and kiss her right there. She wanted it, he wanted it, why keep fighting it? There weren’t any rules against relationships with students at his University, not like they’d even fight him on this one; they’re the ones that basically told him to give her everything she wanted.

But when he didn’t respond, Y/N pulled back away. He slumped, kicking himself for not pulling a move sooner. And after a moment of silence, she asked, “Hey, is it okay if I use your shower, real quick? I’m still sweaty from the show and I feel gross. I can take an uber home afterward.”

A million thoughts ran through his mind. Was that a move? Or an invite? Should he ask to join her? Why did she have to leave? He could drive her home, she didn’t need to take an Uber. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

He showed her to the bathroom and went to grab her a towel from the linen closet as she adjusted the knobs and stuck her hand under the flow of water, gauging the temperature. By the time he got back in, she seemed happy with the warmth of the flow and took her hair out of its bun, placing the hair tie on the edge of his sink. He hung the grey towel on the rack beside the shower.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he muttered.

She smiled, “Thanks,” and before he was fully out of the room, she began to pull at the ends of her shirt. Quickly, he scurried out of the bathroom and closed the door to give her privacy.

Once out, his hands shot up to his forehead and he crouched, mumbling to himself a frustrated, “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you? Idiot!”

He sat impatiently on his couch, waiting for her to finish. When he heard the screech of the knobs turning and the pressure from the water fade, he shifted his position and quickly forced his attention elsewhere, trying to act casual. But when he heard the creak of the door opening, he turned his attention to see Y/N standing in the doorway, bathroom light glowing behind her, hair rang out and damp, clutching the towel around her body.

His eyes widened a bit as she spoke, “Do you have clothes I can borrow? Mine are still covered in sweat.”

“Uh, yeah, probably. In my room,” he stammered, getting to his feet and leading the way to his bedroom.

She followed, her feet lightly padding the wood floors. He felt almost embarrassed to have her in his bedroom. He wasn’t sure why, it’s not like it was dirty and he didn’t have anything oddities displayed, still, it was an intimate space, and to have her there felt personal.

He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser where he kept his pajamas and motioned towards it, standing up straight, “You can borrow anything from here.”

She bent down in front of him to rummage through, giving him a better look at her back. It looked clean, soft, and supple as droplets of water still lined her back and dripped from the ends of her hair, getting absorbed by the thin white towel she had wrapped around her. When she stood up, he took a step back and she turned, holding one of his oversized white t-shirts and a pair of his plaid pajama pants.

He stood there, unable to move as she stared at him, raising an eyebrow. And still, as she tossed the clothes on the bed behind him, he found himself, once again, rooted to the spot. A smirk started to form on her face and her voice was soft and playful as she spoke.

“How’s that self-restraint going?” she teased.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her. And when her playful smile began to shift into something more alluring, he held his breath, watching as she untucked the towel around her chest and let it fall to the ground. His eyes instantly dropped to her exposed chest and he felt his heartbeat pounding rapidly in his chest as she stepped closer to him, barely twelve inches, refusing to take her eyes off of his.

“I know you want to,” she whispered, stroking his arms before taking hold of his hands, lifting them and placing them on her chest, “Touch me.”

He felt his erection becoming uncomfortable as he ran out of room in his pants for growth, massaging her chest. His attention roamed back up, locking eyes with her again. There was no stopping it.

************************************************** In a bout of passion, they threw themselves at each other, hungrily attaching their lips to one another, tongues circling and roaming the other’s mouth. Y/N tore fabric after fabric off of him as they spun, grabbing at each other roughly and without deliberation. Soon, they were both naked and knocking into walls and tripping over clothes.

Harry pushed her up against the dresser as she grabbed hold of his dick, pumping her hands up and down his shaft as he moaned into her mouth.

“Does that feel good, Professor?” she bit his lip with a smile.

“Ungh,” he grunted, pulling away. He spun her around so that her back was to his chest, and forced her down to bend over his dresser, propping one of her legs up on the top of it before he got to his knees, burying his face in her muff.

She cried out, “Yes! Teach me, Professor!”

He flicked his tongue inside of her, lapping up all of her juices while he rubbed himself. He could have kept going for hours, but he could feel her legs start to tremble. When he stood up, he slapped his cock on her ass a couple of times, swiping his tip against her entrance enough to get it lubricated before slipping right into her.

Y/N threw her head back, breathing, “Oh my god, you feel so good, Harry.”

He wrapped an arm around her neck while his other hand clasped over her mouth as he grunted, “Professor Styles,” before sucking on her shoulder blade.

When he loosened his hand from her mouth to take hold of her hip, she whined, “I’m so sorry, Professor Styles. I’m not always bad.”

“No, Y/N,” he pulled out of her, spinning her to face him, tempting her as he walked backwards towards his bed, “You’re my good girl.”

The back of his legs hit his bed and he scooched himself back, letting her climb over top of him, straddling his hips. She bent down, biting his lip again as she lowered herself onto him, gasping as her cunt swallowed him up.

She leaned back, letting him get a better look at her, breasts jumping up and down along with her. He ran a hand from her cleavage down to her navel, grazing her soft skin and watching as her mouth formed an ‘o’, scrunching up her eyebrows in pleasure as she called out his name.

“That’s a good girl,” he breathed, an arm behind his head as he watched, “Make me cum.”

She rode him faster, breathing heavier as he continued to grunt, propping himself up now and suckling on her skin. Her breaths became more shallow and her movements more rigid as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing herself onto him even harder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her down onto him, even more, to go deeper. He could feel her throbbing around him, which only made him more aroused.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he breathed, “Cum on my dick.”

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and with three more pumps she let out a scream as she said, “Pro-fessor Styles!”

He smirked, quickly flipping her on her back and pumping harder and faster into her as her legs wrapped around his waist. She panted, squeaking as he grunted into her. He looked into her eyes which were full of lust as she stared back into him and he could feel himself start to build up. Even faster now, knowing he was about to finish, he smashed his lips down on her quickly before pulling out and squirting his jizz on her stomach, letting her rub out every last drop.

*******************************************

He collapsed on the bed beside her as they panted, trying to catch their breath before he got the strength to reach down and grab his shirt for them to clean up the mess.

When he turned to face her, she smirked, “Do I need to drop your class? Or can we fuck in your office next time?”

He let out a breathy laugh and mumbled, “That depends. Are you going to the party with Mark tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to?” she retorted.

With a deep breath, Harry shimmied closer to her, nuzzling his head into her chest which made her wrap her arms around him, running her fingers through her hair as he whimpered, “No.”

She laughed, kissing his curly brown locks, “Told you I’d make you fall in love with me.”

------------------------------------

Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwenlovesharrystyles , @harryswinterberries, @gucciboots, @golden-grande, @ilovedogs1989 @f4llingfairy

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #Professor! Harry #Harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction smut

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 3

a/n: we love a little throwback with this gif, my heart 😭 again, i can’t thank you all enough for the love you’ve shown my writing it’s truly the sweetest thing and i’m happy you guys are liking the story so far! this was is the longest part so far with a lot happening, so happy reading! remember to leave some feedback and reblog cause it’s always appreciated.

and as always, thanks to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles​ and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles​ for beta reading ❤️

word count: 19k

warnings: mentions of a partner cheating (f*** mark), minor mention of drugs (aka weed lol), alcohol consumption (tequila anyone?), and serious! sexual! tense!

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

Y/N didn’t realize she had left Harry’s apartment the other day with his hoodie on until the next morning when she had woken up to the sweet smell of faint lavender and laundry soap. She didn’t return the hoodie, though. In fact, she shamelessly slept in the hoodie for three more nights; it was just really comfortable, she tries to convince herself that’s the only reason she’s wearing it to bed each night. It wasn’t because the smell that calmed her, reminding her of that dimpled smile and dazzling green eyes that would wander into her dreams every night now and then. And it was especially not because she found herself falling for those same pair of eyes, no, not a shred of feelings besides friendship there.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Sammy deadpans.

“What are you talking about now?” Y/N questions, keeping her eyes on her phone as she texts back Harry.

“You and your little affair,” Sammy quips back. His choice of words causes Y/N’s head to quickly snap up and look at her friend. He’s giving her a bored look, a smug little smile on his face that makes Y/N narrow her eyes.

“I am not having an affair, Sammy, so let’s not start that rumour around the office, please,” Y/N says to him in a hushed voice. “Plus, Mark hasn’t bothered to call or text me in almost a week now. So, I’m pretty sure the next time we do talk it will be to end things officially,” Y/N explains, her voice falling flat as she feels her heart rate pick up just thinking of her and Mark breaking up. Regardless of the fact he’s hurt her feelings, annoyed her and so on - it’s still a break up, and they really freaking suck.

“I sure hope so,” Sammy says. “You know I’m team Harry all the way,” he gives Y/N a wicked smile which she only rolls her eyes at.

There were no teams to be on, she thinks. She was just becoming friends with Harry, and yeah, she found him ridiculously attractive and really sweet too, but she wasn’t dumping Mark for him or anything. If she was dumping Mark it was because of how their relationship turned out, without Harry’s help, and how neither of them are benefitting from being together anymore. Hell, they didn’t even have sex last time he was in the city. It also didn’t have to do with the fact that Y/N would be nervous that Harry could hear them. Nope that thought didn’t cross her mind not even once - Y/N finds herself biting on her bottom lip as she’s deep in thought and trying to convince herself certain things.

Her phone buzzes where she left it on her desk brings her back to reality. She picks it up and swipes up as the face ID recognizes her, opening up the messages, between her and Harry, that she was previously on. Y/N can’t help it as a chuckle leaves her lips. She notices how Sammy leans back in his chair and raises a brow at her, but she chooses to ignore him and instead keeps watching the gif Harry sent on loop over and over again.

It was a cartoon Santa, dabbing. Yes, Harry used a gif that had to do with a trend from the world's youth. Y/N never would have guessed Harry even knew what dabbing was. She holds back another chuckle and looks up a gif to respond to his. She goes for one that’s a cartoon of Rudolph, his nose lighting up like a strobe light as he dances on two legs. It’s silly, but she’s enjoying this back and forth texting of stupid Christmas themed gifs. It’s been going on for about five minutes and she doesn’t even know why or how it started, but she loves it.

How’s work so far today? Harry texts after sending a gif of the Olaf the snowman from Frozen, dancing in the field of flowers. Y/N tilts her head to the side and leans further back in her seat, stretching her legs under her desk. The work that was on her desk was long forgotten when her and Harry began texting earlier.

It’s good, I finally have a few moments of downtime at my desk. We had like four clients in this morning for some fittings for the many Christmas parties going on next week. Y/N sends that off before typing, How’s your day? Write anything good yet?

Glad it’s less busy now, don’t let me distract you with all these amazing Christmas gifs though. And I’ve got a few things written while at the cafe, finally found the right melody for another song I was working on last week. Harry types out to Y/N, biting on the nail of his thumb after hitting send. He’s been leaning on the guitar in his lap for the past twenty minutes. That melody was found, but pushed away after he got into texting Y/N.

Not too distracting, although I think Sammy is jealous no one’s sending him any silly gifs. A second text shows up only seconds later, Harry’s sometimes surprised at how fast Y/N can type. And that’s good though! Will I ever get to hear you play in person besides through the wall our apartments share?

Harry smiles over his thumb at the first text but then is biting at his nail again as he reads over the second bubble a few times. He isn’t too surprised that she can hear him play from her apartment, but he is surprised she’s asking to hear him play. He doesn’t think he’s all that great of a guitar player. It’s kind of hard to think when he’s best mates with one of the best guitar players in the industry; Mitch could outplay him any day. Harry stops biting on his nail and hovers his thumbs over his keyboard. Although he’s usually too nervous to just sit and play for someone, he finds himself imagining playing for Y/N.

Tell Sammy I’ll send him some gifs too if he wants. And as for playing for you, maybe... if you catch me on a good day. Y/N shakes her head at his response, somehow not too shocked that’s what he says. She recalls him not telling her what popular songs he had written, how his cheeks grew a shade of pink at the mere idea of Y/N knowing of his work. So, she’ll take her odds and pray that someday soon she gets Harry on a good day and hears him play something.

“Y/N,” Amanda’s voice calling her name causes Y/N to jump, sitting straight up in her seat and nearly dropping her phone. She shuts off the screen and feels the vibration from her Apple watch, a notification reading that it was time to head into the conference room to interview new interns with Amanda. Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Amanda standing behind her with her eyebrows raised and her lifeline of a notebook in hand. “You alright?” She asks, slight concern in her tone.

“Yeah,” Y/N clears her throat and stands from her desk, wobbling on her heeled boots as she gathers up her laptop and cell phone. “I’m all good, ready to find us some new interns,” she states with a smile.

Amanda gives her a look as if doubting her, but then nods as Y/N steps in front of her and they move into the conference room. It’s not until their third candidate that Y/N thought of her boyfriend. Her watch buzzes, flashing up at text from Mark, then one from Sammy right away. She ignores them and tries to focus on listening to yet another fashion student talk about their love for the industry and the company. She was once just like them, sitting on the other side of this conference table and grinning ear to ear from just being in the building. She still felt excited to come into work every day and she feels very grateful to still feel that way. So, therefore she doesn’t hate sitting there for a few hours and having a handful of first impressions with girls that she once was. But, in the back of her mind she’s wondering what Mark could have texted her. It’s been five days since the phone call she ended up hanging up on him. What could he possibly have to say?

“Thank you for coming in today,” Amanda says with a smile to their last interview of the day. The small blonde stands up as the two of them do, and reaches across the table to shake both of their hands before saying short goodbyes and letting one of the receptionists walk them out.

“I think I liked her the best,” Y/N comments, writing a quick note beside her resume.

“I agree. We’ll email back and forth a bit more about it. I’ve got another phone meeting with a few clients for the new year first,” Amanda explains as she’s reading over her planner before snapping it shut.

“Sounds like fun,” Y/N nods before walking separate ways from Amanda and heading back to her desk. As she gets closer, she can't help but notice the oversized bouquet of flowers on her desk. Her eyebrows pinch together as she slows her steps, taking in the beautiful pinks and oranges in the bouquet before reaching for the card that stuck out of it. Sammy pops up then, right by Y/N’s side almost breathing down her neck.

“Did you not get my text? These showed up like halfway through your interviews,” Sammy states, trying to read the card before Y/N can. She shields it’s away from his eyes and looks at him over her shoulder. “Sorry,” he apologizes and takes a step back.

Y/N reads the printed out note and finds herself sighing as she reads it over again. I’m sorry - Mark. Y/N shakes her head and rolls her lips into her mouth, staring at the bouquet again. That’s it, just sorry? She thinks, but then remembers that he had texted her too. Maybe there’s something more there but Y/N finds herself doubting it.

“Who’s it from?” Sammy questions. Y/N ignores him and pulls out her phone from her back pocket. She unlocks it and taps on her messages app, having to back out of her conversation with Harry in order to open up Mark’s text from earlier.

Did you get the flowers? The company sent me a notification saying someone signed for them. Y/N rolls her eyes at his careless text message; not an ounce of emotion behind any of his words, through text or on the note. She doesn’t find herself smiling at the flowers, thinking how it’s a nice gesture, but instead finding it ridiculous that her boyfriend missed the whole point of the fight and just thinks some random bouquet of flowers will fix everything that she’s feeling. Is he even bothered by the fact they fought and haven’t spoken in five days? She wonders as she shuts off her phone screen without responding.

“Mark sent them,” Y/N finally tells Sammy, turning around to hand him the card. After he grabs it, and Y/N turns back around and places a hand on either side of the vase. She turns on her heels and walks around her desk to the left, moving Sammy’s chair out of the way and placing them on his desk instead. “You can have them, they look better on your desk,” she stays in a flat tone of voice, feeling indifferent about if she should just throw them out or not.

“Are you going to break up with him?” Sammy asks, his voice is quiet and soft - sounding like a caring friend instead of a gossiping coworker.

Y/N bites down on her bottom lip and nods, “yeah, I think I am going to. I just don’t know how, breaking up with someone on the phone feels so shallow and I would hate to be broken up with over the phone.” She explains, turning back around to look at Sammy again. He’s frowning, a look of pity in his eyes.

“But it’s unfair to you both to keep this relationship going on like this, Y/N,” Sammy says, letting out a deep sigh and tosses the card in the garbage bin by Y/N’s desk. “You’ll know what to do, you always do,” Sammy adds on with a smile.

Y/N tries to mirror her friends smile but feels it fall flat on her lips. She’s doubting herself, doubting her choices with Mark these past four months, and she keeps doubting herself all day till she’s walking into her apartment. She closes her door and slips out of her coat. Y/N sighs and pulls out her phone while walking to her bedroom, taking a seat on the end of her bed before pulling up Mark’s contact.

Her fingers hover over the call icon, her heart beating a million miles an hour as she imagines how this phone call is going to go. Should she really break up with him over the phone? She thinks, yet again doubting herself. This was really the only way to do it, seeing as he won’t be in the city for who knows how long. Y/N didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore, especially since it started to feel less like a relationship as the days went on this past month. Y/N inhales deeply just as her phone begins to ring, Mark’s contact picture of him kissing her cheek fills the screen in her hand. Y/N exhales before tapping the green icon on the phone and bringing it to her ear.

“Hi,” Y/N says softly into the phone.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my text earlier,” Mark starts off the conversation with a hard tone of voice as if he’s annoyed. Y/N licks her lips and nods, even though Mark can’t see her.

“Yeah, um, sorry, work got busy,” she lies. She had the time to text him back, she just didn’t know what to say as her thoughts were clouded with how to break up with him.

“Did you get them?” Mark asks.

“The flowers? Yeah, I did,” Y/N sighs. She’s racking her brain on how to do this. How do you break up with someone over a phone call? She shakes her head and brings a hand to her forehead, pushing her fingers through the roots of her hair. “Mark, we need to talk,” she says, feeling that’s the best she can do - the good ol’ classic line.

“Yeah, we do,” Mark agrees with a sigh from him now. Y/N listens as it’s like something shuffles on the other end of the phone, as if Mark switches his phone from one ear to the other. “Look, Y/N, you’re a wonderful girl, truly, you are. But we’re not really benefiting from this, are we?” Mark says, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts as her brows pinch together.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N questions.

“Uh, yeah-”

“No, no, I’m breaking up with you. I have thought long and hard about this for days now, and I don’t think we should be together anymore, Mark,” Y/N blurts out quickly, feeling as though her moment that she’s been talking herself up to all day was being taken away from her. She releases the grip she had on her hair and stares straight ahead at the painting on her wall, waiting for Mark to say something.

He lets out a long breath, “then I guess this is a lot easier for the both of us then, huh?” He says. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief.

“I guess so,” she mumbles.

“I’ll uh, I’ll send my assistant over soon for any of my things I’ve left at your apartment. She’ll bring the few things of yours that are at my place too. Are you available tomorrow?” Mark explains, asking the question so casually too. In fact, he sounds like he’s distracted with something on his end of the call too.

“Have you had this planned for a while now or something?” She asks, her eyebrows only pull together tighter in confusion. How can he act so unbothered only seconds after breaking up with her? She thinks. Sure, it’s a mutual break up, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t bothered by it still.

“Uh, no,” Mark mutters, not sounding convincing at all. Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head at herself - how did she even date this guy?

“You know what, whatever,” Y/N breathes out as her eyes close and she runs a hand through her hair, “I’ll be home from work around five in the evening tomorrow for your assistant to come by. Tell her to be on time, please,” she tells Mark.

“Alright,” he says. There’s a couple beats of silence between them, and she doesn’t feel upset over it at all. In fact she feels at peace with this breakup. She supposes that they didn’t date for long, and they never said I love you to each other and really didn’t spend too much time with one another the past two months. Maybe that’s why she’s not bothered by this break up at all.

“Well, it was fun, Mark,” Y/N says, “I wish you the best,” she adds.

“You too, Y/N,” he replies. And with that, Y/N brings the phone from her ear and ends the call. Staring at the screen that was on Mark’s contact info for a few minutes as she lets herself fall into her thoughts.

That was a lot easier than she imagined it to be earlier today. Y/N falls back on her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she holds her phone to her stomach and stares up at the ceiling. Did he have this planned though? She finds herself thinking. She imagines that he sent those flowers earlier to butter her up, maybe, before he called to break her heart only hours later. And having already made plans for his assistant to go through his apartment and bring her things to her. Maybe he already had gathered her things beforehand, meaning over a week ago he would have packed it up - only to come over to her house and fight with her for days on end before making her drive him to the airport. Y/N just shakes her head as her thoughts run wild.

Y/N knows exactly what she needs to do to get out of this overthinking stage that she’s got herself into. She gets up from her bed and opens her closet, her figure skates sitting on the bottom of the closet leaning nicely against each other. She finds an empty tote bag and tosses them inside, then quickly gets dressed into a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a plain white turtleneck long sleeve, and then layering by putting on a dark grey crew neck that has ‘LA’ in white writing across the front.

After making sure she has her wallet, phone and keys, she puts on a black puffer jacket and heads out her front door. Harry’s walking out of the elevator just as Y/N is locking up, he’s got a Starbucks hot drink in hand and a smile on his face.

“Hey,” Harry says, but then his eyebrows pinch together as he realizes the time, “where are you off to?” He wonders. Y/N brushes her hair from her face and lets out a small sigh.

“It’s, like, two weeks till Christmas and I haven’t gone skating yet, so I just got up and grabbed my skates to go out,” she explains, lifting her shoulder that her tote bag was hanging off. Her skates are poking out the top slightly, Harry notices the white figure skates with a pair of matching light pink guards on the bottom.  

“Oh, fun,” Harry nods, meeting her eyes again.

Y/N doesn’t even think twice before she’s asking, “did you want to come with me?”

Harry smiles, causing Y/N to mirror him, before he takes a few moments to nod in response. “I would love to, yeah,” Harry clears his throat, noticing how overly excited he may have sounded. “I should dress a bit warmer, though, it’s supposed to snow tonight,” he tells her, motioning to his apartment door down the hall.

“Good call,” Y/N says, following him to his doorway. Harry holds open his door for her after unlocking it, then letting it close softly behind them as he takes off the lighter jacket he had on. Y/N smiles at the decorations around his apartment, loving how the glow from the lights of his tree filled up the space around them before he can turn on any lights.

“I don’t have my own skates, suppose I’m not a real New Yorker like that,” Harry states as he opens the closet beside his front door and starts ruffling around in order to find where his scarfs were hiding.

“That’s fine,” Y/N says with a soft chuckle, turning around to watch as he sticks his head into the closet and pushes things around. “They have rentals at Bryant Park,” she tells him.

“I’ve never been,” Harry admits. He finally gets a hold of the long burgundy scarf with a brown leaf pattern on it, his mum had gifted it to him a few years back. Harry pushes the doors of his closet closed and puts the scarf down for a moment, hanging it on the door handle before he grabs his long black coat to slip it on. Once he’s got that on, he wraps the scarf around his neck, fixing the collar of his coat and the scarf so it’s comfortable.

“You’ve really never been to Bryant Park?” Y/N asks surprisingly. It wasn’t Central Park by any means, but anyone who lived in the Manhattan area typically had walked through Bryant Park.

“Nope,” Harry says, grabbing for his forgotten Starbucks drink, bringing it to his lips for a quick sip. He looks up at Y/N to find her smiling at him. “What?” Harry questions.

“Nothing, I’m just excited for you to see Bryant Park. It’s beautiful during the Winter,” she states.

“Well then, let’s not waste any time, come on,” Harry nods his head to the door and gives her a smile while holding it open for her. She thanks him, waits for him to lock the doors before they fall into step with one another to the elevator. Harry beats her to hitting the button, literally leaning in front of her in order to push the down button before she can. Y/N shakes her head at him, smiling.

“So how was your time at the cafe earlier?” Y/N asks Harry, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“It was good,” Harry says, tilting his head to the side so he can look at Y/N, “wrote another song about love,” he adds with a smile. Y/N chuckles and raises her eyebrows.

“Never would have guessed,” she teases him.

The whole walk to Bryant Park, all Harry can think about is when the hell was the last time he skated? That and how good Y/N looked, which is a thought that’s always going through his head, to be honest. But he’s stressing himself out, hoping and praying that some sort of muscle memory clicks in and he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Y/N. God, maybe he should have just saved himself the embarrassing situation and declined her invitation. Harry knew the moment he looked into her eyes there was something a bit off with her; how her smile didn’t quite reach its full potential - so the moment she asked if he wanted to come along with her, he didn’t even think twice before saying yes. The girl has her own figure skates, Harry wouldn’t doubt it if she’s about to skate circles around him.

“All black outfit,” Y/N comments as she watches Harry pick out a pair of black skates in his size, “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear all black before,” she adds with a smile.

“I used to only wear all black,” he admits, “back in uni, I really didn’t venture out in fashion and only wore black jeans and black t-shirts basically all year,” he explains to Y/N, letting her lead the way to the area for skaters to sit on the many benches and do up their skates.

“I truthfully can’t even imagine that,” Y/N replies, taking a seat on the bench right by the open door to the ice rink. She looks out at the about forty people on the ice, lit up by the many Christmas lights hanging over it and a few light posts in each corner too, as the sun has fully set now. The city around them is still hustling and bustling as it always is, which makes her smile.

“It was a tragedy, but I got older and realized that fashion can be fun, especially after moving to New York, seeing what people wear out for some innocent ice skating,” he mentions, taking in Y/N’s fashion forward outfit. The style was very trendy these days, he had noticed - online and in the streets.

“I would be an abomination of a former FIT student if I just walked around New York City in leggings and a hoodie,” Y/N states, “if I’m going somewhere, with someone, I always feel the need to look good.”

“And you do, by the way, look good,” Harry says, his words coming out quick and in a bit of a stumble. Y/N can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She says a quiet ‘thank you’ before she begins to lace up her skates.

Y/N has her skates done up before Harry, so she has an extra minute to take out her phone and open her Instagram app. She checks out her newest comments, liking a few, before she finds herself aimlessly scrolling through her feed and liking some posts there. Checking up on Harry, she notices he’s almost done doing up his skates, so she stands up and grabs her tote bag that now holds her skate guards and chunky black boots.

“Did you want to lock anything up?” Y/N asks Harry, motioning to the small lockers to their left.

He shakes his head, “no thank you,” he says before his attention is back on tying his skates. Y/N smiles at how his tongue pokes out just slightly passed his lips before she turns around and walks over to lock up her tote bag, making sure everything but her phone is inside.

Once the small locker door is closed, she walks over to the wall of the ice rink and opens her Instagram again, putting on a quick filter that makes it look like it’s being filmed with an old film camera before she pans her camera around while holding down the button on the screen. As she turns to face where Harry is, she cuts off the video and double checks he’s not in it. With having so many followers, she always makes sure that her friends and family are comfortable with being posted before doing so. Y/N adds a quick caption of ‘first skate this season’ with a white heart emoji before she posts it to her story, then she slips the phone into her back pocket and walks over to where Harry sat waiting for her.

“Ready?” Harry asks, smiling up at her.

“Yup,” she nods, smiling back at him. Harry nods, muttering ‘alright’ under his breath, and then stands up on wobbling legs. Y/N chuckles and reaches for his elbow, helping him stand up straight. “You’ve skated before, right?” She asks, realizing now that she only assumed that he had.

“Uh, it’s been a few years,” Harry admits, flashing another nervous smile her way. All he can think about is her hand on his arm, and how she hasn’t let go of him yet. Harry hadn’t even thought about the potential arm holding, or hand holding maybe, they could get into here. She has a boyfriend, he reminds himself over and over again as he watches her lips tug up as she smiles back at him again.

“Alright, we’ll take it slow then,” she assures him, pulling at his arm gently to get them moving forward on their skates.

Y/N takes the first step onto the shining ice, letting her blades slide over the top slowly before she takes a sharp turn and is in front of Harry in an instant. His eyebrows fly up his forehead as his eyes fall down to her skates again, noticing how worn out they look now, her left foot lifting up as she sticks the toe of her skate blade into the ice - her whole stance made her look like some sort of professional. Harry’s head snaps up and he meets her gaze, lips now smirking at his stunned expression.

“You’ve been skating a lot before then, hm?” Harry gulps, looking back down at his feet as he inches slowly to the ice.

“Since I was a kid,” Y/N reveals. He’ll touch more on it later, but first he wants to get himself onto the ice and get this embarrassment over with. Harry sighs and starts to place his right foot into the ice, letting out a deep breath as he does but just as quickly as he makes the move he’s slipping. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, ready to fall before he even has both feet on the ice. But both of Y/N’s arms fly out and grab a hold of his forearms, causing him to wrap each of his hands around her much smaller forearms.

Harry shakes his head and just decides to get it over with, pushing both skates onto the ice in a quick motion. Y/N is fully prepared for his sudden movement and skates backwards, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure she doesn’t get in anyone's way. She keeps a tight grip on Harry’s arms and smiles as she looks up at him and sees the stressed out look on his face.

“You’re doing great,” Y/N assures him, her voice causing Harry to look down and meet her soft eyes. “We can move a bit closer to the wall so you can hang onto it for the first bit?” She suggests, motioning to the wall beside them.

“Probably for the best,” Harry agrees, nodding his head and finally taking his eyes off Y/N’s in order to make his way to the wall. The few movements on his part aren’t as hard as he thought they’d be to get over to the wall. He thinks his muscle memory for skating will click in soon, hopefully.

Y/N takes it slow beside Harry, waiting for him to get comfortable enough to only need one hand on the wall before she lets go of his arm. She already misses the warmth from his touch. Not even one day into her and Mark’s break up and she’s already feeling touch deprived. To be fair, her and Mark hadn’t so much as given each other a few quick pecks and barely snuggling on the couch the last couple days they were together. Y/N shakes her head slightly at her thoughts of Mark.

“So how did you get into skating?” Harry asks after a few moments of them finding a slow pace.

“Um,” Y/N pauses as she thinks of how to explain how her parents didn’t want to spend much time with her, so they stuck her into many different hobbies to fill the void. “I was into a lot of the typical little girl hobbies, dancing, gymnastics, art, but figure skating was something that just really stuck with me as I grew up. Probably in connection with my obsession with the holidays, and the winter season,” Y/N explains, noticing already how Harry’s pace on his skates is picking up.

“Are you, like, really good?” Harry questions. Y/N chuckles and looks away from the ice below them to meet his gaze before he’s glancing down at his skates again in order to keep upright.

“Yup,” Y/N nods, rolling her lips into her mouth to hide her grin.

“So humble,” Harry jokes with a chuckle. “You could probably skate circles around me, huh? Do those little twirly things too?”

“I could do a few spins, yes,” Y/N says and nods her head. “I’ll let you get used to the ice first before I throw out any big moves,” she adds, looking down at how Harry’s feet were moving on the ice. Every minute he is getting better, soon enough he’ll let go of that wall and be able to skate in slow laps around the rink with her.

“How very considerate of you,” Harry notes, causing the both of them to chuckle again.

They do another two laps with Harry’s hand just inches away from the wall, hovering over it just in case he made the wrong move. But then soon enough, they’re mixed in with the other skaters and making strong, smooth strides across the ice. Y/N is laughing at something Harry says about how he must look like Bambi on ice, head thrown back and eyes crinkled up, when Harry just about falls. She catches him gasping and opens her eyes quickly before catching his hand in hers.

“You okay?” She asks, clear concern in her voice as she moves in order to meet his eyes. Harry knows this isn’t the first time they’ve sort of held hands, but it still feels like her skin is too warm for his cold touch and butterflies erupt in his stomach as she cards their fingers together so effortlessly. Damn Styles grow some balls and don’t let her make all the first moves, he thinks to himself.

“‘M alright,” Harry mumbles and nods, completely losing focus on the world around them as they float across the ice looking into each other's eyes and holding hands.

Y/N licks her lips, blinking up at Harry in what feels like an innocent way but realizes the moment his gaze drops to her lips that maybe it isn’t. Clearing her throat, she squeezes Harry’s hand and then slowly lets go. Harry can’t help but feel disappointed by how short they’d held hands for, he was hoping it would at least last a whole lap around the rink. Y/N shivers and sticks both of her hands into her coat pockets, playing off letting go of his hand with being cold, but in reality touching Harry’s skin made her feel like she was on fire.

“Tell me what your favourite colour is,” Harry blabs out loud suddenly.

Y/N furrows her brows and looks up at Harry. He’s no longer watching the ice with each stride of his skates, instead his posture is completely at ease almost as he seems much more confident on the ice now. Something tells Y/N that Harry is stupidly good at pretty much anything and if he doesn’t get it right the first time it would only take a few more before he masters it.

“It changes almost every other day,” Y/N admits, biting down on her bottom lip - which causes Harry’s eyes to flicker down to her lips yet again. “Lately it’s been green,” she exclaims, as she speaks Harry’s gaze falls back to her eyes.

“Like my eyes?” Harry teases, batting his eyelashes.

There’s suddenly a group of teenagers in their way, causing their conversation to pause as they have to maneuver around the few bodies. Harry finds that he doesn’t struggle at all with the quick movements he has to make with his skates in order to get around them. He smiles to himself, proud of how fast he’s picked up skating again. Maybe he’ll try the little twirly spin around Y/N to impress her. Too bad she’s much more talented on skates and is picking up speed before making a quick turn and is now skating backwards in front of Harry with her eyes narrowed and a tight smile on her lips.

“Firstly, that was a poor set up to try and get a compliment out of me, I’ll just tell you that your eyes are very pretty,” Y/N states. Harry smiles at her words, those pesky butterflies back in his stomach once again. “And second, my favourite green is more like a dark, rich, forest green,” she explains, quickly looking over her shoulder as they turn the corner of the rink. Harry notices how effortlessly she picks up her skates and crosses them over each other to smoothly take the turn.

“Like a Christmas tree?” Harry wonders.

Y/N smiles and nods, “exactly, like a Christmas tree,” she says, a beat of silence between them before she asks, “what’s your favourite colour?”

“Pink,” Harry answers without missing a beat. It’s been his favourite for years now, since he was just a young lad.

“Like my lips?” Y/N teases, her voice dropping down into a low and soft tone that causes a fire to spark in the pit of Harry’s stomach. His eyes drop to her lips at the mention of them, which Y/N notices and smirks at him before she’s turning on her skates and facing forward again. They both don’t say anything as they skate around the other turn of the rink, avoiding an older couple that has slowed down in front of them. Y/N still has a smug look on her face when Harry glances to his left where she skates beside him. Obviously, yes, exactly like the shade of your lips, Harry thinks and wishes he had the guts to say aloud.

“More like,” Harry pauses and then smiles, “like the Pink Panther,” Harry jokes.

“You know what, fair enough,” Y/N chuckles and shrugs her shoulder.

The two of them continue to ask each other more random favourites, getting the basics down with favourite foods, favourite alcoholic drinks, and favourite word too, of course. In fact, they are just skating at a leisurely pace for quite some time. Y/N notices that the number of people on the rink dwindles down to a mere twenty and she lifts her Apple watch up, so it lights up and shows her the time. Bryant Park should be closing within an hour or two, depending if they’re on holiday hours yet, meaning that Harry and her have spent nearly two hours out on the ice together.

“I think it’s time you bust out some of those fancy figure skating moves,” Harry suddenly says unprovoked. Y/N furrows her brows and shakes her head, watching a young couple, just a few people ahead of them, holding hands, like how she wishes her and Harry could have been this entire time. But it’s too soon, she thinks.

“I don’t know,” Y/N mutters under her breath, her eyes still on the couple as they’re laughing together - much like how her and Harry have been. Did these strangers around them think they were a couple?

“Fine,” Harry huffs and starts to skate a bit faster to be a few strides ahead of Y/N before he comes to a wobbly stop a bit more into the middle of the rink out of everyone's way. Y/N comes to a much smoother stop in front of him. “I’ll give it a shot then, how hard can it be to spin around a few times.”

Famous last words, Y/N thinks as Harry tries to whip his body around to try and attempt to do a spin. She can already see how he’s lifting the toe of his left skate, the small ridges getting caught on the ice while his body is still trying to spin around. Y/N’s eyes widen as she suddenly tries to stop him, her hands just barely getting a hold of his arms before he can fall. But his weight is too much and her skates slip out from under her. A small screech escapes her mouth as the two of them begin their fall to the ice - for surprisingly the first time tonight. Harry turns them both so he gets the worst of the fall, moving Y/N so she falls more on top of him rather than on the ice. Y/N notices and quickly moves her hand to the back of his head to ensure he doesn’t smack it against the hard surface. Her fingers card through his hair, while her other hand is clenching into a fist around the fabric of his coat.

“Shit,” Harry groans as the bodies fall to the ice. Thankfully, he tries to sit up a bit during the fall, so he doesn’t hit his head but instead he feels immediately pain shot up his elbow and backside.

“Oh my god,” Y/N gasps, blinking several times as she takes in what had happened. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asks Harry in a rush of words.

“I’m okay,” he nods, which causes Y/N to realize her hand is still brushing through his hair. She rubs his scalp a few times with her thumb before removing her hand and quickly lifting her body off of Harry’s. “I’ll probably have a bruised ass, but I guess that’s karma,” he tries to joke.

Y/N frowns and smacks his arm gently, “don’t pull that shit again, oh my god, I thought we were going to end our night in the ER.”

Harry chuckles and sits up, taking in how Y/N has sat up on her knees with both her hands resting on her thighs. Her hair is a bit of a mess and her eyes wide and wild with emotion - but otherwise she looks alright. Thankfully, Harry did good and kept her safe in their fall.

“Just need a few ice packs and maybe a joint before bed to ease the pain,” Harry says, only half joking.

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together, “do you smoke weed?” She asks. To be honest, she couldn’t imagine Harry as some pothead. Not that there was a true look to a ‘pothead’ these days. Hell, she’s had her fair share of joints and edibles while in college. Even afterwards too, Sammy loved to roll a joint or two towards the end of their wine nights.

Harry shrugs and begins to get up from the ice slowly. “Not really. It makes me a bit sleepy, truthfully,” he tells her.

“I get that,” Y/N nods, “I don’t smoke often, but when I do, I typically fall asleep within the hour after smoking. It annoys the crap out of Sammy.” She tells Harry truthfully. Harry nods as well, only a little bit surprised to learn that Y/N didn’t say no to drugs in her youth. Not that he was judging, far from it really cause he had no room to judge, but he just simply didn’t imagine her consuming anything more than a bottle or two of wine.

The two of them get up off the ice now, finally getting back on their feet. A sigh leaves Y/N lips as she brushes her hands on her jeans. “I think you falling is our cue to get out of here,” she suggests, skating slowly backwards towards the doorway where the benches were.

“You’re probably right,” Harry agrees and begins to follow her, trying not to whine with his movements as a sharp pain stings his bottom with each stride of his skates.

Y/N leaves Harry to sit on the bench they had used before and goes over to unlock her locker and get her tote bag. Harry’s lucky no one stole his shoes he had just left under the bench with no care in the world, she thinks as she walks back over and sits beside him. She unties her skates and is slipping on her boots before Harry can even untie one of his skates. Y/N puts the guards on her skates and places them into her tote bag before turning to look at Harry, noticing the pained look in his face as he bends forward to work on the laces of his other skate.

“Did you need help?” She asks him.

“No,” Harry pauses to hiss in pain, “I’m fine,” he adds, but Y/N just rolls her eyes and scoots over on the bench till she’s nearly pressing right up against Harry’s side, leaning down in order to work on his laces.

Harry watches her nimble fingers untie and loosen the laces, noticing how her hair falls as she bends down further. A faint smell of roses hits him with the movement of her hair as she pushes it back away from her line of sight. Harry looks away, glancing around them to see if anyone’s watching them because from any other view it may look like Y/N is giving him-

“There you go,” Y/N says with a smile and sits up again. Harry looks at his skates to see them completely loosened and ready for him to slip off easily.

“Thanks,” Harry says quietly with a smile.

After Harry has his trusty not-so-white vans on, they walk over to return his rentals and make their way out of the ice rink area of Bryant Park. Harry notices the shops around the park, the painted white frames and clean windows were rather pleasing to look at while the inside glows with soft yellow lights. He wonders what they sell, but notices Y/N hiding a yawn behind her hand and decides it’s probably best they just head home. Also, his ass really did hurt with each step he took.

“Would you like to get a hot cocoa before we walk home?” Harry suggests, pointing to the small shack that was open and looks like it serves hot drinks and a few treats maybe.

“I would love that,” Y/N answers with a bright smile.

Her heart can’t help but burst at the thought that Harry knows her so well already. Not even a month of knowing one another and he already is so much better than Mark ever was. He would never go skating with her or buy her a nice warm drink afterwards either. It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend anymore, Y/N finds herself reminding herself, which causes her heart to pitter patter in her chest again. This time thinking about how maybe Harry could maybe be her boyfriend, one day.

“Hi,” Y/N gives the small brunette at her front door a tight smile.

She’s almost thirty minutes later than Mark said she would be. But to be fair, the subway was later than usual on her way home so Y/N had only just gotten home ten minutes ago. She had texted Mark to let him know and relay the message to his assistant, but he didn’t answer, no surprise there. So, in hindsight it wasn’t the biggest deal that his pretty little assistant was late.

What the big deal was the way she just strolled into Y/N’s apartment and set the box of her things on the couch. Y/N is standing by her door still in disbelief, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the girls behaviour. When she turns around and gives Y/N a funny look while pointing around at her Christmas decor.

“It looks like Mrs Claus threw up in here,” she says.

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters and walks over to where she stood by the couch. Mark’s assistant steps back, pulling out her phone and tapping away at the screen as she seems bored to be here. “I’ll go get Mark’s things,” Y/N says, but then just as she’s about to walk away her eyes catch something red near the top of the box of her things that Mark had packed up.

She pushes her favourite Eagles shirt out of the way and hooks one finger around the lacy red fabric. The Victoria’s Secret label sticks out of the barely there red thong that’s hanging off her index finger. Y/N doesn’t recognize the underwear, she thinks as her head begins to spin. How the fuck did a pair of woman's underwear get into this box of things Mark packed up? Why would he have a red thong at his apartment that wasn’t Y/N’s? What the actual fuck? Another round of questions are about to spew in Y/N’s head as her heart beats out of her chest but then suddenly Mark’s assistant is reaching for the lacy fabric and taking it out of Y/N’s grasp.

“Oh, those are mine. Must’ve slipped in by accident,” she stammers out the words. Y/N’s head is spinning, her heart is beating out of her chest, as she puts the pieces together.

“Really? A thong just slipped into the box?” Y/N urges, narrowing her eyes at the young brunette standing in her living room. “How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?” Y/N asks and raises her voice, the anger filling her whole body now.

“Ex boyfriend,” the brunette has the guts to utter out.

“Answer the damn question,” Y/N snaps back at her.

Her face is turning red, to match the stupid thong in her hands, “uh, it’s none of your business-”

“Just tell me!” Y/N shouts, feeling like she deserves some truth in this moment. Mark’s assistant visibly gulps, avoiding Y/N’s eyes and looks all around the room.

“Like, a few months,” she mutters under her breath, still not meeting Y/N’s burning gaze.

Her whole body is shaking with the anger coursing through her. She should have known. How could she be such an idiot? She thinks while shaking her head. Of course, Mark was cheating on her during the entirety of their relationship. They were only dating for four months, meaning that for at least half of it, he was busy screwing his fucking assistant - how unbelievably cliche of him, but also how unbelievably naive of her to not guess. Y/N brings a hand to her forehand and rubs at her temple as a headache begins.

“Can I just get Mark’s stuff and go-”

“Get. Out.” Y/N spits out the words, glaring at the brunette who has the audacity to be so nonchalant about being the other woman.

“What about his things?” Mark’s assistant all but winces out the words, her dark eyebrows pulling together.

“Tell Mark to eat a dick,” Y/N sneers, taking a step towards the girl which causes her to step back. She can’t deny the bit of joy she feels at the sight of fear in the girls eyes. “And get out of my apartment, now!” Y/N shouts at the woman.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, turning around and walking to the front door.

Y/N is hot on her heels, making sure to slam to door shut behind her. The moment she’s left to herself, her apartment falling silent around her, she feels the pain settle in. Mark cheated on her with his assistant that he then had the nerve to let come over to her apartment. The realization of how embarrassing this whole situation is hits her, along with the hurt too. Regardless if it was a mutual break up, being cheated on does not feel good. Y/N sniffles, bringing a hand to her mouth as she suddenly is holding back sobs. Tears fall down her cheeks while her brain runs wild thinking of how many times Mark could have fucked his assistant and then just waltzed into her apartment and then they-

Her thoughts are cut short as she’s bolting to her bathroom, throwing the door open and bending down in front of the toilet. She lifts the seat and empties her stomach into the bowl. After a moment she’s coughing, lifting her head out of the toilet and reaching for the lever to flush away any contents that were in her stomach. Y/N grabs the hand towel to her right and brings it to her mouth, wiping away the bit of drool at her lips.

Y/N can feel the vibration from her cell phone after a moment of sitting on the bathroom floor, zoned out on the shower and thinking about how stupid she could have been to trust Mark. She lets out a short sigh and reaches into her back pocket to find her buzzing phone. Her eyes roll on instinct of seeing Mark’s contact photo taking up her screen. A part of her wants to answer, to yell and to scream at him. But a bigger part of her feels sick to her stomach again and just tired, honestly. So, she ignores the call and opens her phone to her contacts and deletes Mark all together. She goes into her photos and does a quick sweep of any photos of them together. It was something she was going to do eventually anyways, but after the news of him being a cheating piece of shit she couldn’t waste another second before getting rid of anything involving Mark.

Mark is a fucking asshole. His precious little assistant came by to drop off my few things and one of her thongs was in the box, so she spilled the beans that she had been sleeping with Mark for months. Meaning that piece of absolute trash was cheating on me like the entire time we were together. Y/N types out the message to Sammy, making sure that he knows the drama first - but also just simply because he’s her best friend.

Sammy is typing back a response as Y/N stands up from her spot by the toilet, flushing it again due to her spitting a few times into the bowl, and then she quickly washes her hands and looks up at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are red, her hairs a bit frizzy and out of place from the perfect curls she had earlier today, and her makeup is ruined. She decides to wash her face, drying it with a clean towel as her phone vibrates on the counter.

Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m going to kill him. Please tell me we have a murder plan, I know where we can hide the body. Did you want to talk about it? I can come over and bring a big bottle of tequila? Sammy sends each sentence as a separate text, adding a few choice emojis too. The knife is used many times. His enthusiasm makes Y/N chuckle but then she’s frowning again while walking out of the bathroom and to her bedroom.

Honestly, I just want to curl up in bed and cry it out some more while listening to some sad music. But I’ll keep you updated on any murder plans I think up. Y/N sends back her texts before throwing her phone down on her bed.

Letting out another sigh, Y/N strips out of her tight fitting pants and puts on a pair of grey sweatpants. Next, she takes off the collared button up shirt she had worn tucked into her pants today, hanging it back up in her closet to prevent it from getting wrinkled. Her eyes wander around her bedroom, a certain article of clothing was on her mind to put on and snuggle into bed with. Y/N smiles as she sees Harry’s black hoodie on the top of her laundry hamper. To be honest, it needed to be washed, but she needed the comfort of his oversized clothing more. So, she tugs it on, puts her hair into a messy topknot bun, and tugs down the hood before lifting the blanket and getting into bed.

Not even three songs into her ‘depressed? yeah, me too’ playlist of sad songs, there was a knock on Y/N’s front door. At first she thinks of ignoring whoever it is, but then her music is cut off as a phone call comes through. It’s Mark’s number, regardless that she just deleted his contact, she still knew his phone number. Y/N groans and gets out of bed. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she imagines Mark or that little assistant of his having the balls to come to her apartment again and demand for his few things he had left around here. Y/N narrows her eyes and unlocks her door, ready to glare at her sad excuse for an ex boyfriend - but her face instantly softens at the sight of Harry standing there.

“Nice jumper,” Harry comments. A smile on his lips as he takes in how Y/N looks in his clothing, days after he had lent it to her. But that smile vanishes when he notices the redness in her eyes and her pouting lips. “What’s wrong?” Harry asks, his voice full of worry as he fights back reaching for her and bringing her in for a hug.

Y/N sniffles, “um, I thought you were Mark, sorry,” she says in a quiet voice.

“Oh, sorry, is he coming over?” Harry questions. Suppose it made more sense for her boyfriend to comfort her during a bad day, he thinks although it tears him up inside that it can’t be him.

“No, no, he’s in Arizona, or somewhere. I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs, her voice sounding brittle, like it’s about to crack at any second, as she tries to keep herself composed in front of Harry. “I don’t really care actually, we broke up,” she reveals, her gaze down at the floor. Harry’s wearing those dirty white vans again, she wonders if he wears anything else.

They broke up, holy shit don’t freak out Styles, keep it together, Harry’s thoughts are all jumbled up at the news of Y/N and her boyfriends break up, which she is clearly very upset over, judging by her appearance and how she’s sniffling every second - bringing the sleeve of his Columbia jumper to her face to wipe her nose. Harry frowns and adjusts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” Harry says softly, “break ups can really suck,” he adds - knowing from experience just how terrible break ups can leave a person feeling.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathes out and looks up at Harry now, “but he’s kind of a trash human so it’s for the best, honestly,” she tells him, letting out a breathy chuckle while shaking her head. She shouldn’t be crying so damn much over the guy, she thinks.

“Oh, well then, fuck that guy,” Harry agrees with a nod of his head.

Y/N lets out a genuine chuckle at his words. She brings a hand, that is covered by the cuff of Harry’s hoodie, to her forehead to swipe back any crazy wispy hairs that are in her face. “So, what brought you to knock on my door?” She asks, smiling as Harry realizes he had gotten distracted by her state and forgot why he knocked at all.

“Right,” Harry chuckles, “um, a few friends of mine are in this band, it’s nothing crazy they just play at the pub a few blocks away. And I was wondering if you weren’t busy if you wanted to come with, thought it could be fun. But if you’re not in the mood to leave your home I understand,” Harry explains to her.

“No, I would love to come with,” Y/N insists. She lets out another chuckle and motions to her current appearance. “Just not looking like this, and as long as you promise there will be liquor involved in this Saturday night out.”

“I’ll buy you as many drinks as you need,” Harry promises with a smile.

“Then count me in,” Y/N says, mirroring his big dimpled smile. “Just give me some time to get ready?”

“You’ve got plenty of time, we don’t have to leave for another hour and a half,” he tells her. “I’ll let you get to it,” he adds, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he takes a step away from her doorway.

“Oh, I’ll wash the sweater and give it to you soon, by the way,” Y/N says, lifting both her arms before letting them fall to her sides. Harry just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

“Keep it as long as you need, it’s no problem, honestly,” Harry tells her while flashing a grin her way, hoping that it makes her feel even a little bit better. And it does, his casual response to her wearing his hoodie and then those dimples - it had her stomach fluttering. She gives Harry a small timid smile, tucking her chin down slightly into the collar of the hoodie as she watches his walk backwards down the hall to his door. “I’ll come knocking again in a bit,” Harry adds before he’s out of her sight and she’s closing her front door shut once again.

Y/N absentmindedly brings her hand to her mouth, biting on her nails as she stares off at her Christmas tree - though the lights are blurry due to her zoning out. You can do this, Y/N thinks and begins to give herself a pep talk of getting out of the sad break up phase and going out with Harry and his friends. Oh my god, Y/N’s eyes widen at her thoughts, what am I going to wear?

Y/N felt overdressed.

After twenty minutes of ripping apart her closet and tearing items out of her dresser drawers, she was truly tempted to just keep on Harry’s hoodie, pair it with some good jeans and some red heeled boots and call it a day. But that would be weird, showing up to hang out and meet Harry’s friends while dressed in his clothing. She was sure they were already going to assume things with him just bringing her along. Y/N didn’t need them thinking they had sex before too.

The thought had made Y/N blush like crazy as she tore off the stupidly comfortable hoodie and grabbed a silky white top that plunged low in the neckline, tying off just at her belly button, and then had long flowy sleeves. Pairing this with her trusted pair of light blue jeans, and for accessories: some chunky gold hoop earrings and layered gold necklaces to fill up the amount of skin she was showing at her chest. To top it all off, she slipped into her go-to black Balenciaga boots and long brown jacket to keep warm. After heading into the bathroom quickly, she brushed her hair through again and restyled the curls, put on a touch of light makeup, and then made sure to stick her lip gloss in her small black purse just as Harry was knocking on her door again.

Harry was dressed in a grey t-shirt with a large yellow smiley face, brown trousers and a blue and cream plaid jacket that quite literally made chills wash over Y/N’s body when she saw the whole fit - but that jacket, it made her head spin with some rather inappropriate thoughts. She’s a fashion major, can’t blame her for thinking clothing can make someone even more attractive. But even then she should have gotten the vibe of this evening and changed into something more casual.

But she didn’t, so now as she’s walking into a dive bar a few blocks away from the apartment building, she feels very out of place. Everyone’s wearing t-shirts and jeans, it smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes, and was definitely not the place to wear a silky white top that cost about five-hundred-dollars.

“You alright?” Harry's voice is soft and closer, as he steps directly behind Y/N after walking into the bar.

He notices how she crossed her arms at her chest and seemed to tense up almost immediately after walking in. Y/N shivers at the feeling of Harry’s breath falling over her exposed neck, having pushed her hair to lay on her left shoulder while he stood over her right. Y/N is still looking around the bar, trying to put together who may be Harry’s group of friends in this crowded bar.

“Y/N?” Harry tries again, this time placing a delicate hand on the small of her back - barely touching her, that he’s not even sure she’s noticed through her thick jacket. But she does, and she feels dizzy at the sweet gesture.

“Yeah,” she sighs, blinking a few times before looking to her right shoulder at Harry. He’s lips are so close, she thinks while trying her best to keep her eyes on his eyes. “Just feeling a little overdressed,” Y/N admits with a tight smile.

Harry shakes his head, “you look fine, better than fine actually. You look amazing,” Harry watches as Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips for just a split second. He smiles but clears his throat, finding that they’re both blushing at his comment now. “As any FIT student in New York City should, of course,” he adds on to try and make his compliment a little less obvious.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/N smiles.

When Harry saw Y/N for the second time that evening, it was like day and night from the hour before when she answered her door in his hoodie. She looked incredible, and was so out of his league. Dressed like she was going to a photoshoot, hair flowing down her back perfectly, and accessories that made him visibly gulp - he was a sucker for some gold jewelry on a girl, it was a weird weakness of his. And now, standing in the dim lighting of this dingy dive bar, she did look a little out of place, but in the best way possible, like she shined too bright to be in just a dark and depressing place.

“This way,” Harry says, leading the way to where he notices his friends are sitting at a table. They thankfully got his texts about him bringing Y/N with him and had two seats open for the both of them.

“Should we stop at the bar and get a drink?” Y/N asks. She’s honestly unsure how the service works at a place like this. To be honest, she hadn’t been in too many dive bars in her years.

Harry stops, looks behind him at her, and shakes his head. “We have a waitress that works basically every night my friends play, so she’ll come by and get our drinks for us,” he explains to Y/N. She nods, giving him a tight smile, and Harry can’t help but notice how she’s still got her arms crossed at her chest. Is she uncomfortable here? Maybe he can make some shit excuse after the first few songs and get her home.

Harry notices as he’s turned towards Y/N just how much attention is on her. He’s not surprised, seeing how he already realized how much she sticks out in a place like this, but he doesn’t quite enjoy seeing every male’s - and a few girls too - eyes in this place on the girl he’s brought with him. So, he makes the quick decision of holding out his hand for Y/N to take. She looks at Harry’s outstretched hand and feels her breath get caught in her throat. Playing it off, she smiles and reaches forward, watching as his much larger hand envelopes hers and tugs gently to get them moving again. Y/N’s stomach is already full of butterflies and her head is spinning at them holding hands for all of ninety seconds it takes to get to his table full of friends - she needs a drink, stat.

Harry lets go of Y/N’s hand as he approaches his friend's usual table and has to bring his arms up in order to hug Adam, who’s throwing himself into Harry at the sight of him. Harry huffs out a laugh, making a comment about how drunk Adam must be already, to which he responds by smacking Harry’s back a few times and laughing with him. Y/N can’t help it as the corners of her lips turn up into a small smile at the sight of Harry engulfed in a hug by a man bigger than him. As she’s watching their interaction, she notices how everyone else is watching her. Y/N’s smile falls right away and she finds herself crossing her arms at her chest again.

“Everyone,” Harry speaks a bit louder in order to get everyone's attention as he turns around and holds his arm out to Y/N, which she takes as her singal to step forward for an introduction and smiles timidly at the group of four others at the table. “This is Y/N, Y/N, this is everyone,” Harry announces, smiling at his friends - catching Mitch’s smug look in return.

“Hi,” Y/N says, her voice that soft and gentle tone that he had grown to like, quite a lot, actually.

“I’m Tom,” he’s the first to speak up, offering a hand to Y/N to shake, which she turns just a bit to her left in order to properly greet Harry’s friend. Tom’s got bleached hair that’s not styled and laying flat on his forehead, his roots are a dark brown that match the mustache and bit of bread he’s got. Y/N notices the few different necklaces around his neck while he’s wearing a simple outfit of a black long sleeve and black jeans.

“Jenny,” the woman sitting to Tom's left reaches over the table in order to shake Y/N’s hand. She’s also got bleached hair, and a dazzling smile too. Y/N notices the equally dazzling ring on her finger and she glances down at Tom’s hands to see a wedding band, assuming they are married due to them sitting so closely.

“Mitch,” a long haired young man speaks up just as Y/N and Jenny drop their hands. Y/N meets his gaze and blinks a few times, feeling slightly intimidated by him. Regardless of how he seems like the scrawniest at the table, his eyes just sort of bring Y/N to a stop, but she recovers swiftly and gives him a smile, returning the wave he gives her as it’s too far of a reach to shake hands. Mitch raises a brow at Harry, to which Harry is quick to return. Catching the interaction, Y/N imagines they are the closest of the group. Suppose he’s just a bit protective of his friend bringing a random girl around, Y/N thinks to herself before her attention is grasped by the last person sitting at the table.

“And I’m Adam, the only name you need to remember, obviously,” says the man who had hugged Harry upon their arrival. He’s smiling so widely there’s crinkles near his eyes, which make Y/N feel all warm inside as she stares into his big brown eyes. He’s got a full bread, like Mitch, and matching brown hair that looks like it may need a bit of a trim but he styles it well. Y/N likes his button up shirt that’s a dark navy with little white stars all around it, paired with some plain black jeans.

“It’s really lovely to meet you all,” Y/N says after shaking Adam’s hand, “thank you for letting me come crash your night,” she adds with another timid smile.

“Nonsense, it’s nothing special,” Jenny assures her, waving her hand too before wrapping it around her half full glass of what Y/N assumed was alcohol - or hoped, because she really didn’t want to be the only one drinking tonight.

“Ouch,” Adam scoffs jokingly, “guess your husbands best mates playing is nothing special then, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m hurt, Jenny,” Mitch nods, bringing his glass up to his lips to take a sip of the dark yellow foaming liquid in his tall glass - beer, okay, sweet, so we’re all drinking, good, Y/N thinks. She also notices that Mitch is the only one with an American accent. She wonders how this group all became friends, being from different parts of the world, where did they all connect?

Harry chuckles and shakes his head at his friends, looking to Y/N to find her smiling at his mates too. He places a hand on her elbow, causing her to look at him. He nods his head to the open seats on the other side of the table for them. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and begins to walk around the table, stepping behind Tom and Jenny’s chairs before stopping at the first one on Jenny’s right. Y/N catches Mitch’s stare, now ignoring the conversation at the table to instead watch Harry and her, but she’s quick to look away from his intense gaze and focus on taking her jacket off. Just as she tosses her jacket over the back of her chair, fixing her top in a discreet manner too, a red headed woman steps up in between her and Harry who is also slipping out of his jacket.

“Hey, Harry,” the woman greets him in a sultry tone. If Harry notices the obvious show she puts into her voice, he doesn’t act like it.

“Hey, Amy,” he says quickly, looking at his chair as he pulls it out and takes a seat.

“Running a bit behind your friends tonight, huh? What took you so long?” She asks. Seems she's rather observant of Harry’s presence, Y/N thinks, while she takes her seat and looks anywhere but to her right where the red head - fake red dye too, it was so obvious - back was mere inches away from her.

“I love your top, it’s so stylish,” Jenny comments, causing Y/N to look to her left at Jenny’s dazzling smile again.

“Thank you,” Y/N says, “this may not be the place to wear it, seems more like a casual band tee kind of place,” she notes, narrowing her eyes while looking around at the bar around them. Noticing now just how many neon signs there were in the dark space. The biggest was on the wall behind the small stage, which every table was facing. The bar was at the back of the bar and there were booths lining the wall closest to the door, then a couple of pool tables and gambling machines in the far right of the bar. Y/N had spent too much time in high maintenance bougie bars to find any of this remotely normal - but she didn’t hate it.

“Rubbish, you look hot, definitely got people in here questioning their wardrobe,” Jenny states, gaining Y/N’s attention again, “hell, next time I’m stepping it up to match this energy,” she adds, waving her hands at Y/N’s outfit. 

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “well thanks, but you look incredible already! There’s no need.”

“Y/N,” Harry interrupts the girls suddenly.

Y/N lets out a small breath before turning to face what she’s been ignoring. The flirtatious red head and Mitch’s strong stare. Y/N raises her eyebrows at Harry. She completely ignores how the waitress now stood facing both their chairs, but she did notice how her hand was resting on the back of Harry’s.

“What are you drinking tonight?” Harry asks her, lips turning up into a smile. He can’t help himself, he finds himself smiling so much around her he’s sure he has wrinkles already.

“Oh,” Y/N says, finally looking at the waitress now. Her dark makeup made her blue eyes pop, it was a bit smudged but Y/N assumes she’s too busy working to notice. The waitress, Amy - Y/N reads her name tag, pinned on her tight black v neck shirt that has the bar's name on it - is staring at her, clearly forcing a smile while waiting for Y/N’s answer. “I’ll have tequila and soda water, bring a few lime slices on the side too,” Y/N orders, knowing exactly how Upper East Side she sounds, “please,” she adds with a forced smile that she mirrors from Amy.

“Coming right up,” Amy nods before turning away, not without a lingering gaze on Harry though.

Her obvious fake customer voice was rather annoying, Y/N thinks as her eyes follow her walking back to the bar. She takes note of the crowd around the bar, many waving at the one bartender stationed behind the bar. He looks older and is struggling to keep up with the rush of people. When Y/N turns back around, to face the table again, she catches Harry eyes on her. She scrunches up her nose at him and he chuckles before their attention is taken away by Adam’s deep voice.

“So, Y/N, you're this bloke’s neighbour, huh?” He questions, nodding his head to Harry. Y/N smiles and nods, sitting back in her chair while folding her hands between her thighs.

“Yeah, we just met in passing and ended up becoming friends,” she states, catching Harry nodding in the corner of her eye while he rests an arm on the table and faces towards her as he leans slightly into Mitch. To which Mitch responds by pushing his shoulder gently, making Harry’s smile widen at how he manages to bother his friend so easily.

“Give us the tea. How shit of a neighbour is he?” Adam asks, causing everyone at the table to chuckle.

“Hey,” Harry playfully whines at his friends.

“He’s fine, great even,” Y/N tells them, earning another smile from Harry as he watches her.

“Surprising considering he’s a shit roommate,” Mitch comments after taking another long sip of his beer. Harry turns in his chair and glares at Mitch, earning a smirk from him in return.

“I am not,” Harry grumbles.

“When were you two roommates?” Y/N asks, finding herself bringing a hand up to adjust her necklaces. Anything to keep her nervous hands busy. Suppose making new friends wasn’t her biggest strength, it was a rather nerve wracking experience to be honest.

“We just room together when we travel for any work stuff,” Harry answers, meeting her eyes for only a brief second before he’s looking back at Mitch. “Mitch here just likes his beauty sleep, while I have a pretty set morning routine I like to stick to,” Harry explains, looking back at Y/N as he finishes talking.

“Yeah, that starts at like six in the morning like a crazy person,” Mitch huffs jokingly.

“Six is way too early,” Y/N agrees, nodding along with Mitch. “At least give the man till nine,” she adds.

“He’s just being dramatic,” Harry states. Mitch mumbles something under his breath before taking another sip of his beer. Sounded a bit like “say’s the drama queen himself” but Y/N isn’t sure. Regardless, the interaction makes her smile. Just as she’s about to make another comment, Amy returns with hers and Harry’s drinks. Setting his down first with a smile before turning to Y/N and placing the glass of tequila and a small dish of limes too.

“Thank you,” Y/N says. Doesn’t matter if she thought Amy had an attitude problem, Y/N had manners.

“Anything else for the table? Another refill for you boys before you head up on stage?” Amy asks, ignoring Y/N completely and instead turning her back on her and looking at Mitch and Adam. Y/N notices how she leans her body into Harry a bit, her arm resting on the back of his chair again. If Harry notices, he’s oblivious to her motives. It almost makes Y/N laugh at how Harry’s ignoring her. 

“Please,” Mitch nods, lifting his glass to finish off the rest of his beer. Y/N tries to hide her facial expression as she is impressed with how Mitch manages to gulp down the beer so fast, instead bringing her focus to her own drink - which she was looking forward to downing herself honestly.

She picks up a lime wedge and squeezes it over her glass, watching the juices squirt out and into her glass. After she stirs it with her straw, she brings it to her lips and gulps back nearly half of it. Y/N suddenly feels her phone buzzing in her jean pocket. She sits up slightly in order to slide it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. It’s Mark’s number again. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she declines the call and sets her phone screen down on the table before grabbing ahold of her drink again and having another sip. He sure has some nerve to continue to call numerous times, Y/N thinks as she zones out from whatever Harry and his friends were talking about.

“Y/N grew up in the city, actually,” Harry states. Y/N raises her eyebrows and looks around the table to see everyone’s looking at her now. She’s missed what they were talking about prior so she just spit balls it here and smiles.

“Um, yeah, born and raised,” she nods, “I noticed you all have quite a jumble of accents, where are you all from?” Y/N asks, looking towards Tom and Jenny as they begin to explain where they were separately from before meeting in London.

Harry watches Y/N while his friends speak, mostly because he already knows everything there is about their lives, but also because he likes watching Y/N. Taking in her small mannerisms like how she talks with her hands quite a lot, and how she rubs her ankles together under the table as she listens to Adam talk about his wife and kids back home. They all chat amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing too, for nearly thirty minute before Mitch and Adam are whisked away to the stage. Harry feels his chest bursting as he sits back and watches Y/N interact with his friends as if they are her own. He smiles when she looks his way, her cheeks howling as she sucks on the straw of her second drink - nearly finishing it while staring at him. Harry has to break the gaze as his thoughts run a different less innocent route, causing him to readjust how he’s sitting and clearing his throat just as the lead singer of the band introduces them.

“So, why aren’t you in the band?” Y/N asks as the beginning chords of their opening song play out. She’s leaning her elbow on the table, resting her head in the palm of her hand while turning her head to Harry - shutting out Jenny and Tom completely but they’re too busy watching the band to care.

“Bold of you to assume I have enough talent to be in a band,” Harry says with a smirk. Y/N rolls her eyes and reaches for her glass, bringing the straw between her lips and finishing off the tequila and soda water with three squeezed lime slices in it - Harry watched her prepare her drink both times, finding himself intrigued by her drink of choice.

“You are definitely talented enough,” Y/N says, “from the bit I’ve heard through the walls, you’re great with a guitar and I’m assuming I’m right considering that your job revolves around music.”

“Well, they already have a guitar player,” Harry notes, nodding his head towards Mitch who’s strumming away on his guitar. “And he’s one of the best in the business so if I did have any talent, he wipes me out without a question,” Harry insists.

Y/N is about to respond but then the band is starting to really get into the song. She turns her head, sitting up straight again, and watches the band perform. They’re really good, she thinks and starts to bob her head along to the song. Harry tries to not be obvious, but he stares at her for a few moments before facing the stage to watch his mates as well. He smiles as he watches her get into the music, nodding along with the bass line and tapping her foot to the drums. They’re performing one of Harry’s songs. He had written it a couple years back when he had finally settled into New York, hence the title ‘Ever Since New York’. He didn’t sell the song to any big artist, instead he kept it within his personal folder and when Mitch asked if his and Adam’s band could borrow it Harry said yes. It was one of the few personal songs he would let his friends borrow, others were too much of him to let someone else sing.

Y/N is seriously enjoying herself. The tequila has hit her, settling into her body with a constant buzz, and this band was so good. She’s shamelessly swaying her body in her chair and nodding her head back and forth with the beat. To be fair, so was everyone else at the table. Jenny matched her energy perfectly, even throwing an arm around her shoulders as the course of their third song picked up - Jenny knew the lyrics and sang along, causing the two of them to erupt into laughter afterwards. After Jenny turns her attention back to her husband, Y/N looks at Harry and notices him lightly singing along while bobbing his head too. She smiles and ends up watching him instead of the band for maybe a little too long. He turns his head and catches her stare, raising a brow but she just shakes her head and leans closer to him to ensure he can hear her before speaking.

“They’re really good,” she compliments, “like a lot better than some of the mainstream artists I’ve seen recently,” she adds on just as the band finishes up another song.

“Yeah, they are,” Harry nods in agreement, “but the bands really just a hobby for all of them since they are all involved within the industry already.”

“Oh, that’s sick though,” Y/N says, “not everyone’s hobby includes filling up a dive bar in New York City every weekend with people singing along to your songs,” she exclaims. She had looked around the room earlier during the last song to see it wasn’t just the bandmates' friends that knew the words to their songs. Majority of the people in the bar were singing too, clearly being regulars to their sets.

Amy arrives at their table again, setting down everyone's refills in a rush, thankfully being too busy to stop and flirt with Harry. Is that jealousy, Y/N? She questions herself in her head. She ignores her thoughts and brings her new drink to her lips, not even bothering with the lime slices this time as she’s feeling a bit drunk now and honestly could care less. As the band opens their next song with some strong drums and an incredible electric guitar melody, the crowd goes a bit crazy. Y/N furrows her brows and looks at the people at her table, Tom and Jenny are also hollering at the band while Harry is chuckling. He meets her eyes before echoing the crowd and cheering on his friends. Y/N’s eyes widen and she huffs out a laugh before she grabs her phone quickly and opens her Instagram.

Just in time, she opens her Instagram stories as the song picks up and the small crowd that had formed overtime at the front of the stage starts to dance around. Everyone is cheering and singing along, causing Y/N’s jaw to drop in pure amazement. She holds down the button to record and gets a quick ten second video of the band rocking out while the bar sings and goes nuts as the bass line played by Adam kicks in and their drummer flings his body around to play one of the most addicting beats they’ve played so far. Y/N shakes her head and swipes a filter on before tapping on the screen, turning to face Harry - who’s already watching her, of course.

“Does the band have an Instagram?” She asks. To which Harry just shrugs in response, because he really isn’t too sure - he’s not hugely into social media himself.

“They do!” Jenny says with excitement, Y/N turns in her seat and grins at Jenny as she spells out the bands Instagram handle. “I keep trying to get them to stay active on it but they barely do,” she states.

Y/N slips her drink that she holds in one hand and taps ‘post to story’ on her phone that in her other hand. “Well, they might get, like, a few notifications flood in since I tagged them in my story,” Y/N tells her.

“Oh yeah?” Jenny questions. “Are you big on Insta?”

“It’s kind of grown over the years, I just hit half a million last week actually,” Y/N states. Her words cause both Jenny and Tom’s jaws to drop. Suppose it’s quite a big number, Y/N thinks.

“That’s insane, oh my god,” Jenny says, “is social media like your job then?” She asks. Y/N notices how both Tom and Harry are more interested in hearing about her Instagram than the band’s next song, to be fair it is a slower tune, but still it shocks her a bit.

“Um, not really,” Y/N licks her lips, “I have a career at a fashion studio in the city, we style the city’s elite and some celebrities, do their personal shopping and all that. But the social media thing is really just a little add on, I guess,” Y/N explains, pausing a few times as she feels a bit nervous telling them about her following. Some people saw it as a clout thing, asking for shoutouts and tags so her followers would get their follower count up. While others thought it was childish and weird that she was kind of like an influencer in a way.

“Wow,” Harry says, his voice gets Y/N’s attention as she looks towards him now, “how didn’t I know this?” He questions with a chuckle.

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “it’s really just like a hobby, barely even that.”

“Like how the band is for Mitch and Adam,” Harry nods.

Y/N smiles and nods with him, “exactly.”

“You’re definitely the coolest girl Harry knows, by the way,” Jenny states, bringing Y/N’s attention back to her left where she sat. Y/N laughs and brushes her hair back over her shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” Y/N disagrees and shakes her head, reaching for her drink again to take a few sips.

“No, you definitely are,” Harry corrects her, having a sip of his own drink as well. Y/N puts down her glass and smiles, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into her seat.

“I mean, if you say so,” she says in a joking tone. Jenny, Tom and Harry all chuckle, which makes Y/N laugh along with them. The band is talking to the crowd now, mentioning that their weekly gig will not be happening next week due to the holidays. Then they’re explaining something about their next and final song, thanking the crowd before the song starts up.

“This was their first song as a band,” Tom tells Y/N. She smiles and nods, appreciating the insight from him.

The song is catchy, still fitting the bands vibe but definitely isn’t as good as some of the other songs they had played already. Y/N decides to take a final snap of the band on stage on her Instagram story. Mitch’s head is down, his hair falling forward that she can barely tell that it’s him, while Adam is grinning at the crowd which makes Y/N smile as she swipes on a filter to lighten the picture some and types out ‘new fave band alert’ as her caption, finding a red siren gif quickly before posting it to her story. As the song comes to an end the bar erupts into a roar of cheers. Y/N brings her hands to her mouth and hollers along with the bar, grinning as she watches the four boys of the band come together and bow. As they bend down Harry whistles, having both his hands at his mouth, to show his support to his friends.

Y/N widens her eyes and turns quickly to look at Harry, surprised by the loud whistle that came from him. He matches her look, widening his eyes and playing dumb as he slowly lowers his hands from his face. Y/N laughs, slapping a hand on his arm and leaning back, immensely entertained by his actions. Harry laughs along with Y/N till they both calm down and shake their heads. Just as Y/N is about to say something her phone starts to buzz on the table from an incoming call. She looks down at the screen and sees it’s Mark - again.

“Ugh,” Y/N groans and hits decline, unlocking her phone to go to her phone app. “How the hell do you block a phone number?” She asks aloud to no one in particular.

“Is it Mark?” Harry questions in a low voice, leaning towards Y/N to keep his words between them. Y/N frowns but nods her head once. The tequila in her system starts to mess with her, her screen becoming fuzzy as she thinks about all the crap she learnt about Mark earlier today. And now he was ruining her fun out with Harry and his friends.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Y/N asks, turning to Jenny since she would know the location of the women's bathroom over Harry.

“Down the hall in the back corner over there,” she points in that direction and before anyone else can say something Y/N is on her feet with her phone in hand and heading to the bathroom.

Harry looks over his shoulder as he monitors Y/N’s move across the bar. He’s worried about her, obviously, but he’s also watching to make sure no douche bag makes a grab for her. Although he is sure that she could handle it herself. As he turns back to the table he sees both Tom and Jenny staring at him. Harry furrows his brows and brings his drink to his lips, having the final sip of his third drink tonight. Jenny just shakes her head and looks down at her phone, he’s pretty sure she’s looking up Y/N’s Instagram. Tom’s still staring at Harry though.

“What?” Harry finally asks, setting his glass down with the few other empty ones at the centre of the table.

“So,” Tom pauses, “what’s going on here?” He questions, being annoyingly vague.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, trying his hardest to not roll his eyes.

“Well you just show up with this bombshell of a woman, who is beyond anything you could’ve described her as by the way, and we’re all just supposed to forget she’s in a relationship?” Tom questions, tilting his head just slightly to the side as he stares down Harry.

“Firstly, I’m insulted you don’t think we could just be friends,” Harry says, he’s about to continue but Mitch and Adam join the table again. They get a round of ‘good job’ from everyone before Mitch is turning to Harry and furrowing his brows.

“What were you saying before?” He asks.

“That it is just possible for Y/N and I to be friends, but also not that it’s any of your guys business cause it’s not even mine, but her and her boyfriend broke up, like, recently,” Harry informs his friends, dragging his fingertip along the condensation of his empty glass in front of him. He feels silly, having to explain himself for simply bringing along a friend to hangout tonight. But he can’t deny it feels good to know that she is single now. Only to feel bad a second later as he knows that Y/N must be hurting, judging by her drowning herself in tequila drinks and getting upset over Mark calling her.

“Well, shit,” Mitch breathes out. Harry lifts his gaze to find his best mate with his usual smug look on his face. “What are you waiting for then, loverboy, make a move,” Mitch coaxes him.

“Did you not hear me when I said they broke up recently? As in maybe I should just let that settle for a while before I try and make any sort of move,” Harry says.

“Well if you don’t eventually and you let this one go, then you’re a bloody idiot,” Adam resorts, “Y/N is a prize, one evening knowing her and I understand your little crush, H,” he adds with a smile.

“Trust me,” Harry huffs out a breath and shakes his head a bit, “I’m well aware. But seriously guys, I’m just going to let it play out and not force anything. I’m happy to just be her friend, honestly,” he explains. Everyone nods, seeming to understand where Harry is at now with Y/N. Perfect timing, Amy shows up with refills for everyone to get the attention of the group off Harry.

“So, Harry,” Amy says after setting down everyone glasses, turning her body away from Jenny and the empty chair for Y/N to completely face him - her boobs practically in his face. He gives her a polite smile, leaning back in his chair in order to get some distance from her. “Who’s this new girl you brought with you? A cousin or something?” She asks, her body seeming to lean even further towards him as she speaks.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to let Amy know her ridiculous assumptions were wrong. When he hears Y/N’s voice from behind where Amy stood. “Classy,” she mutters under her breath.

Amy rolls her eyes rather dramatically before she turns away from Harry and looks at Y/N as she’s pulling out her chair and returning to her seat. “What did you say?” Amy asks, her voice rather snarky in Y/N’s opinion.

“I said, wow you’re hair colour, it’s like, so classy, I love it,” Y/N resorts, putting on a smile just as fake as her words.

Amy’s lips part, her eyes narrowing at Y/N’s bored stare. Whatever bitchy response she has lined up for Y/N is cut short as Amy’s name is being yelled by the bartender. Her gaze falls behind Y/N, looking at who had called for her, before she meets Y/N’s eyes again. She glares again, huffs out a short breath, and then is nearly stomping away from the table like a child who didn’t get the Barbie doll she wanted to play with - or rather the Ken doll. Y/N’s lips turn up slightly into a smug smile as a feeling of pride flushes over her.

“Yup, it’s official,” Jenny says, bringing Y/N back to reality as she looks away to her left. Jenny is grinning as she brings an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into her side. “You’re one hundred percent the coolest girl Harry knows,” she states, earning a round of laughter from the group.

“You handled Amy like a pro,” Adam notes, then jutting his chin towards Harry, “H is always too nice to let her know how annoying she’s being.”

Y/N smiles and looks at Harry in the corner of her eye, noticing the slight tint of pink upon his cheeks. She flips her hair over her shoulder and shrugs, “I grew up dealing with the snobby Upper East Side kids, Amy is harmless, believe me,” Y/N ensures the group before grabbing for her drink and sucking back a few good gulps.

The group around the table begins to talk about the performance, compliments and praises to Mitch and Adam all around of course. Even a few strangers come up to give them a pat on the back and ask for a picture. They’re like royalty in this dingy little bar.

Y/N is enjoying sitting back and simply being around people, letting herself push away any thoughts of Mark. She had blocked his number while she waited in line for the washroom, then responded to Sammy’s million texts asking where she was and with who - when she told him she was with Harry he just replied with ‘#TeamHarry for the win’, which she rolled her eyes at but ended up smiling down at her phone and texting him a thumbs up back.

When Y/N finished with her business in the rather dirty washroom - the sink barely even worked, it was not ideal - and she saw Amy at the table beside Harry again, Y/N let her jealousy fly. Then when Amy started leaning so far into Harry that her boobs nearly touched his chest, Y/N just couldn’t help it. It was like her vision turned red suddenly, her chest swelling up as she tried to bite down on her tongue. But she couldn’t, she was too annoyed by Amy’s less than classy actions towards her customer.

“Hey,” Harry’s low voice snaps Y/N out of her own world. She blinks and focuses on him, feeling herself melt at the sight of his smile. “Are you okay?” He asks, more than likely referring to her quick departure to the bathroom after Mark called.

“Yeah,” she assures him with a smile and a nod. “I blocked his number, I don’t want to hear his excuses. I could really care less,” she explains to Harry. He nods in response and is about to say something else, about how Mark is a real idiot for whatever he did to hurt her. But Y/N sits up, places a hand on his arm that was resting on the table between then, and gives him another smile. “But enough about him, seriously, I’m feeling a little drunk and having way too much fun here with you to be bothered anymore,” Y/N tells him.

“Alright,” Harry smiles, peering at Y/N as his heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s pretty sure his skin’s tingling from where her hand rests. But it doesn’t last long before she moves, reaching for her glass - that she then raises into the air.

“I would like to make a toast,” Y/N announces to the table, gaining everyone’s attention and smiles, “to Mitch and Adam’s absolutely amazing performance, new friends, and to having a lovely holiday season,” Y/N beams as Harry and his friends cheer in agreement and everyone lifts their glasses into the air.

The group ends up buying shots after, then another round of drinks, and then more shots. Y/N is laughing so much her stomach hurts. She hasn’t been this happy while enjoying others' company in far too long, outside of work of course. Harry makes another joke, teasing Adam, but Adam dishes it back right away. Y/N finds herself letting her hand slip to Harry’s thigh as she throws her head back with laughter at Adam’s absurd comment. Everyone else is too focused on the banter to notice, but Harry does of course. He’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels her delicate fingers spread over his thigh. He gulps, unsure if he wants to break whatever drunken trance that Y/N may be in. Does she realize that she’s put her hand on his thigh? He wonders. But his thoughts are quickly answered as she caresses her thumb along his pants before lifting her hand slowly off of him altogether.

Y/N’s leaning on her elbow again, her chin propped up in the palm of her hand as she looks at Harry. He’s so hot, her drunk self thinks as she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down for a second time since she had placed her hand on his thigh. It happened by accident to be honest, but she wasn’t sorry about it. God, she was just itching to touch Harry. His thigh, his arm, maybe rub gentle circles on the back of his neck as he talked amongst his friends, but she wanted to touch his lips more than anything. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty pink lips as he replies to whatever whoever said to him.

Harry catches Y/N’s glossy eyes staring at him in the corner of his eye. He rolls his lips into his mouth to stop himself from smiling. He likes how she can’t seem to keep her eyes off of him, because he does the same thing maybe a little too often. Harry turns his head and meets her gaze, giving her a smirk as she playfully narrows her eyes at him. Her cheeks are rosy from the amount of liquor she’s consumed, while her eyes truly are a bit glossed over from her being more than tipsy. She’s so hot, he thinks, as his eyes shamelessly roam over her appearance. Even hours later at this shitty bar and she still looks breathtaking. Harry’s gaze lingers a little too long on her chest, admiring the way the top fit her breasts; was she wearing a bra? Oh how he wishes he could find out.

Y/N adjusts her position in her chair, letting her left arm fall into her lap while she lays her right arm beside Harry’s. She is liking this game they seem to be playing with their eyes. She sits up straight, knowingly sticking out her chest just a bit as she watches Harry’s eyes fall to her breasts. But she keeps it classy, of course, unlike some people. Y/N lets out a breathy sigh as she looks at Harry’s hand mere inches away from her right hand. Those rings, she thinks, they could do some real damage. Her thighs clench involuntarily, her mind falling into a fog as she imagines them leaving red marks on her bare bottom or how cool they would feel against her throat.

“I really like your rings, have I told you that before?” Y/N’s voice is hoarse, but she doesn’t care as her pinky reaches over to touch the large gold ‘S’ that rests on his pinky. The metal is cool to her touch, just as she imagines. Feeling brave - thanks to her good friend, tequila - she lifts her hand slightly in order to comfortably drag her fingertip over the ‘S’ shape a couple times.

“No, you-” Harry clears his throat, feeling it become dry at the sight of her doe eyes staring at his fingers. His mind goes somewhere dirty, thinking of somewhere else his fingers could go. Tangled in her hair, wrapped around her throat, inside of her. Harry licks his lips before he speaks again, “you haven’t, but thank you.”

“Which is your favourite?” Y/N questions, her finger still lazily tracing the ring on his pinky finger.

“Quite like the inicals,” Harry answers, smirking as she glances up to peer at him through her lashes. She mirrors his smug look easily.

“A very narcissistic answer,” Y/N hums, teasing him. Harry playfully narrows his eyes at her, which she returns but ends up giggling after a moment as he sticks out his tongue at her. These inappropriate thoughts have got to just slide away for a moment, Y/N thinks with a deep breath.

“We’re going to head out,” Tom announces to the table suddenly, helping Jenny out of her chair. Jenny’s beautiful dazzling smile is on her husband as he helps her into her coat. They’ve both had quite a bit to drink too and Harry notes how Jenny latches onto Tom’s side after they’re in their coats.

“I’m still shocked you two both came out tonight,” Harry says.

“We paid big bucks for this babysitter, so they better keep it together for at least another four hours,” Tom exclaims with a wink. Jenny gasps and smacks her husband on the chest as she realizes what Tom is insinuating.

“Don’t go acting like you last longer than ten minutes, bud,” Mitch taunts jokingly to his friend. Everyone laughs as Tom glares at Mitch across the table. Y/N covers her mouth with her hands, finally bringing her finger away from where it laid on Harry’s ‘S’ ring, in order to cover her chuckles.

“It was so lovely to meet you, Y/N,” Jenny gushes, letting go of Tom in order to put her arms around Y/N and hugging her tightly.

Y/N smiles into her bleached hair, squeezing her back just as tightly, “you too, Jenny,” she says.

“Don’t let H keep hiding you away now,” she says, pointing a stern finger at the two of them. Harry laughs and shakes his head at his friend.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jenny,” he tells her.

Then they’re all saying goodbye to the couple as they walk out of the half empty bar. Y/N glances around the place, noticing how it feels less scary now. Maybe it was the tequila that helped, or how comfortable she felt around Harry and his friends. A yawn suddenly makes it’s way past Y/N’s lips, she brings the back of her hand to cover it but ends up squinting her eyes closed as her whole body feels drained. She meets Harry eyes after the yawning stops, he shows her a small soft smile that makes her return it right back.

“Ready to go home?” He asks. She contemplates it for a moment, because she truthfully doesn’t want the night to end. But she decides to not fight it and nods to Harry.

Harry does practically the same thing as Tom just had. He announces his and Y/N’s departure, helps her into her coat, and lets her say her goodbyes as Adam opens his arms up for a big warm hug. Mitch only nods, waving to them both before Harry leads the way out of the bar. The cold night air blasts Y/N’s hair back, the sharp wind taking her by surprise as she blinks back tears from the cold. She puts both her hands into her coat pockets and zips it up all the way, snuggling into the warmth it will provide her on their walk home.

“I feel like Mitch doesn’t like me much,” Y/N admits after a few minutes of comfortable silence between her and Harry.

“What?” Harry shakes his head, eyebrows pinched together. “No, that’s just how he is. He’s quiet and looks all moody. Give him some time, he’ll warm up, promise.”

“I think he’s just protective of you,” Y/N says, looking up at Harry after they cross the road, “thinks I’m a threat or something.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head again,“well, it’s definitely not like that with Mitch and I, plus he’s seeing someone. Her name’s Sarah, she plays drums on a lot of tracks we write.”

“If you say so,” Y/N sighs. She looks around at the sights before them. A few other mildly drunk people wander the streets, and she notices a few homeless people too, that tore Y/N’s heart apart, as they were bunkering down in the alleyways. Harry keeps pace with Y/N the whole walk home, letting her control the speed they walked and what they talked about. She would jump from subject to subject the entire time, but Harry thought it was kinda cute that she was so drunk she didn’t even realize how quickly she changed the topic.

And all too soon, they’re in the elevator in their apartment building. Harry presses the number six button and joins Y/N on the back wall. They both lean into the railing, comfortable silence falling between them once again. But it was obviously their thoughts were anything but silent. The elevator doors open on their floor, and Harry lets her walk out first as always.

“Well this is me,” Y/N says dramatically as she approaches her apartment door. Harry chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly and letting his eyes fall to the floor for a second before meeting Y/N’s stare again. “I really did have a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells him.

“I’m glad, I did too,” he agrees.

Y/N wants to kiss him. She really really really does. But they’re both a little drunk, and she literally just broke up with Mark yesterday - or maybe technically two days ago now since it’s past midnight. But it didn’t matter, she didn’t want to be that girl. Plus she wanted to really get to know Harry and take this slow and see where it went. That didn’t stop her gaze from falling to his pretty pink lips though. Harry’s thoughts are running laps too. He wants to kiss her. But he knows she’s more than likely still hasn’t recovered fully emotionally from her break up Mark, hell not even ten hours ago she was crying because of her shitty ex boyfriend. Didn’t mean he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her though, especially when her gaze falls to his lips.

Just as quickly as they seemed to fall into some dream like state as thoughts of kissing each other float around them, they snap back to reality. Y/N blinks a few times and takes a step back, bumping into her front door. Harry clears his throat and steps back as well, towards his own front door.

“Polar Express,” Y/N says suddenly, earning a look of confusion from Harry. “We’re watching the Polar Express tomorrow, and you’re going to play me something on that guitar of yours.”

Harry lets out a chuckle and gives Y/N a smirk, “yeah, we’ll see about that.”

“You will,” she singsongs as she focuses on unlocking her door. It takes a few extra tries to get the key in but once she does she unlocks it and opens the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry smiles.

“Goodnight, H,” Y/N says softly, smiling as well, as she leans against her door to look back at him. Harry’s smile deepens at her using his nickname. She must’ve picked it up from his friends using it earlier during their time at the bar.

She gives him one last look over, knowing very well that she’s going to dream about him in that cream and blue plaid jacket - and maybe only wearing that jacket - before she shuts her door and presses her back against it as it closes. Today was a lot. But she’s beyond grateful that Harry invited her out, introducing her to his wildly unique group of wonderful friends, and letting her get a little bit drunk too. Her chest flares up as she remembers their close moment at the bar, her touching his rings, placing her hand on his thigh-

“Oh god,” Y/N all but moans out as her thoughts go right back to the place they were at before.

She shakes her head and heads to her bedroom. Harry wouldn’t be able to hear a vibration from the other side of the wall, would he? Y/N shrugs and opens her bedside table drawer to grab her vibrator, knowing just how much she needed it tonight as she imagined Harry’s hand between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so screwed, she thinks, biting her lip as she realizes, she really really really likes Harry.

>> part four <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

#harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #1dff #cstsyl #omg this took me so long i know but i really really like it and hope u guys to do!!

[peach-pops]

Hi! Can I requests a HC with Suga, Kageyama, and Noya where they go into Ukais store and they completely fall head over heels for the girl behind the register ( she can be related to Ukai or just works there for him)

This is my first request! Make sure you guys like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed it and requests are open! 

Suga, Kageyama, and Noya develop a crush on Ukai’s new employee 

➣Sugawara

One day after practice, Suga finds himself heading to Ukai’s store with Daichi and Asahi because they’ve been craving those steamed pork buns and since it was Daichi’s turn to pay for food, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse 

He’s definitely an advocate for “Free food is the best food” 

#sugardaddydaichi

The boys walk into Sakanoshita and Suga is the first to notice a new girl standing behind the counter who is reading the newspaper with her legs propped up just like a mini Ukai

Instead of a cigarette between her lip, she has a stick of chocolate pocky in her mouth 

Suga thinks you are SO cute and he can’t stop staring at you but once you look up from your newspaper to lock eyes with him, he averts his gaze and continues to walk forward, only to bump into one of the shelves by accident 

“ Woah, you okay suga?” Daichi asks as he turns around to face his friend

“ GAH I’m fine!”

Suga hears you let out a small giggle as you went back to your newspaper and pretended to act uninterested in the boy, even though you knew fully well that he was reallllllly cute

Daichi is a smart boy and he can clearly tell that Suga is completely flustered over you but decides to say nothing for now while Asahi is deciding between which flavor drink he should get 

He’s oblivious, aren’t all aces? 

The boys grab their buns and head over to the counter where you greet them extra politely because you are an underpaid customer service worker who is just genuinely nice a cute boy is in front of you and you wanna make a nice impression

“ Okay, you’re all set,  is there anything else I can do for you guys?” You asked sweetly as Daichi looks over to Suga who’s cheeks are getting flushed

Daichi gets Asahi’s attention and nods over to the door,” We’ll be outside Suga, don’t take too long.” 

Suga’s eyes practically are pleading with Daichi saying “ Please don’t leave me I think I’m choking on my own tongue” but Daichi just laughs and walks out with a confused Asahi trailing behind him 

Suga just tries to calm himself down because he knows the goal is to make a nice impression and hopefully set up a date so he can see you again 

“ From the way you were sitting, I imagine you’re related to Ukai? ”

Suga immediately regrets this approach because now he sounds like a weird stalker but you don’t think anything of his question

“ Mhm, I’m his niece Y/N, how do you know him?” 

He replays your name out loud and for some reason it makes him smile even more

You being Ukai’s niece doesn’t really make Suga panic even though the thought of crushing on his coaches niece seems like he is crossing some sort of moral line

Suga tells you that he plays volleyball for Karasuno and that your uncle is also his coach which lights up your face 

“ No kidding, what a small world! I would love to come out and cheer you on. When’s the next game?”

Suga short circuits for a second because you specifically said you would cheer him on instead of the team as a whole

“ S-sure! There’s one next week if you want to come .ANDmaybewecangetsomethingtoeatafter!” 

“ Sounds like a plan, its a date,” You smiled as Suga nods excitedly before rushing out of the store without another word 

“ Did I just hear her say that Ukai is her uncle?” Asahi asked as the three of them walked down the street

Suga nods and blabs on about his interaction with you but Asahi and Daichi look at each other the whole time as they think of how screwed Suga will be once Ukai finds out

➣Kageyama

Kageyama never really heads to Ukai’s store unless he’s with his teammates but one day when he’s out jogging, he forgets his water bottle so he decides to stop by Sakanoshita to grab a drink since he knows he won’t be able to run much longer in this heat 

He steps into the store and he’s blessed with not only the blasting AC but the sight of a girl around his age refilling the drinks in the fridge

Kags can only see the side of your face but even then, he feels his heart skip a beat 

He’s never felt anything like this before so he’s convinced he’s about to have a heart attack but then the unsettling thought hits him as he’s just standing there in the middle of the store with his wallet out 

“ She’s really pretty” and Kageyama doesn’t even realize he’s said this OUT LOUD until you turn around and give him a shy smile

“ Um, thank you, you too”

Kageyama wants to just run out of the store because he is so embarrassed and he can feel the back of his neck and ears heat up as he contemplates leaving

And that’s EXACTLY what he does!!!!

The dude just leaves without buying anything and decides to just run back home because he is MORTIFIED 

You’re kinda bummed out because “damn, I scared another one off this week” but you realize that he dropped his wallet as he was sprinting out so you knew he’d be back

You didn’t look through his wallet, all you did was put it in one of the drawers at the register and continued on with your day as usual 

Just kidding, you totally looked through it and founds his Karasuno school ID and when you saw he was a first-year too, you mentally gave yourself a high five

Kageyama on the other time is freaking out because not only did he lose his wallet, he is so sure that the last time he had it was at Ukai’s store which means he has to see you again

He decides to wait until later that night to show up because he thinks maybe Ukai will be there instead-but sure enough when he shows up, you’re still sitting behind the counter and this time, he can see your whole face as you’re doing homework 

And his heart stops when he sees that you’re wearing a Karasuno school uniform because he could’ve sworn he would’ve recognized someone as pretty as you around the hallways

He’s never felt this way about any girl before and now, he slightly regretted not listening to Tanaka’s advice on how to pick up girls because he was felt so lost on what to do 

You could feel someone staring at you but when you turned your head up, you found yourself almost glad to see him

“ Oh hey Tobio! Did you come back for something?” 

His brain short circuits for the millionth time because hardly anyone calls him by his first name and he figures you probably went through his wallet 

Kageyama sheepishly nods as he heads over to the counter. You don’t even understand how hard it is for Kageyama to even talk to you

Cause granted, he’s talked to girls before like Kiyoko and Yachi but never a girl he was interested in because until now, he never even found himself attracted to girls 

You hand him his wallet as you defend yourself, saying that you only went through it to find his address so you could return it after your shift  

he apologizes over and over again on how much it was a burden for you to keep his wallet for the day

All you could do was laugh at how absurd this whole situation was and your laugh made Kageyama tense up because even your laugh was attractive 

He made sure to keep that in his head though 

Kageyama doesn’t know why his feet are practically cemented in front of you but he just doesn’t want to leave

He makes up any excuse and looks down at your math homework and thinks of an idea

“ Oh, do you need help with that?”

And Kageyama feels so stupid because why the hell did he just offer to help you with math homework when he only has one working braincell

You look down at your homework and back up at him,” You know this stuff?”

Kageyama looks at you before swallowing hard and shakes his head,” No…I’m actually really bad”

You giggle at his attempt at trying to be helpful but you nod back towards your homework,” Well don’t worry, I have math under control...If you want I can tutor you sometime?”

Kageyama almost says yes way too quickly before he pretends to think it over in his head and happily accepts your offer

You smile back at him before grabbing a sticky note and scribbling your name and number on a piece of paper,” Call me whenever, yeah?” 

You know that face Kageyama makes where his smile is super weird and squiggly? Well thats the exact face he has as he takes the piece of paper and tells you goodnight

And you can bet everything you have that he immediately rushes home and pulls out his homework just so he can have an excuse to call you up 

➣Nishinoya 

Nishinoya frequently visits Ukai’s store even if it’s out of the way because he likes to see a familiar face 

And also tries to bargain a “family discount” to which Ukai always denies him 

So one night Noya feels a sudden craving for literally anything that isn’t within his own house and he just decides to go drop by Sakanoshita to annoy Ukai out of a free bag of chips

“ Oi Ukai-” Noya stops in his tracks when he sees a girl around his age carrying a big box of products out from the back of the store

He is completely SMITTEN for you right away and in the back of his mind he’s like Kiyoko who? 

He had been going to Ukai’s for a long time but he had never saw you around before so already his mind was thinking of who you could be 

“ She’s too pretty to be Ukai’s daughter- he isnt even married why would he have a daughter-unless his wife left him with a baby and that’s why he’s grumpy all the time- wait but aren’t babies made by having-”

Noya kinda snaps out of it as you let out a small grunt while you’re trying to balance the two boxes on top of each other

Lets be real, Noya is the number one women respecter so when he sees you somewhat struggling, he rushes over and helps take some of the weight off of you

You could feel your load lighten but you still keep your hand on the box,“ I got it, it’s fine!”

“ No, please let me help! You’re too pretty to carry heavy things, you need a big strong man to help!” 

He didn’t mean for it to sound so unfeminist because again, he loves women as much as Hinata loves volleyball but he just didn’t want you to hurt yourself

You guide him where to set the boxes and they’re way heavier than Noya anticipated but since he wanted to impress you, he tried to play it off like it wasn’t even that heavy 

“ Thanks for the help, I hate making multiple trips” You said as you crouched down and opened up the boxes. When you look up at the boy for the first time, you feel your heart skip a beat because duh, cute stranger alert and Noya was feeling the exact same way 

“ I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Noya smiled and introduced himself and when you said your full name, Noya felt like his mind had exploded

“ Woah! I know him, he’s my volleyball coach- I’m Karasuno’s libero-that’s the school I go to- and he owns the store- but you probably already know that- I’ve never seen you around before, are you new?” 

When Noya gets excited, he has a tendency to talk people’s ear off but you found it so amusing and almost endearing 

“ Yep, today’s my first day. It’s been pretty hectic but it keeps me pretty busy for the most part.”

“ You know, I’m here all the time so I practically own the store myself. If you need any manly assistance, I could help you- like right now- do you want me to stock these chips? The cheesy ones are my favorite what about you?” 

You didn’t want to burden him but after trying to convince him you were fine doing it by yourself, you just gave up and decided that it would be quicker with him by your side

It would’ve taken you about an hour to stock whatever was left but with Noya’s help, you two managed to get it done in 20 minutes. While you closed up the shop, he even offered to walk you home because “ someone as pretty as you shouldn’t walk home without a bodyguard” 

You happily accepted your offer because hellooooo any excuse to hang out with him longer worked for you! 

When you got to your house, you gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek to thank him and for extra measure, you pulled out a bag of cheesy chips from your coat

Noya practically fell to his knees once you closed your front door and he was simping so hard for you that everytime he wasn’t busy with volleyball, he would close up the shop with you and walk you home

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu!! hc #karasuno x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smau #sugawara x reader #suga x reader #haikyuu smut #koshi x reader #koshi sugawara x reader #sugawara headcanon #kageyama #kageyama x reader #sugawara #suga #kageyama smut #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama #nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #noya x reader #yu nishinoya #yu nishinoya x reader #noya

[myfearless-love]

The Wildest Place You Run (2/?) - Hold the Front

Thanks to everyone who commented on the first chapter or reblogged, liked the story written for @cssns! Here’s the next one; I plan on posting chapters every Sunday. Thank you to my awesome beta and artist @thejollyroger-writer! Check out her amazing art for the first two chapters! Enjoy!

Summary:

Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation...

Chapter: 2/? - Hold the Front

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Rating: M

Relationships: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Read on: FF.net or AO3

Words: ~4.7k

Previous parts:

Ch 1

TW for this chapter: Depictions of violence and blood

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"There was nothing you could have done," said Mary Margaret as she shook her head.

Emma couldn't even count just how many times she had heard this sentence from her. She wanted to believe her friend, but she never could. If she had been faster, if she had noticed the danger sooner… Maybe she could have saved Neal that terrible night.

It had happened more than half a year ago, but the screams still echoed in her ears as sharply as they had that night. The image of the pile of bodies, the blood, and the burning building was forever seared into her memory. But the most terrifying minutes weren't caused by these pictures. Neal's death changed everything…

He was a Hunter, just like her half-brother, David, with the difference that no elven blood flowed through his veins, any more than it did in hers. They both served the Guild and that was what caused Neal's demise. He and her brother were among the first to be called to the front lines…

The light of the full moon covered the entire clearing, and it danced on the mirror of the lake. The weather was relatively pleasant, a balmy breeze sailing through the early June night. It ruffled the fresh, green grass of the meadow, welcomely cooling down her hot face.

Lying side by side, they had been staring wordlessly at the sea of stars for some time. She really wanted to tell him, but she didn't know how he would handle it. She tasted the words a few times in front of the mirror in practice, but found none of them appropriate.

She just watched him, even now she could hardly believe he loved her. Just her. She'd never believed she was good enough to deserve anyone's love, but Neal still saw something in her. It was true, of course, that it took almost two years for their paths to cross (and her infatuation to be reciprocated), but in the end, her intuitions proved to be correct.

There was no one for her but Neal. Maybe the statement was slightly inaccurate, but the few people she'd been with left her within days, weeks, or months, saying they just couldn't learn to love her. She accepted it, because what could she have done? She loved them in vain…

She had already given up on ever being with Neal too, when what she had been waiting for finally happened.

He tore her from her contemplation. He turned on his side, propped himself on his elbow, and gently drew her to him. "What's wrong?" He brushed a lock of her fallen hair behind her ear and smiled kindly at her.

"Nothing's wrong," she whispered in response, snuggling even closer to him.

"Are you sure? You've been acting so… weird," he gently stroked her curly, long blonde hair and gave her an unwaveringly angelic smile. His brown eyes lit up brightly, the corners crinkling faintly.

At any given time, she could completely get lost in those orbs.

"Of course. Everything's fine," she assured him, though the desire to just tell him was burning her inside. But she still couldn't find the words and hesitated. How would he react?

"If you say so…"

His gaze drifted to her lips, and she could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. She didn't have to wait long, he slid his palm under her head and rolled over her in moments. His lips tasted hers gently. It was sweet, hot, and passionate all at once, gradually deepening until their tongues met. Suddenly, his body weighed on her. Although not at full weight, he still took her breath away.

It wasn't painful, but he wasn't exactly a lightweight, and the movement gave her a fright.

"Could you…" she moaned in a low voice, but he seemed to understand.

He braced himself on his hands, and she could finally breathe. "Sorry," he smiled apologetically.

"Neal," she finally managed to gather her thoughts.

"Yes?" He scanned her face curiously, his expression momentarily uneasy at the uncertainty he probably saw in her eyes.

"I…" she couldn't continue, she just stared at him, hoping he would understand.

"What's wrong?" His gaze turned suspicious.

"I… I'm… pregnant," she said, breaking eye contact and waiting with bated breath for his reaction. She knew for a fact that he loved her, but they were still so young and they never talked about it.

For a few seconds, he only stared at her with widened eyes. Her face immediately felt hot. It looked like it was the last thing he'd expected to leave her mouth. It must have felt like an ice-cold shower.

Then, to her greatest surprise, a wide grin suddenly spread across his face, and he opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. His instinctively gaze slid to her stomach, followed by his hands.

"You're not kidding, are you? How… How long have you known?"

"No, I'm not kidding. Not too long, I wasn't sure until this morning," she replied quietly, but she was already smiling from the huge weight that had fallen from her heart. She had to admit, she hadn't expected that reaction.

Neal still didn't quite know what to say, and Emma slowly sat up. But before she could prepare herself, he suddenly hugged her tightly.

"You have no idea how happy I am!" He grinned wider and buried his face into her neck.

"I think I can guess," she smiled, then hissed softly. Neal squeezed her too hard. "Relax, tiger," she laughed to herself, and he immediately loosened his grip.

"Sorry. Anyway, I had something planned for the two of us tonight," he remarked, but at the same moment, his phone began to ring."So…" Neal continued, ignoring the call, but she stopped him.

"Pick up. You can always tell me afterward, and it might be important."

"No more important than this," he insisted.

She shook her head disapprovingly, and without hesitation, she dug into his bag to pull out his phone, pressing it into his hands. The caller ID told her it was David. "If I know my brother, you better answer it."

Neal pursed his lips irritably but lifted the phone to his ear. "What?!" he growled at David on the other end, his tone irritated.

The answer clearly didn't lighten his mood, his face made her downright anxious.

"David… I just need half an hour! You can definitely hold the front until then," he almost begged, and Emma found that rather strange.

She began to sharpen her ears with interest.

"Neal! When this is done, you can do it in much quieter and more intimate conditions. We need you now! So get your shit together and get your ass in here!"

David raised his voice so much that even she could understand every single word.

Neal angrily ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. "We have to go," he announced in a grim voice, rising from the ground, helping her.

He idly dusted off his pants, delaying the inevitable as much as possible.

"What happened?"

"The newly settled Vampire clan and the new pack of Werewolves are wreaking havoc in the mall downtown. I need to get there… David and the others need backup," he confessed as he rocked from one foot to the other.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"But…" Neal's gaze shone with fear, and his restlessness had caught her eye, though Emma didn't understand what was wrong with him. Normally, he threw himself into fights like this, but now he seemed hesitant.

"Is there something else?"

"No. Come on, I'll take you home…" He lowered his head, took her hand and they walked back to the black Land Rover LRX parked at the edge of the clearing.

The SUV wasn't his own, legally it belonged to the Guild, but it had been on loan to Neal for some time.

"Neal, we don't have time for that, I'm coming with you," she stated in an authoritative tone, but he just shook his head.

"There are too many creatures there, they've gone completely nuts. I'm not taking you there!"

"Yes, you will! I'm not arguing with you, Neal. And besides, I have the gun David gave me yesterday," she added, trying to convince him. There was no time to waste.

"It's worth very little against them," he said, shaking his head.

"It's filled with silver," she lied easily, just so he would finally relent.

"Why are you so damn stubborn?"

She took that as his agreement, and started running, hearing Neal picking up speed behind her as well. She yanked open the car door and threw herself into the passenger seat. After buckling up, she rummaged in her bag to change the magazine in her Glock. Meanwhile, Neal put the key in the ignition and secured his seatbelt as well.

"Where did it happen?" she asked as they sped through the suburban streets.

"At the new mall. About six hundred people are trapped inside, and they're already being thrown off the roof deck," Neal replied.

The speedometer slowly moved to 55 mph. "Neal, slow down!" Emma hissed through her lips as she squeezed the edge of the seat with whitened fingers.

"You told me to hurry," he grinned, and she rolled her eyes. "What if I dropped you off somewhere?" He gave her a hopeful look, but she shook her head.

"I want to go with you," she declared firmly, and Neal punched the steering wheel in rage.

"You can't come with me! I won't let you, especially now that…" he paused in agitation, then his gaze landed on her, and he looked much more determined. "You're not coming. Period. Get out of the car."

He slammed on the brakes, and the car came to a stop in front of a 24-hour supermarket. He stared at her expectantly. Emma decided to switch tactics, pinning her gaze directly on his crotch.

"Emma, don't look at me like that."

"Then let's go, Neal!"

"No!"

At that moment, his phone started ringing again and David's name flashed on the display.

"Start the car!" she snarled angrily. "If David gets hurt because of us…" She didn't need to finish the sentence, Neal pulled back out onto the road again.

-/-

"You stay here in the car and wait for me. Don't get out unless there's a problem and-"

"Stop it, Neal. I'll be fine, I know how to shoot a gun and I've got good aim!"

"Neal, for God's sake, hurry up!"

Her brother, leaning over the railing of the roof garden, yelled down to them. Much of the three-story building was already in flames, and the glass walls of the first floor lay in tiny shards on the sidewalk, covering the several dozens of bodies that lay in front of the mall.

"Please, Emma, don't come after me. Promise me!"

Emma knew he wouldn't leave until she agreed. "All right, fine," she sighed.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before she could say anything, he pulled his favorite Desert Eagle pistol out of one of his holsters and ran toward the building. She watched him go for a few seconds until he disappeared into the maze of shops.

She nestled uneasily in her seat, and her gun nearly slipped from her hands. Her palms were covered in sweat, and she was growing more nervous by the second. Her courage began to disappear into a bottomless pit.

After a few minutes, she heard a loud crash from her right. Trembling, she raised her gun and looked to the side. At first, she saw nothing, then she noticed a new body among the others. A young boy, probably ten or twelve, lay on the ground, his limbs twisted the wrong way, and a huge pool of blood already growing under his head.

Her stomach began to churn, and she was about to turn her head away from the gruesome sight when another body slammed to the asphalt, just a few feet from the car.

At that moment, she made up her mind. She shoved a spare magazine into her pocket and quickly jumped out of the vehicle. Without looking anywhere, she ran into the mall through one of the shattered windows of a store.

It was a simple, relatively insignificant clothing store, but dozens of women lay on the floor. All of them had had their throats slit open, they were dead, of course, and the floor was soaked with their blood. The cashier, clutching the register, still had a receipt in her hand.

Emma tried to breathe through her mouth and ignore the bodies. Over the years, she'd had the unfortunate opportunity to get used to them, but no matter how many times she encountered one, she could never be completely impervious to it.

She cut through the store and headed straight for the escalator. On her way, she avoided the fountain, its waters already glistening bright red.

When she finally arrived at her destination, she found that the escalator was out of service, so she took two steps at a time and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Both the first and second floors proved empty, but the higher she got, the more the heat from the fire rose to an almost unbearable degree. She tied her sweater around her waist and stopped unsteadily before the last step.

The sounds of the brawl filtered out clearly, not even the loud crackling of the fire could drown them out. For now, the flames hadn't reached dangerous proximity, and luckily, the building was mostly made of non-combustible materials.

Roars, gunshots, crashing. Thunderous explosions. Frozen, Emma lingered at the foot of the stairs leading to the last floor, staring upward hopefully.

Surely everything would be all right. Neal, David, and the others would soon emerge at the top, with smiles on their lips as if nothing had happened. And they would go home safely.

A few minutes passed while she was idle. She had a hard time convincing herself to go upstairs. Neal and David would certainly be furious, but she'd taken their anger any day rather than their deaths. And besides, they would definitely benefit from a little extra help. If it could be classified as such.

She was one of the Mages, but a rather lousy one when it came to her abilities. She was only a low-level Seer, nothing more.

Clutching her Glock with both hands, she came up the stairs. The screams grew sharper and louder. Plenty of people could be stuck upstairs, but the path leading down seemed clear.

What were they waiting for? Why didn't they just run away and escape? Emma found it really strange.

She slowed her pace, confused by the humans' behavior. It just didn't feel right.

The cool, night air blew into her face as soon as she reached the rooftop. Most of the overturned tables and umbrellas were on fire, chairs broken into pieces. Most of them, ironically, were used by Vampires as stakes. They used them as weapons to kill the humans.

After only a few seconds, she heard an angry roar. "Emma, watch out!"

Immediately she spun around looking for the source of the danger. David was the one yelling at her, probably not without reason. She didn't have to search long, she immediately noticed the fully transformed, nearly six-foot-tall Werewolf charging towards her.

She only had a few seconds to react. Someone was calling her name again, desperation clear in their tone. She couldn't deal with that now, she would help them later… if she survived until then because if she missed, she was dead.

She aimed at the beast as best she could, right between its eyes. Her gun was already filled with silver bullets that would stop it. Assuming she hit it at all…

She pulled the trigger and the bullet hit the wolf, inches from her target, right in one of its eyes. He howled in pain and finally came to a stop. She took the opportunity to shoot half the magazine into the wolf.

She gasped for air, her heart pounding in her throat, and slowly she began to realize that the end of her life was a hair's breadth away. She didn't lower the gun, but still clutched it convulsively. The smoke burned her eyes, tears filled them to the brim, and she could see almost nothing. The wind wasn't helping either, carrying the gray mist right into her face. She gasped as if she had just run several miles and her lungs were thoroughly filled with smoke.

She forced herself to open her eyes and look around. She started stumbling through rubble and bodies, but so far she hadn't seen any movement, only heard the sounds. The battle was definitely not over yet.

She walked blindly for a few yards, but her fingers didn't slip from the trigger for even a second. She had to find Neal and David.

At last, she emerged from the cloud of smoke, but she could only blink her eyes, the world looming around her was quite blurry. Instinctively, she crouched against the barricade, for the hail of bullets was almost as thick as the cloud of smoke. A few of them were barely a few inches from her, and she curled up as best she could.

She tried to assess the situation and find her brother and Neal and the other Hunters she knew. Robin and Leo were only a few feet away from her and they both seemed fine. David, on the other hand, was dealing with a Vampire that was dangerously close to the railing.

He was having a hard time with the creature, she could clearly see that. Without thinking, she instinctively crawled towards him, pressing herself against the barrier the whole time. Silver bullets weren't worth much against Vampires, but at least they slowed them down, and the wounds caused by silver left a mark on their perfect skin.

When she was close enough, she fired three shots at the Vampire. She missed the first, the second lodged in his thigh, and the third slammed into his side. He let out a roar and staggered furiously on the bloodied, slippery floor. He lost his balance, toppled over, and finally, David managed to drive a stake through his already-dead heart.

David didn't even look up, he didn't seem to care where the life-saving shot came from, he immediately moved on to his next task.

There were quite a few Hunters here who she didn't recognize. Slowly but surely, they managed to push the Werewolves and Vampires back towards the flames.

Emma quickly wiped her sweaty brow and looked through the ranks of Hunters once more. Neal wasn't among them.

Her heart squeezed in her chest and she turned her head in alarm, but other than the cowering, screaming humans and corpses, she saw nothing.

She stood there confused and turned her head back around the place. There were no other Hunters she hadn't counted yet, every one of them was heading for the beasts.

A few raindrops fell on her face, the wind picked up, and an inhumanly loud rumble of thunder slit through her ears. Followed by a white light zigzagging through the black sky, blinding her for a moment.

"Neal!" her voice echoed like a hysterical scream, but no answer came.

When she opened her eyes again, a tall shadow unfurled from the cloud of smoke that covered the other end of the rooftop garden.

Immediately, she began to run, racing past the glass dome on the third floor. In the depths of the building, the flames grew larger and larger…

"Emma, stop! Don't!" Neal's voice came from the opposite direction, and she paused, turning away from the smoke and the shadow's owner in confusion.

To her surprise, Neal was standing barely ten feet away from her, shirtless. He never had a habit of showing off his body, no matter how nice it was. He had fine abs (not as defined as David's or Robin's), but now he was covered in blood and soot. Water dripped from him and thankfully, she didn't see any wounds.

"Behind you!" he called out to her.

His voice trembled with fear and he raised his pistol to fire, and for a moment it seemed he was aiming for her head. She turned, but it was too late. The elbow of the fast-approaching Vampire landed on her face.

For a few seconds, everything around her went dark, she felt like her face was going to split in two. She staggered, and suddenly the bloody ground came dangerously close to her face, and soon her head hit the ground with a thud.

She squinted her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them again, thankfully the world wasn't spinning in a crazy dance. But she couldn't hear anything. She knelt down and swallowed hard. It was as if a plug had been pulled out of her ears, the sounds returning in one fell swoop. She glanced back at Neal again.

He'd managed to wound the Vampire, but the beast didn't seem to be giving up. He swung his knee into Neal's stomach, wrenching the weapon from his hand, punching him in the face with it. Neal stumbled, but luckily, his legs didn't give out. The bloodsucker grabbed him by the arm, dropped the gun, and whipped out a roughly ten-inch-long blade. He aimed it directly at Neal's heart, but her boyfriend dodged the stab. However, the Vampire held him tight, so he couldn't completely avoid it, the blade digging into his shoulder.

At Neal's scream, her blood froze in her veins, and her hands holding the Glock trembled. Immediately, she took aim at the Vampire. She fired until the magazine was empty. Several bullets drilled into the beast's head and body, and quite a few missed him, too. But she got what she wanted, and the Vampire slumped to the ground. She didn't think he was dead, but she definitely put him out of commission for a while.

Quickly, she rose to her feet and ran to Neal, who was leaning against the barrier, trying to tear the dagger from his flesh. He was panting heavily, blood dripping in thick streams from his shoulder.

She dug out the spare magazine when she reached him and tried to slip it into the pistol, but her hands were still shaking too much.

Then, suddenly, Neal's gun went off. She looked over her shoulder in horror. Five fully transformed Werewolves were galloping toward them. Desperately, she tried to snap the magazine into place, but it was jolting too much in her hands.

She knew she would die if Neal didn't take them out in time, and with his injured shoulder, his aim would hardly be accurate. She tried to force herself to calm down, but the panic coiled in her stomach like an insidious snake. She was finished… They were finished.

Two more shots rang out, and one of the wolves rebounded with a harsh, deep howl. The Glock made a click, and the magazine was finally inserted. She turned to face the monsters. She tried to aim with a clear head, but it was much harder than ever. It wasn't just her life on the line. Hers, Neal's, … and the little one's.

Neal took out the second one with a single shot, and Emma aimed full fire at the one running in front, backing away in the process.

She hit him square in the shoulder, but it was like hitting him with a rock, even though her magazine was filled with silver bullets. Panic rose in her throat and began to thrust backward at double speed. Neal took out the ones closest to them, and she took aim at the ones left behind. If she could just shoot one of their eyes, maybe that one would stop.

She started firing again, trying to focus. But it was too late. They were barely three feet away from her, ready to pounce.

Her body completely locked down, she could only trust in her blind luck and Neal. That was it. Of the two, she had more faith in Neal.

The first wolf leapt up from the ground and nearly swept her away, but Neal's bullets dug into his front legs. He fell forward into the rubble with his muzzle foaming, his legs useless.

She immediately aimed at the next one. This time, she couldn't miss. But the beast was already in the air. It leapt over her head, straight into Neal. She didn't understand why Neal was holding back his power. He could fight off the wolf with his sheer magic, he was powerful enough to simply do so.

Meanwhile, the wounded wolf got up again, but this time his target was Emma. He probably thought the other one would take care of Neal. As she had previously planned, she aimed for the wolf's eyes, but she couldn't hit them. Then the beast was too close to her.

His teeth chattered inches from her throat, and his claws bit into her shoulder. He shoved her away, and she crashed into the barrier. Her side went numb from the force of the blow in moments, but she didn't even have time to comprehend her predicament, the wolf was already towering over her.

She was a hairsbreadth away from having his claws in her stomach as she put the gun to his throat and fired as many bullets into him as she could. The wolf howled, rolling back its eyes, but it raised its huge paw again, and this time it found its target.

Her breath caught in her throat from the blow, and a pained groan escaped her lips. His claws slowly sunk into her stomach, pinning her to the ground, and the wolf weakly opened its jaw, angling for her throat.

Help came from her right, three shots rang out, all hitting the wolf's side. He whimpered one last time and turned away from her…

"Emma, for fuck's sake!" David slid to the ground next to her and knelt down, trembling.

She wanted to ask where Neal was, but her mouth disobeyed. Her brain dulled, she began to go numb. Summoning her remaining reserves of strength, she put her arm around David's neck and forced herself into a sitting position. She screamed against the stabbing pain in her stomach and hunched forward.

"Emma, are you okay?"

It was the dumbest question Neal had ever asked her. But if he was able to ask and, judging by the approaching footsteps, he couldn't be in much trouble…

Her face was streaked with tears, and she tried not to faint. But David suddenly jumped up beside her and ran off.

"David…" she mumbled unintelligibly, then looked up at Neal.

He didn't seem to have suffered another wound. However, he looked immensely exhausted. He was pale and frightened, but thankfully he was walking towards her on his own two feet.

But he, too, stopped and turned his head to the side in surprise. What had they heard that she couldn't?

Finding it hard to keep her eyes open, she blinked shallowly at Neal. He started to retreat to the barrier, his rifle lying on the ground behind him. She forced herself to look back and a sharp cry burst from her exhausted lungs. One of the five Werewolves rushed at him.

The wolf's eyes were bloodshot and every inch of her trembled by his roar, his claws scraping the surface of the ground.

With all its might, it slashed at a helpless Neal. It all happened in a millisecond. The wolf's claws dug into Neal's shoulder, and the momentum pushed them over the barrier. They shattered the glass dome, tangled into each other, and fell into the blazing depths of the building.

#cssns21 #cssns 2021 #cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #killian jones #emma swan #emma x killian #once upon a time #cs au #captain swan supernatural #TWPYR #my fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic

[eatyourchancletas]

SUMMARY |  y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | written by alex and edited by monnie! we are so sorry for not updating since the new year! we decided to upload this mini chapter to provide some background information for the following chapters to come! if you enjoyed this, please reblog, like, and leave some feedback! it’s much appreciated!! please excuse any mistakes!

WORD COUNT | 1.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe​  if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

heeseung held his breath as soon as he caught a glimpse of the door that belonged to y/n’s apartment. it’d been a while since he had been remotely anywhere near it, just the thoughts and flashes of memories being enough to make his knees buckle in anxiety. he felt scared—of what, he didn’t know. maybe he was scared of just being back there or maybe he was scared that y/n really did leave.

he inhaled a deep breath before walking along the carpet that led to the door. beside the door was his mailbox, fastened to the wall. what rose heeseung’s suspicion though, was that the mailbox was overflowing—bills, disclosures, notices, and envelopes of different matters splayed out. the oldest (visible) one dated back as far as two weeks.

after multiple failed attempts of entering the passcode to the door, he bent down to search for the spare key, remembering where y/n placed it. he always thought y/n chose the most foolish spot to leave a means of entry into his home—under the doormat—but now he couldn’t help but feel relieved when the little scrap of metal touched his hand. he went to unlock the door when a voice called out to him.

“hey, what are you doing?”

the nurse jumped in shock, dropping the key as his hand flew to his heart, feeling the thrashing of his heartbeat. he looked over, seeing an elderly woman standing a few doors down. “do you know y/n? i’m looking for him, have you seen him?”

“you haven’t seen him either—the last time i saw that young man was two weeks ago!”

heeseung ran past the other pedestrians, not caring about the curses he’d received from bumping so harshly into them. his mind was in a state of frenzy—not even y/n’s neighbors had seen him. where is he?

he suddenly stopped, bending over to catch his breath, hands on his knees and lungs screaming for air. “maybe- maybe he just went on vacation!” he mumbled to himself, but he let out a frustrated cry, “no! y/n wouldn’t just leave like that. come on heeseung, you knew him more than you knew yourself at one point! he wouldn’t just leave,” he made his final decision, standing straight to walk into the police station in front of him.

“i’d like to file a missing person’s report.”

the officer at the desk looked at heeseung before clicking onto a new program on her computer, “what is their name and when was the last time you saw them?”

“y/n l/n and i saw him about two weeks ago.”

“excuse me, but why are you just now filing a report then, sir?” another officer walked up, overhearing the conversation.

heeseung looked shocked, not knowing what to say. maybe he had put too much faith in believing y/n was okay. maybe he should’ve come sooner, but now wasn’t the time to patronize himself.

“he’s a surgeon. we all figured he took a break or something—”

“sure, one second. let me go check if we have him in the system.” heeseung stared in irritation. did the officer not hear him? y/n is a surgeon, why would he be recorded in the system?

he waved down the officer, shaking his head. “nevermind officer, i’ll just go to the next division station and report it.”

he let out a rough sigh as he gripped his hair, kicking his feet as he walked out the station. “please, y/n, please be safe—”

his phone suddenly rang and he fumbled with it in his pocket before pulling it out and looking at the caller id. it was a number he didn’t recognize, so he went to ignore it when a nagging feeling compelled him to answer.

“hello?”

there was some breathing on the other end of the line before a voice spoke up, “hello? hi, yes, is this lim heeseung?”

heeseung didn’t recognize the voice, but if he knew his name, he must’ve been calling for a reason. “yes this is… may i ask who i am speaking to?”

“oh, hello, yes i am changsik. i’m a friend of y/n’s—”

an audible gasp left heeseung’s mouth, his feet carrying him to a less crowded place. “really? do you know where he is—is he okay?”

“oh, he’s fine! i’m actually calling you because he asked me to. he wanted me to let you know he was okay. i’m letting him stay at my house for a bit—he wanted to take a break, he’s turned his phone off. that’s why no one can reach him,” heeseung listened on, each word causing his mind to be put more at ease, “he actually asked me to call you a while ago, but i’ve been so busy with work, so i’m very sorry!”

heeseung frantically spoke a mantra of “no,” telling the man that he was fine and thanking him for telling him about y/n.

“here, how about this. i’ll send you my address and you can come and surprise him with a visit this weekend!”

“of course! thank you so much, i’ll keep in touch!”

“mister hongjoong… sir,” y/n fumbled over his words as he confronted the man. hongjoong looked at him with a raised brow, waving a hand slowly, urging him to continue speaking. “uh, i’m running low on supplies… so i was wondering if someone could come with me to get more from the store…”

the leader stares blankly at him for a moment, causing the doctor to almost become weak in the knees, before he taps his in-ear, “jongho, come here please.”

a few seconds later, jongho enters hongjoong’s office, bowing his head before waiting for hongjoong to speak.

“y/n says he is running out of supplies, so i want you to go with him to the pharmacy down the street, okay?” jongho only nodded his head, bowing before asking y/n to follow him.

as they made their way down the corridor, jongho tapped his in-ear, “i’m going with y/n hyung to get some more medical supplies. san hyung can you bring me my wallet and gun. we’re headed toward the front door.” there’s a hurried yes on the other end, heard in both jongho and y/n’s ears. 

when they reached the front door, san was already standing there, a batman wallet and gun in hand. y/n eyed the wallet, “wow, jongho. who would’ve thought you were into batman—”

san choked on a laugh as jongho just huffed, opening the front door. “oh, one second jongho, please. let me just go get the list of supplies i need!”

jongho nodded his head, shutting the door behind him. y/n went to go get the list from the infirmary when san’s hand landed on his forearm. “i already grabbed it… hyung,” the younger was staring up at him with a worried look, “be careful.”

y/n went to thank him when he noticed a subtle blush painting his cheeks. “are you okay san? you’re not coming down with a fever, are you?” he placed a hand against his forehead and then his cheeks.

“your wounds are probably infected! i told you no sharp movem—” his words were cut off as a pair of lips touched his almost as fast as he could blink. his eyes widened in shock, body freezing as he stared down at the younger whose face transitioned into a burning red. 

y/n bought a hand to his mouth, delicately prodding at the area that was tingling. he remained like that for a few more moments, san’s demeanor slowly becoming more ashamed and embarrassed. san went to apologize and run away when y/n bought a hand to his hair and ruffled it. “we’ll be back before you know it.”

y/n didn’t know how to feel as he followed jongho down the sidewalk. what san did was so sudden—sure they’d grown remarkably closer over the past couple of weeks, but he just couldn’t help but be shocked. maybe it was because the boy was in his younger twenties and y/n was almost thirty. maybe there was some sort of generation gap when it came to the developmental speed of friendships and relationships.

all he knows was he couldn’t shake it from his mind as he walked into the pharmacy, jongho waiting outside to avoid the cameras. 

but what the both of them didn’t and couldn’t have known was that there was someone else in the pharmacy—someone willing to start a war.

#t.k chapter #tinted kisses #kpop x male reader #x male reader #san x male reader #choi san #san ateez #ateez fic #ateez series #series #top male reader #ateez #kpop imagines #kpop series #kpop x reader #kpop fics #ateez fics #ateez x male reader

[thisfoolwrites]

My Altair (2)

Part 2 Here’s the second part to my Bokuto fic! Thanks to all the likes and reblogs on the last one. I appreciate each and every one of you. Please enjoy!

Warnings: References to underage drinking Genre: Angst to Fluff

Part 1  Part 3

Waking up the next morning, {Y/N} felt like her head was going to explode. She groaned and tried to roll over to her back, and noticed that there was a blockade in her way. Fully opening her eyes she noticed Kenma curled up next to her. She scooted over to give herself room to move and gently poked his cheek.

“I'm sorry Ken, for worrying you last night.” she murmured. “I didn't mean to disappear on you, I just didn't want to talk about it at the time.”

“I know you didn't mean it.” His soft voice replied,  “And I'll wait till you're ready to talk, just don't do that again ok?” The two siblings shared a look and knew that they would be alright. {Y/N} was grateful that Kenma didn't bring up Kuroo. She didn't want to cry anymore over him, but knew that she was still in a vulnerable state.

“Now get out of my bed so I can shower and pack. We got that training camp at Shenzin tomorrow.” She gently shoved him towards the end of the bed. With a small laugh Kenma went back to his own room. Once the door was closed she sighed and laid back down on her back. 

Had she really worried everyone that much? Closing her eyes tight she was left to her thoughts once again. The headache she woke up with seemed ten times worse now. Getting up she stopped at her dresser, looking at the numerous trophies and medals she had earned from the time she was ten up until she was fifteen. Had it really been three years since she had given up skating. Noticing the picture of her and Kuroo at his first high school inter-high tournament, she picked it up and glared at it. The inter-high was the same day as a competition she had been looking forward to. But she never made it there. With the picture in her hand, she walked over to the trash and dropped it in.

After grabbing her clothes she made her way out of her room and to the shower. She heard noises from Kenma's room and assumed he had began gaming. She hoped a nice hot shower would free up her thoughts. “Think of puppies or something.” She grumbled to herself.

Bokuto glanced towards his phone for what seemed like the thousandth time. Had she meant that text or was she still under the influence? He supposed he'd get his answer Monday when the training camp rolled around. He saw a new text from Kuroo. His eyes narrowed at his name alone. How was he supposed to get along with Kuroo all week? He also had to get Kuroo's side of the story. Did he sting {Y/N} along last summer, even knowing how Bokuto felt? Or had it been a non exclusive thing that she misread? Either way all he knew was the Kuroo had some apologizing to do. Unlocking his phone and glancing at the words, he frowned again.

Kuroo: Thanks for finding her. We really appreciate it.

Bokuto: Its no problem.

Kuroo: Did she happen to say why she ran off? Kenma wouldn't tell me anything and {Y/N} wont answer my texts or calls.

Golden orbs widened in shock. Kenma hadn't told his friend that he was the reason she ran off? Was {Y/N} really ignoring him still? The scheming captain had really done a number on their mutual friend. If she had chosen not to say anything, he had no right to share that either.

Bokuto: Nope. All she wanted to talk about were the stars.

Not a total lie, he thought. With a heavy sigh he went back to packing for the training camp. He really hopped {Y/N} would show up. Even though she had no interest in being a manager at all. He backed out of Kuroos contact and went to {Y/N’S}.

Bokuto: Id love to go stargazing, maybe the stars will be visible this week.

Monday rolled around faster than {Y/N} would have liked. It was 6am and she was standing next to Coach Nekomata taking roll call and making sure everyone got on the bus. She could feel the third years and Tora starring at her. She figured that at this point they all knew about the fallout between her and Kuroo. After making sure everyone was on the bus she looked toward the coach and climbed on herself. Kenma, who usually sat next to Tora, had saved her a seat next to him. She smiled before accidentally locking eyes with the Scheming captain. She could see the confusion and hurt in his eyes. Looking away she took her seat next to Kenma, giving him a small thanks.

She pulled out her phone and smiled looking at her notifications. She had been texting the owl haired captain since yesterday. Looking at the pictures he sent she let out a small laugh, catching the attention of the setter beside her. He glanced down and saw who she was texting and he managed a small smile. Maybe this is what she needed. While he still wasn't sure what had happened, he just wanted to see his sister happy.

Her team had changed into their practice clothes and were getting ready to head to the court when the Karasuno bus pulled up. She smiled and watched with Yaku the excitement on the two first years. Not to mention the loud voices of the second years.

“They sure are a lively bunch huh?” She mumbled absentmindedly. Yaku just nodded along.

“Its never dull moment with them.”

“Well, we better get in there, I've got manager things to do.” Yaku could almost hear the sigh in her voice.  He wanted to ask if she was ok, but figured he should wait. He just nodded and followed her inside. {Y/N} looked around the gym and saw the other schools practicing already. He eyes landed on Fukurodani. She had never given other schools much thought. After Saturday however, she had couldn't stop thinking about the ace. As if he sensed someone looking at him he turned. Golden orbs met {E/C}. A large grin spread on his face and he waved his arms in the air wildly. {Y/N} let out a small laugh when she saw this.

“Never a dull moment indeed.” She murmured with a smile before walking off and meeting the other managers. Yaku just stood there and with his mouth agape. She had been so gloomy all week, just what happened when Bokuto picked her up from that party.

“What was that?” Came the deep voice of Kuroo, causing Yaku to jump. “Jeez, why are you so jumpy?”

“When you come out of no where that happens! You need a bell!” Kuroo let out a laugh and went to go practice with the rest of his team. He'd have to ask Bokuto later what was going on with him and the older Kozume.

The training camp had been going smoothly, for the most part. Aside from Kurasuno losing every match they had been apart of, and the fact that Nekoma's captain and manager still weren't on speaking terms. {Hana} let out a sigh and walked outside after taking a shower. Shenzin's school wasn't directly in the city so there were less lights, but she still couldn't see the stars that well. While walking she ran into the Silver haired setter of the Kurasuno team.

“Hey, you're Sugawara right?” She called out to him. He glanced over and smiled.

“That's me. You're {Y/N} Kozume right? We didn't get a chance to talk at the practice game.” Suga acknowledged. {YN} let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, the boys on my team are pretty protective. Sorry about that.” she mumbled. “I actually had a question for you.” Suga raised an eyebrow when he noticed her eyes were trained at the sky. He saw her glance at him for a second and hummed in acknowledgment. “Can you see the stars from Miyagi? Here you can't see them very well. The lights get in the way and you can only see the basic shapes. No constellations or the planets.” Out of all the questions she could have asked, he wasn't expecting that. Volleyball questions yes, stars, no.

“You can. There's a hill we would go to as kids to go watch the stars, as well as the fireworks.” He didn't miss the way he eyes lit up, only for a brief second.  

“Really? It must be nice.” If there had been any other noise he wouldn't have heard her reply. She closed he eyes and turned to him with a smile. “I'm sorry for taking up your time. Thank you though for answering my question.” She gave him a small bow before taking off in the direction of her room. Leaving Suga to question if she was ok. He'd have to ask Kuroo next time he saw him. With a sigh he took off towards the showers.

Bokuto had just gotten done practicing with Akaashi, Kuroo and even Tsukishima. How they had convinced the tall blonde to keep coming to the late practices was beyond him. He walked out of the showers with a towel around his shoulders. His usually spiky hair was down and in his eyes. Using his left hand he pulled the silver locks out of his eyes and noticed a figure waiting at the vending machines. He smiled upon seeing the familiar long {H/C} locks.

“Hey hey hey!” he called quietly, well quietly for Bokuto. “What are you doing here?” he questioned. “Not that I'm not happy to see you.” he quickly added with a blush, his hand going to the back of his head. Hearing the small laugh he glanced back at her.

“I was thinking we could go to the hill and look at the stars. There's less lights here than in the city, so you can see them a bit better.” she questioned. Her eyes never met his, they just stayed trained to the floor. She was waiting for the rejection that she's been so used to. Why would anyone want to do something she wanted? Even though he had texted her and said he would like to, she was convinced it was only said out of pity. After all she was drunk when she asked. Opening her mouth to speak again she was cut off by the surprisingly quiet voice of the ace.

“Sure, I'd love to.” he grinned, holding out his hand to her. Shocked {E/C} eyes met smiling gold orbs. Her smile grew larger as she grabbed his hand. “Maybe you can tell me more about Vega. You talked about it the other night.” She blushed when remembering that night.

“We should take a trip to Miyagi for that story. Sugawara said you can see the stars perfectly from there. Less lights, After all its kind of a long story, not to mention its a love story, you sure you want to hear it?” she inquired. No one had shown an interest in the stars when she talked about them. They usually just brushed her off and changed the subject. Bokuto beamed down at her once they had made it to the hill outside the gym.  

“Of course! You eyes always light up whenever you talk about or even look at the stars. You are passionate about it, like I am with volleyball. Even though I'm pretty sure you don't like the sport at all.” he joked as he sat down.

“Its not that I don't like it. Its just all that's ever talked about anymore. I get that it's important, nationals is coming up and its Te-Kuroos third year, but not everyone is as invested in it like he is.” she grumbled while sitting next to him. She laid down on her back to stare at the sky, a little smile still gracing her lips. Bokuto didn't miss her slip up. He noticed how she called him Kuroo instead of Tetsu like she usually does. However, seeing her smile after crying that night, he made sure that he didn't bring it up. She'd talk about it in time, and he wasn't gonna push her.

What the pair were unaware of were a pair of hazel eyes watching them. Kuroo frowned at seeing the scene before him. He couldn't explain the feeling in his chest. He was with Akemi, so why did he feel jealous of Bokuto?

Taglist: @samkysnks​

#bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo angst #kenma kozume x sister reader #kenma kuzome #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu angst #reader insert fanfiction #bokuto koutarou x reader

[nanamikeento]

dancing with our hands tied || pt. i

Pairing: Marcus Pike x female!reader

Summary: Marcus is your boss and you really enjoy working with him. But a work trip to the west coast makes him visit the past and you realize not only you like him, but you’re deeply in love with him. The only problem is that you both work together and it would never work. Or so you think.

a/n: so basically i had to split this bad boy in two cause i was writing a whole damn the mentalist episode. all you need to know is: i know nothing about how the FBI works or how crimes are solved, so i made it all up. deeply sorry if i offend any fbi agents that could be here?? if you don’t watch the mentalist, basically patrick jane is an asshole that can read people’s body language and points them out in public. that’s really all you need to know, it’s a dumb show tbh. also, this contains detective work and law enforcement, which, during times like this, i would understand if you don’t want to read this. don’t forget to donate to the black lives matter movement and sign petitions against police brutality. i’ve reblogged a variety of posts with link for donations and petitions, they're under the tag #blm resources.

Warnings: mutual pining, some angst, a pinch of fake dating

Word count: 6.7k (and there’s more coming)

part ii | MASTERLIST

The badge around your neck swings as you run and you have to hold it in place. The streets of L.A. are full of curious eyes, gathered behind the yellow tape; you check your phone one more time and sigh. No messages, no missing calls. It’s not like him, you know something’s up.

When you show your ID to the police officer that’s in charge of controlling the people, he lets you duck under the tape and approach the other agents already in the scene. You exhale, panting from your run as you introduce yourself.

“I’m with the FBI,” You tell them after stating your name. They all eye you like you’re from another dimension.

“What’s the FBI’s interest in all this?” Asks a red haired agent whose name you don’t know.

You take a look at the corpse on the ground. “‘Cause this is our guy.”

Crouching next to the lifeless body, you take a pair of latex gloves from the pocket of your jacket and put them on; with gentle fingers you tilt the dead’s head sideways so you can look for a specific mark behind his ear.

"Yep," You tilt the man's head for everyone to see a burning scar on the shape of an eye. "The Crystal Eyes gang.” You take the man’s hand to show the pinky finger ring the gang members wear, but it’s missing. Furrowing your brows you notice the tan line on his finger, where the ring should be.

The only man who actually smiles at your statement is the blond, blue-eyed guy. The rest of the agents sigh and roll her eyes, and you frown already irritated. First, your partner doesn’t show to a crime scene of a case he’s the head of, then these CBI agents are clearly not your fans.

The woman who seemed to be the boss rolls her eyes at the man and looks at your direction. Her blue eyes darting to you with anger and you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or the man with the arrogant smile. When she speaks, her voice is demanding, like she’s also your boss. “Are you leading this case on your own? Where is your partner?”

It takes everything in you not to tell her to fuck off. “He’s–” You swallow. “Coming.” You stand, looking away as you take off the gloves and discard them. Taking another look at your phone, you sigh in disappointment when you see nothing. Fucking hell, he’s not coming. What an idiot. “So, this guy’s name is–”

“You’re lying.” A voice interrupted you. It’s the man with the arrogant smile. “He’s not coming, is he?” You watch the way he smiles at you. “You keep checking your phone and the way you looked away when you talked tells us you’re either waiting for someone’s call or you’re checking to see if something happened to him.”

Fuck. How does he know all that? Were you that transparent or are you just a bad liar?

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” You ask him, shoving your hands in the pockets of your FBI jacket.

“Jane.” He smiles, showing you an ID card that has a picture of him above the name ‘Patrick Jane’. “Consultant.”

Nodding slowly, you frown at him. “Jane.” You tilt your head as you speak. “He’s coming, don’t worry. If he doesn’t arrive, he must have a great, great excuse for his absence. Either way it doesn’t concern you. What you do need to know is that him and I are after this gang for about a year now, and this is the first lead we have in three months. We’re more than capable of handling this.”

“Clearly not, if your partner is not even here,” The boss says. You exhale sharply. You were going to kill your partner.

“Listen, Agent…”

“Lisbon.”

“Agent Lisbon,” You repeat her name. “I know it’s hard to see a case being taken from your team, and I’m sorry about this, but– You gotta let me do my job.”

Lisbon sighs, crossing her arms “What do they do? The gang. Do they sell drugs? They kill people? Maybe there’s something we can help you with.”

“Well, I’m with the art squad so…” You pause. “They steal art.”

You watch as all the agents look at their boss and an awkward silence tenses the air. Lisbon widen her eyes and then looks away from you, clearing her throat. It’s like their own unspoken thing.

“Art?” Patrick says, amused. “From where?”

The way he says it makes it look like a joke and you’re not sure if he’s mocking you or not.

“Art galleries, museums, you pick.” You shrug, crossing your arms in a defensive manner. “They see a place with an expensive art piece? They steal. It could even be a rich man’s living room. When it comes to Crystal Eyes, they don’t give a fuck.”

Silence hangs in the air and you could hear a pin drop, even out here in the open. Finally, red haired woman, Van Pelt clears her throat, alleviating a bit of the tension you still don’t know why it’s there.

“And, uh–” She swallows. “These robberies involve killing other people or…?”

“No, they usually use a stealth strategy.” You almost sigh, relieved for the broken silence. “Although, one time, they killed an old man at his own mansion when the robbery didn’t go as planned. I don’t believe this an accident, though.”

“Interesting,” Jane mumbled. “Hey, do you happen to know an Agent–”

“We’re done here!” Lisbon interrupts him and starts walking away. You watch her give him a look only a wife would give to her husband. Quickly glancing at their hands, you notice they use the same ring on the same finger.

Of course they’re married.

Lisbon says your name, getting your attention again and nods at you. “He’s all yours. Have fun.”

And with that, her and her team walk away from the scene. Sighing, you check your phone one last time. Still, no messages, no missing calls, not even a text. Nothing. Gritting your teeth, you shake your head.

“Godammint, Pike.”

…

You and your team had been in California literally for half a day before the call for the dead guy came in. It’s the first lead you all have on this gang in three months, so as soon as one of the informants let you know one of the leader were in L.A., you all flew to the west coast and based yourselves in one of the FBI quarters.

As soon as you walk in the big room, you see Marcus’ sitting at his desk, typing something on a computer that looks like it hasn’t been used since the 90’s.

“Pike!” You exclaim, getting his attention. His face changes from focused, to confused, to a tired look in a matter of seconds. Strolling towards him, you watch as he leans back on his chair. “Three years I’ve been working with you and you’ve never pulled a stunt like this!” You slam your hand on his desk, making everyone around you jump, except from him. “If you wanted me to look like an idiot in front of the CBI guys, well, you did it!”

He raises his hands in defense and says your name, the low baritone of his voice is enough to send shivers down your spine, but not right now. Not today, when you’re angry at him like this.

“Oh, please, do tell,” You grunt, shifting the weight of your body to one leg as you cross your arms. “I’m eager to know why you didn’t show in such an important crime scene, leaving me alone to deal with them.”

Marcus gaped at you for a second and then sighed softly. “I got stuck in the traffic.”

You roll your eyes. “Bullshit. I was miles away and managed to get there before forensics.”

He stared at you for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”

“Well, let this be the first and last time.” You warned him, pointing a finger to him.

“May I remind you I’m your boss, Agent?” He gives you a teasing smile, leaning back on the chair.

You sigh shaking your head. “Yeah, you seem to forget that sometimes.”

His eyes left yours and you felt a pang of sorrow for him, not knowing exactly why. You and Marcus have always had a love-hate relationship. Even though he's technically your boss, you've always treated him like equal. Yelling at him in front of colleagues wasn't a new thing, and to be honest, he’s already used to it. Shaking your head, you stroll over to the furthest desk and sit down, claiming the spot as yours for the time you stay in L.A.

Marcus Pike is an excellent agent. He’s dedicated and hardworking and a damn good boss. The man was born to lead, the passion he has for his job impresses you. Ever since you’ve joined the squad, you’ve been assigned with him as your partner. Back then, everyone told you how lucky you were to be working beside him. Three years later, you still feel lucky to work to have him as your partner. Just not today.

Needless to say, you have a mild crush on him. When you first met him, your first thought was that he was incredibly handsome. And then you were gradually being acquainted with his work style, with the way he worked hard, so your feelings for him just grew stronger over the time. You’ve become closer him over the course of the years and you know him just as well as he knows you. Which is why you just snapped at him. He’d never allow such thing if any other member of the squad talked to him like you did.

Little do you know that Marcus is harvesting a crush on you too. It’s been a while since the feelings had started to make its way to his heart. He’s not sure when it started, but he knows it’s there. He feels it every time you smile and laugh at one of his jokes. He feels it every time you come up with a lead, every time you arrest a criminal. He feels it when he sees you wearing the FBI jacket, looking so pretty with your hair in a low bun or in a ponytail. Hell, he feels it when you’re mad at him.

Marcus glances at you, from his claimed desk and sees you looking at the computer screen, forehead creased in concentration as you filled in the report from the crime scene. Sighing, he looks back at his own computer, feeling his heart sink. Three years you’ve been working together and not once you showed up with a boyfriend. Claiming your job was more important to you at the moment, you just stated that you have no time for relationships. You want to focus on your career, make a name for yourself.

Which is why you and him would never work.

The clock ticked slowly that morning as you all put the leads together to find out who killed the man of the gang. His name was Liam Dixon and he had a big name in the gang, his picture pinned on the cork board from your office back in New York for months. And now, he just drops dead. During a briefing, someone suggested it might have been an accident, a mugging that went wrong, but you know it’s more than that. Saying that the only thing that has been missing from the body was the ring, you argued that it could be either personal or a gang conflict that went wrong. Marcus agreed with you. The orientation he gave everyone is look into police calls for stolen art recently in L.A. That way, you can all have a hint where the gang is acting.

When lunch time arrives, you sigh as you check your phone and stand from your desk. Organizing your desk, you pick up the post-it notes and empty coffee cups and throw them in the trash, when you see a figure approaching you.

“Let me make it up to you,” Pike says, leaning his hand on your desk. “I know a good place where we can have lunch.”

…

Going on lunch breaks with him isn’t unfamiliar to you, but you’re still upset at him, so you order a salad and eat in silence as he eats his own meal too.

“How was the crime scene?” He tries to make conversation.

“You’d know if you were there.” The words come out too fast from your lips and you quickly shoot him an apologetic look.

“You’re still upset?”

Waving a hand at him, you shook your head. “I’m just being petty.” You swallow your food. “The scene was packed, lot of curious eyes. I got there and the CBI guys were in the scene.”

He nods, considering his next words. “Is Patrick Jane still a part of the CBI team?”

“The consultant?” Your voice gives a hint of surprise. “Yeah, he was there. Kinda weird guy if you ask me.”

Pike laughs softly, shaking his head. “Don’t let your guard down near him. He’ll read you like an open book.”

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of your water, eyeing him.

“He’s… Very observant,” He explains. “He’s good at reading people and he has no filter. If something is bothering you, he will let everyone know.”

“Huh.” You smile. “What a weirdo.”

Silence hangs in the air as you both eat. A comfortable silence, a good one.

“Did you meet Lisbon?” He asks, suddenly.

Frowning at him, you nod, biting a piece of broccoli. “Yeah, do you know her?”

Marcus sighs, drinking the rest of his water. Something in his demeanor tells you he’s… Sad, maybe? His eyelids drop to his plate and his shoulders slump as he hangs his head low. You’ve been coexisting with him long enough to tell he’s not okay. Then, a thought occurs to you.

“She’s the ex, isn’t she?” You ask, quietly. He looks up at her and nods, his expression changing, covering the trace of sadness from his face.

Marcus had told you about an ex who left him for another man during one of your stakeouts together. It broke your heart to know that a man like him, so sweet and hardworking, was left twice by women who didn’t appreciate him. You told him that they it was their loss and, after he laughed at your corny attempt at comforting him, you said that if they didn’t leave him, you’ve had never met him. That night, he looked at you like you were the light of his life. Every time you remember, you feel butterflies on your stomach and smile to yourself.

It was nearly two years ago.

And it’s not like Marcus is not over Lisbon, after all it’s been five years since the breakup. But he’s still not ready to face her. Not again. Not after the last time he saw her with Jane and felt his heart bleed. He just doesn’t want to get hurt again.

“How is–” He clears his throat. “How is she?”

“Fat.” You shake your head, grimacing at him. “Her hair was all over the place, pimples on her skin, bad breath, lettuce on her teeth–”

Marcus lets out a laugh, shaking his head. It’s the kind of laugh that makes him throw his head back and wrinkle the corner of his eyes, and, god, his smile is beautiful. He laughs genuinely and you know that, because you've heard it before. You hear it when you are in stakeouts together and you'd crack a joke he'd really liked. You hear it in birthday parties of the members of the squad, when he’s tipsy and drunk happy. You hear it when you make your snarky remarks at the perks you arrest. You could watch him laugh for hours and you would never get tired of the view, of the sound of it. It makes your stomach churn with pleasure to know that you’re the one who provoked this laugh on him. As he wipes the corners of his eyes, you smile at him, laughing softly.

“Nice try, but–” He laughs. “Thanks.”

You just shrug, shaking your head. “Is that why you didn’t go to the crime scene?”

Pike’s smile fades away and you regret the question when you see the expression he gives you. Something tells you to take it back, to apologize and leave it like that, but if he didn’t want to face her… Then, maybe, he still has feelings for her. And the thought, somehow, hurts you.

“Yeah, I, uh–” He swallows. “I don’t think I’m ready to face her again.”

“Oh.” Is all you say.

After finishing your lunch, you both pay the bill and leave the restaurant. The thick, awkward silence grows heavy between the two of you as you both walk together back to the quarters. You want to speak, but you don’t know how to comfort him, how to make him feel better. And then a different voice calls his name.

“Marcus?”

You both stop walking and turn around. Lisbon and Jane, hands laced together, are staring at the both of you. Marcus’s heart almost stop at the sight, his breath get caught on his throat as he widens his eyes.

“Teresa,” He replies, a surprised tone in his voice, eyeing Jane and nodding at him. “Patrick.”

“I see you kept the, uh–” Jane points at his own face to indicate a beard. “The look.”

Marcus nods at him, but doesn’t respond. You nod shortly at Patrick and glance at Lisbon.

“How– How are you?” She asks, looking right into his eyes. A shot of jealousy hits your heart, and you swallow hard trying to push the feeling away.

“Good,” Marcus answer, smiling. “You?”

“Good.” She smiles at him and you have to look away. Pursing your lips, you discreetly take a deep breath and cross your arms.

This woman had Marcus wrapped around her finger and really discarded him when she decided she didn’t want him. She played with his feelings until she got tired and left, not knowing she had a great man who was in love with her and was willing to do anything for her. She doesn’t know how lucky she was for having him. The anger sets in your chest faster than expected as they make small talk, but you don’t listen to them. You can’t, or you’ll explode with anger. It’s Jane’s voice that pulls you out of you thoughts.

“You’re jealous.” His voice is directed to you and both of them stop talking to look at you.

“What?” You frown in confusion.

“Your lips.” He points to his own lips as he talks. “They’re pursed together. You’re crossing your arms to shield yourself, and you have this… Sour expression on your face.”

Widening your eyes, you look at Pike but he’s just as surprised as you are.

“You have feelings for Agent Pike and you’re jealous that he’s giving attention to his ex girlfriend.” Jane smiled triumphant. You gape, feeling your heart speed, and the heat on your cheeks as you look at him surprised. Lisbon shoots a look at Jane as if she’s saying stop reading people without their permission. Your eyes are focused on the ground, knowing that if you look at Pike, it'll be game over.

"Of course she has feelings for me." Pike laughs softly after a short awkward pause. You shoot a look at him, a frown in your brow, confused as hell. "She's my girlfriend."

A silent pause hangs between all of them. Agent Lisbon frowns deeply, widening her eyes to the both of you. Jane's smile fades away. Pike's smile grows wider. And you… You just look at him in shock, thinking about how quickly he thought of the lie. It's unnecessary to lie, there's no point in telling the CBI that you were together, except–

He wanted to impress Lisbon. Of course.

Trying to conceal your emotions from Jane, cause he'd know if you're lying, you smile at the couple and laugh softly. Marcus approaches you and lays his palm flat on your lower back. A touch that makes you tense and melt at the same time. The warmth of his hand gives you some comfort and, despite everything going on, it's a comfort you needed for a really long time.

"We're trying to keep it a secret, for now." The words roll off easily from your lips and when you see, you're already wrapping an arm around his torso, smiling as brightly as you can. "Because we're coworkers, and we don't know how the squad would react." And then, with a playful tone, you look at Pike. "But someone can't keep his mouth shut."

Marcus laughs, shaking his head. A fake laugh.

"I just can't contain myself." He leans towards you to press his lips on the crown of your head. “I’m too happy with you.”

It shouldn’t make your heart jump, but it does. You look up at him and give him a real smile this time, your eyes softening as a light breath leaves your lips. He looks at you and notices it, slightly tilting his head like a confused puppy, reading your expression too well. Your smile fades for a moment as you look away, but the fake smile returns when you look at Patrick.

“Oh,” He says, looking a little too disappointed.

“We have to go,” You tell them, smiling. “We got a gang to catch.”

As soon as you both are out of their sight, you let go of each other. The walk back to the quarters is silent and awkward and you have to put an effort to not blush the entire way. Pike warned you, the man is good at reading people. And he really has no filter at all. You just hope that your partner thinks Jane is wrong, you can’t afford him knowing about your feelings for him.

When you reach the doors to the quarters, he calls your name, stopping by the steps. Looking back at him, you see him, with his hands on his hips and his eyes on the floor. You swallow, feeling your heart speed up.

“About what Jane said–”

“He was wrong.” You’re quick to interrupt. Marcus’ eyes dart up to you and you have to stop yourself from sighing.

“He’s never wrong.” His voice is soft and there’s a hint of something in his eyes. It’s something sparkly, like– Like hope. You have to look away, pushing the feeling away as you shove your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“Well, he was,” You tell him, and when he says your first name, “We’re coworkers. Don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for you.”

With that, you turn your back to him and enters the quarters, the lie still burning your throat. Heading straight to the bathroom, you feel your eyes watering. By the time you lock the door, they run down your cheeks and you sob. You didn’t know why it hurt so much to lie to him, but it does.

You’re really into him, aren’t you?

…

Another member of the gang was murdered. Frederick Hale, second to leader of the Crystal Eye, was found dead by gunshot wounds almost in the same street Liam Dixon was found. When you and Pike got the crime scene to identify the body, forensics were almost done with everything.

“That doesn’t make sense,” You say, gripping you tea mug on the table. During the briefing, your brain is working like a machine, trying to figure out why the member of the gang were dropping like flies.

“Could be a coincidence.” Russell suggested, shrugging.

“It could be, but two members in the same day?” You argue.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Pike tells everyone. “Ballistics came through. Liam and Frederick were killed by the same gun.”

It doesn’t surprise you. You knew it was too good to be a coincidence.

“So, someone is definitely taking them out.” You nod.

“Maybe they both fucked up, and the man was mad about it.” Davis shrugs.

“No, it’s not like Yosef,” Pike says, sitting down and crossing his arms. The shirt tightens around his arms and you look away quickly, not letting the horny thoughts distract you from the investigation. “He doesn’t eliminate his members like that.”

“What if someone’s infiltrated in the gang?” You bite your thumbnail, like you always do, a habit Marcus noticed you did in the first week of working with you. You do it when you’re concentrated, thinking of something important.

“Like an informant?” He asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his gaze.

“No, no. Like– Someone who joined it with the specific purpose of killing them?”

“Like an avenger?” Davis scoffs and you shoot an angry look at him.

“Yeah,” Pike says, nodding. “I thought the same thing.”

Finally, finally you look at him. He gives you an assuring look as he's saying I agree with you and I have your back at the same time. That’s a thing you like about him. The way you both communicate without words. You open your mouth to agree, but his phone rings before you make a word out. He picks it up, dismissing you all with a wave of his hand and you sigh, standing up and walking to your desk.

You only get to turn the computer screen before Marcus makes a quick beeline for you and asks if he could talk to you for a moment. Outside. Feeling your stomach churning, you nod, knowing something is wrong. Following him to the back patio of the building, you take a couple of deep breaths, preparing yourself for whatever is coming. When you both are in a safe distance from the other members of the squad, he turns to you and sighs.

“That was Jane on the phone.” He explains, quickly.

A frown is on your forehead. “Jane? Patrick Jane?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, wetting his lips with his tongue and exhaling softly. “He invited us to a double date.”

A laugh escapes your lips and you smile, thinking it’s a joke. “A double date with who?”

His face is serious when he answers. “You and me, him and Teresa.”

The smile falls from your face and you tilt your head, knowing there’s more to it. “And you said no, right?”

Marcus’ gaze is on the floor as he avoids the question by staying in silence.

“Pike.” You insist. “Tell me you said no.” No answer. “Please, tell you said we’re going to be busy or that we had plans already.

You wait for his answer until he finally looks at you again. “I said yes.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you close your eyes and sigh deeply. Marcus bites his bottom lip, eagerly waiting for an answer, leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Why?” You ask, eyes still closed.

“I-I– I just–”

“Is this about Teresa?” You interrupt him before he could think of what to say. “Is this you trying to prove a point to her?”

“No!” He answers too quickly and you narrow your eyes at him. “Y-you know I can’t lie to Jane, he’ll know if I do!”

“Not even on the phone?!” You argue.

“Trust me, he’d know.”

Looking away, you sigh, crossing your arms. Marcus knows he’s putting you in a difficult position and the truth is that he doesn’t actually know why he said yes to the date. Maybe he just wishes he could go out with you and, knowing you would refuse his invitation if it was a normal situation, he accepted to continue to lie to Teresa and Patrick just to go out with you.

“Fine.” You finally answer. “When?”

“Tonight, eight o’clock.”

Sighing, once more, you nod. “Okay. But his ends tonight. No more lies. We’re here to work.”

He raises his hands in defense. “I promise, boss.”

“Fuck.” You mumble, walking away from him and ignoring the teasing nickname,

This is bullshit.

 …

Why this had to happen?

You look at yourself in the mirror for the hundredth time. The hotel room is a mess, clothes all scattered around the floor and bed. You didn’t bring any date clothes. Not even a casual dress. Not even a formal dress. You weren’t counting on going on a fucking date with a fake boyfriend.

The only formal set of clothes you bring is a plaid gray skirt, with length just above the knees, and a blazer in the same color and pattern. You put it in your suitcase just in case you’d have to attend an audience or be in the presence of a judge. Pairing it with a long sleeved black shirt and a pair of your usual office heels – black stiletto heels with a pointed toe – you decided this is the outfit.

Many times you imagined what your first date with Marcus would be. Your imagination liked to go far, from movie dates to fancy dinners, after all, it doesn’t hurt to think, right? But you never, ever imagined it would be like this. Faking a relationship to impress his ex. It kinda hurts, you realize, being a pawn to his game. But, deep down, you were dying for an excuse to go out with him. Even if it might be unprofessional. You just wish it would be you and him only.

A soft knock on your door announces he’s ready. You check your makeup and adjust your hair quickly, before walking to the door. You open it to a see a very handsome Marcus Pike standing at your door. He’s wearing a black suit and tie, like he usually does at work, but something is different. He’s neater, his hair is combed in place and his beard is trimmed and… Is he wearing cologne? The smell invades your nostrils and intoxicates you quickly, in a good way.

“Should I have shaved?” He asks, when you don’t speak. You blink, returning to the real world.

“No.” You shake your head, smiling. “You look– You look great.”

A shy smile curves the corners of his lips. “You too.”

You wave a hand at him, grabbing your clutch bag and closing the door behind you.

“I didn’t bring anything fancy, so…” You try to explain yourself.

“No, no, you look–” He hesitates. “You look beautiful.”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you look away from him, clearing your throat. Marcus is still amazed by you, looking so different tonight. Your hair is down and he fights the urge to run his fingers through it. In the three years he’s known you, he tries to think when he ever saw you with your hair down and he can’t. This might be the first time.

“Shall we?” You pull him out of his thoughts. He nods, and offers his arm for you to hook yours in it. You feel nervous, but for some reason, there’s a good feeling settled in your stomach.

Soft classical music reaches your ears as you enter the fancy restaurant, Marcus following right behind you, his hand hovering your lower back. As soon as you enter, a receptionist smiles and asks for your names.

“Yeah, we’re under the name Jane,” Marcus says, nodding once at her. She checks a list and tells you both to follow her.

She guides you both to an empty table and, for a moment, you think maybe they’re late, until you realize it’s a table for two. Your stomach drops and you swallow, frowning confused at the lady. Marcus laughs softly and shakes his head.

“No, there must be a mistake,” He says.

The receptionist frowns and checks the list again. “It says here you’ve reserved a table for two, Mister Jane.”

Marcus gapes at her as she walks away leaving you two behind. A waiter is politely waiting for you both to sit down at the table to hand you the menu, but you just look at each other, mouths hanged open.

“Maybe–” You say, swallowing hard. “Maybe we’re at the wrong restaurant.”

“No, he did this.” He whispers to you as you look at him, confused. “He set us up.”

A scoff leaves his throat as you look at him, pale and shaking. Does that mean you’re on an actual date… With Marcus Pike?

“What do we do now?” You ask, holding your clutch bag tightly with your hands.

“Well, we have two options. We can leave, and that’s okay if you want to.” He looks you in the eyes, leaning slightly towards you in honesty. “Or we can have dinner.”

The look you give him is one he can decipher. He can’t tell if you’re offended by the proposition or just thinking about it. Deep down he’s hoping you say yes, hoping you’d have dinner with him, just you and him. Then, a shy smile curves the corners of your lips and you shrug.

“Okay,” You tell him. “Since I’ve put on makeup and got all dressed up.”

He smiles at you and walks to the table to pull the chair for you to sit on. As the waiter hands you the menu and Marcus sits down in front of you, you try to calm down your nerves and try not to think you’re in an actual date with Agent Pike aka your boss. You order white wine and him Whiskey. After the waiter leaves, a moment of silence hangs between the both of you until you laugh nervously.

“I gotta admit,” You say, laughing. “Going on a date with my boss is kinda… Weird.”

Marcus stares at you for a few seconds and you wonder if saying the d-word was a bad move. But then he smiles, looking down at the menu and shaking his head.

“Just… Don’t think of me as Agent Pike. Tonight I’m just Marcus.”

“Marcus.” You repeat his name and nod. “Okay, Marcus… So what do you do for fun?”

Marcus breath almost hitches at the way you say his name and he imagines a thousand scenarios where you say his name like that. He clears his throat and swallows, closing the menu and looking at you.

“You know, the usual,” He answers. “Drink beer, watch TV.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows. “That’s all?” You tease. “You’re going to tell me Agent Marcus Pike doesn’t have a hobby?”

“C’mon.” He laughs. “You know which are my hobbies. You’ve known me for years.”

“Hmm, yes.” You smile. “But you said you’re Marcus tonight and I’m just trying to get to know you.”

Marcus looked at you with warmth in his eyes. A certain look that makes your stomach churn in pleasure, your heart speed and your cheeks warm. It’s something different. Perhaps the first time you look at his eyes like this in three years of knowing him.

“Alright,” He finally says. “My hobbies include watching TV, cooking and martial arts.”

A frown grows between your brows as you look at him surprised. “Cooking? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, I decided to give it a try last month.” He shrugs and waits for the waiter to serve their drink before continuing talking. “I keep burning water, I don’t know why I even try.”

A laugh escapes your lips. A genuine laugh. “That bad, huh?” You take a sip of the wine as you watch him nod. “You just practice. I can teach you some recipes if you want. My mom tells me I’m an excellent cook.”

“Yeah, maybe you should.” He gives you that look again and you clear your throat, playing with the stem of your glass of wine. Marcus’ fingers slowly approach yours, barely grazing at your skin before pulling away at the sound of the waiter’s voice asking if you were ready to order.

Marcus orders the special stake and you the mushroom cream soup. The food is good, tasty, but you really wished you could have something simpler. You didn’t mind, as long as you’re with him. The night goes by with laughter, talk about your personal lives and stolen looks from each other. By dessert, you both were buzzed off by the alcohol and kept laughing at everything.

“Wait, you threw up on her?” You ask, a wide smile on your face as Marcus tells you a story about his very first date, where he got too drunk and everything went wrong.

“On her shoes!” He replies, burying his face on his hands.

“Oh my god!” You put a hand on your mouth to muffle a laugh.

“I was seventeen, okay?” He argues, laughing too.

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eyes, you sigh, feeling your face warm. You both fall into a comfortable silence as Marcus reaches for your hands on the table. Your fingers touch his and you feel the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine. You realize you want to hold his hand forever, the feeling of his rough palm on yours is comforting to you.

“I’m having a great time.” He confesses, a closed-lipped smile on his face. An involuntary smile curves your lips too, letting the feeling take over you.

“Me too.” Your voice is small, shy. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” He agrees and fall in silence again.

Suddenly, an urge to tell him how you feel hits you. It may be the alcohol, but you can’t shake off the thoughts of confessing your feelings to him from your mind. You shouldn’t do it, not even your drunk self knows it. But the pain of yearning for a man, a good man, and not being reciprocated hits you and you don’t like the feeling.

“It’s getting late.” You whisper instead and he nods, asking for the check. He insists on paying, despite your protests.

The cab ride back to the hotel is silent and he’s not touching you anymore, but you wished he was. You wished he reached out for your hand, laced them together and pressed his lips on your skin. You wished this night never ended, you wished you would never let him go. The buzz of the alcohol is already faded when you both arrive at your hotel room, pulling the keycard from your wallet. Marcus walks with you and you look at him, smiling.

“So that was fun,” You say, biting your bottom lip.

“It was.” He smiles back. “We should do it again some time.”

Your heart skips a beat at small offer and all you can do is nod and smile. God, you really want to kiss him. You really want to kiss that stupid face, wipe off that stupid grin and pull him to your room. Licking your lips, your eyes set on his and he seems to notice because he licks his own lips, making your breath hitch.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” He says, looking right into your eyes.

And you should say no. You should draw the line, tell him you work together and that would be inappropriate. But instead you say,

“Okay.”

And then his lips gently press into yours as you close your eyes. The air escapes from your lungs as you reach for his neck, pulling him closer, his own hands cup your cheeks, kissing you tenderly. It feels amazing. The sensations his lips give you are beyond your imagination. As you open your mouth, allowing him you slip his tongue in, you sigh, deepening the kiss and tugging at his hair.

Then, you sober up. You pull away too quickly and wide your eyes, the blood draining from your face and your throat closing at the realization you just kissed your fucking boss.

“Shit,” You mumble, backing up. Marcus calls your name softly.

“It’s okay–”

“No.” You interrupt him. “You’re my boss, we work together.” You exhale sharply. “We can’t.”

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.” You raise a finger to him. “Please– Just don’t.”

Fumbling with the keycard you enter your room without giving him a chance to speak. The place it’s still a mess from your private fashion show, but you don’t care. Tears spill from your eyes as you remove your shoes and your clothes, not bothering to putting on pajamas or organizing the room before burying yourself under the covers.

Well, now, you’re really fucked.

_

tags: @madadlorian​ @xo-dragonette-xo​ @rosetophighlander​ @adikaofmandalore​ @pedropascalito​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @burningsoulbloodyheart​ 

let me know if you want to be tagged in part ii!

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #myfic #the mentalist #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic

[boogiewrites]

No. 9: The Body CH. 6

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary:  Eve explores the limits of her power. Diego is still stalking her and finds out more about her. Eve meets Klaus.

Warnings/Tags: Klaus. Talk of past trauma and phobias. Brief mentions of illness, injury and death. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Eve had begun to notice changes in her shape from the training. Work wasn’t as strenuous and honestly, her ass was looking fantastic. Her body was adapting but she felt she wasn’t exercising her mind enough. Out of the two, trying to use her mind and powers was harder to find time for since it was so draining. Using them at work in small increments to help things along was now manageable, but there were no visible results from it. Nothing she could look at, try to heal, and then see healed. So that’s where she started.

Eve wasn’t a stranger to doing illegal things. If you took a look at her juvenile record that would be clear. What she was doing wasn’t exactly illegal but it was certainly breaking some rules. She was finding it surprising how much she could get away with by simply wearing her white coat with her ID and having a determined look on her face. People held doors open for her that she didn’t have clearance for, add carrying a clipboard around on top of that and she could’ve gotten into just about anywhere it seemed. She was starting to understand how Diego was so good at it, and more interestingly understanding why he did it. That little flush of her cheeks and rush of misbehaving came back to her, something she’d not felt in over a decade, fueled her powers, and gave her a little oomph to work with.

She started small, visited patients being held that was out of the ER after surgery, vehicle accidents, and the like, plenty of small cuts and scrapes that no one would notice were gone. She’d look in and find someone resting and alone, not hard to do most nights. She’d find some road rash, a smaller gash, something not too intricate. At first, she thought she needed to put her hands on the person to heal and woke up a few very understandably startled people. But after a few successful attempts, she started to push herself more. By focusing she began to be able to heal cuts over and no scar would be left in its place. Whoever she did this to, she would check on their file until they were discharged, making sure she wasn’t hurting them or causing bad side effects. So far they’d all made a full recovery with no complications. This was extremely promising and made Eve’s confidence grow and therefore emboldened her to push herself.

She’d worn herself ragged running experiments on what she could or couldn’t do. She had a journal she kept hidden that she kept her results in. So far, she’d been able to find some limitations and strengths. No matter how hard she tried, she was no match for cancer. She could help with someone’s side effects momentarily but be unable to cure it. The same could be said for viral and bacterial instances. Once something had infiltrated and infested a body, she could no longer help it. She could only manipulate the body itself. Her hopes of being able to be the cure for cancer, which she would admit was a bit egotistical, were broken after seeing many fade away after brief respites she’d give them from nausea or pain. It was nice to be able to help certainly but having to see suffering and not be able to fix it was a heavy burden she was having to learn to deal with.

It was never easy to lose someone. It was something she wouldn’t say you got used to exactly, but it was something you could come to understand with time. Or at least be able to come to terms with. Since Eve was an emotional person deep down, and the healing she’d been trying to do to help herself manage that was opening up old wounds and was making her feel raw. Every life that slipped through her fingers would hit her harder than it had months prior. Which is what led her to be so reckless, she guesses. So she tried to bring someone back from the dead.

It wasn’t uncommon sadly, for a child brought in after catching a stray bullet from a hit and run or gang violence. It felt so unfair, and the first time she tried the child was rolled in, DOA, her heart poured out for them. She gave it her all, paddles, compressions and when nothing moved the vitals she had a last-ditch effort. A tear-filled pressing of her hands to the chest of the child, nurses looked on with heartbroken eyes for the doctor as she had a rare moment of breaking on the job. For a fleeting moment, a blip on the monitor later ruled out to a technical glitch, but Eve just couldn’t muster it. She passed out onto the bloody floor from her attempts and was sent home.

She’d had mixed feelings about it. Had she almost done it? Could she get stronger? Or had she found a line that she couldn’t cross? The page entry for her recorded attempts had teardrops running her ink on that entry. She felt defeated and decided to take a break.

--------------------------

Diego watches Eve without her knowing, as he sometimes still does. He trusts her, but a part of him always wants to be sure. She’s in an unusual neighborhood, going into an apartment building he doesn’t know. He decided to wait on her to appear again instead of finding her inside. He didn’t have to wait much more than an hour before she appeared again, seeming uneasy as she stepped back into the now dark streets.

He followed behind, spilling out of an alleyway after she passed and started the task of getting closer to her. When he finally got close enough to reach out and speak he was met swiftly with a switchblade and a series of moves he’d taught her.

“Woah! Hey! It’s me!” He says defensively, only a minor rise in key from surprise as he jumped back.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST Diego!” She says with an expression he’s never seen before.

“Hey! Hey! I didn’t know you’d be so jumpy!” He keeps his hands up between them as she huffs out of her nose like a bull, the late winter night air just still barely showing her breath.

“I’m a woman. Alone. At night on the street, dude!” She states obviously and biting as she puts her blade away. “Of COURSE I’m jumpy!” She whispers angrily.

“Look, there are people around and the streetlights are on... I didn’t know I’d scare you.” He explains with hands now on her shoulders. “You okay? You’ve got that wild look in your eyes.”

“I’m just…” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’m fine. I just… Wanna get home.”

“Looks like we need to train on lying.” He smirks.

She stares at him for a moment with pursed lips then shrugs and turns back in the direction she was going.

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“No, I'd like that actually.” She murmurs.

“What are you doing in this part of town?”

“Do you follow me everywhere?”

“No…” he answers defensively playful. “I was around and saw you. Got curious.”

“You can’t send a text like a normal person?”

“Not my style.”

“Difficult is your style.”

“Hey, slow down there with the rapid-fire insults here. Did I do something?”

“Besides stalk me? No.”

“Then why are you being such a-“ he stops as she shoots her eyes his way. “Difficult person?” He tries to cover smoothly.

Once again she stares as if contemplating something. “If I tell you will you stop asking?”

“Sorry, no promises. Don’t think I missed where you didn’t answer why you’re here.”

“Fine.” She begins to walk again. “I’m here apartment hunting. Not so great street, but that apartment is really nice. And I have a fear… a phobia that you’re gonna laugh at me for so I don’t wanna tell you.”

“When have I ever laughed at you?”

She raises her brows obviously at him.

“Okay, I won’t now.” he emphasizes.

“I don’t believe you for some reason.”

“I swear! I won’t.”

“Due to… past trauma, I am afraid of the dark. And I don’t know this part of town and it makes me nervous. I’d catch a cab but I want to learn the subways so I need to walk it.”

He stays quiet for a moment. “Afraid of the dark?”

“Yes, my mom would lock me in the closet and read scripture and scare me and shit. Okay? And it traumatized me so when it’s dark and I’m overstimulated I get really... panicky.” She explains defensively.

“Don’t have to fight me over it, it’s fine. I...get it.”

“Don’t tell me you were locked in a closet too?”

“No, but he did do it to my brother. And it was a mausoleum and not a closet.”

“Fuck.” she exhales.

“Yeah. Pretty fucked up.”

“The more we learn about each other the more often we say that.”

“Get used to it.” He huffs out a laugh. They walk for a moment in comfortable silence while Eve tried to let her defenses down against him. “You know you could’ve just... asked me to come with you ya know? I am pretty handy when it comes to navigating the city. And being a bodyguard.”

“It’s not something I’m proud of.” She shakes her head. “Yeah, Diego? Hey, could you babysit me because I’m a child who’s afraid of the dark and not a grown-ass woman who can handle her own shit?”

“Well, it’s better than you almost stabbing me!”

“And whose fault was that?”

“...your moms if you want to get really technical about it.”

She lets out a weak laugh and he feels accomplished. ”Don’t forget your dad too”

“Oh yeah fuck both of them.” He says eagerly in agreement. They share a smile and he stays close to her side. “Why are you looking for an apartment?” He breaks the silence.

“Some asshole keeps breaking into mine.”

“Seriously.” He grins and smacks her arm.

“Well I’m on salary now and it’s good money so I can afford a better place.”

“Oh. I kinda like your place.”

“I don’t hate it but it’d be nice to have some more room. An office, a view.” They stand at a corner to wait for a light change. “I’d like a place with more privacy. Maybe a doorman for safety?”

“And that apartment had all that?” He motions back with his thumb.

“Yeah, it was stupid nice for the area. I was surprised it wasn’t more-“ both their heads snap to the car that passed far too fast and close, and luckily it wasn’t them, but a bike messenger up ahead that going to be the target.

They see it happen so fast, and they’re both instinctually moving towards the man that’s now on the ground and trying not to scream, holding his leg.

They were the only ones close out of the street and rush to help.

“Ah fuck, don’t call the ambulance I dont have insurance okay?”

“Well, you’re not walking anywhere like that.” Diego states obviously.

“Lucky for you I’m a Doctor. Let me see. Can you move it?” She moves his sock down to quickly see bone through skin. “Ah man, I’m sorry to tell you this but it’s really...broken dude.” She looks at him with sympathetic eyes.

“Ah fuck.” They cry. “My boss is gonna fire me for sure now. I can’t afford to get this fixed… I can’t take time off…” they begin to hiccup and tears come quickly.

Eve stares at the trauma site and furrows her brow in thought. “Maybe I can…” she whispers.

“Doc...?” she hears Diego’s voice, a warning behind her.

“I’m gonna try. I have to.” She says with wide eyes that convince him on impact. She turns back and puts her hands on the busted ankle, “Stay still if you can.” She mutters before going into her focused state.

“What are you? Listen lady I appreciate you stopping but I don’t think praying over it is gonna work.” They offer but their voice slows as they gradually feel the pain disappear. “What the…” they turn their ankle in a circle and their jaw drops. “HOW DID? WHAT DID?”

Eve shares a very excited glance with Diego before he yanks her up. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Wait no! Don’t go!” A now on their feet and the healed biker was calling out as they both ran down the street into the subway below.

She felt alive. Exhilarated. A smile on her face and hand in hand with Diego as they bobbed and swerved through the crowd.

“Did you SEE?” She calls out as they make it sliding just in time into the subway car.

“YES! You didn’t tell me you’d gotten so good!”

“I’ve been practicing!” She says out of breath and glowing from a sheen of sweat that she’d developed in the rush.

“I’d say so! You just...POOF!”

“I’ll have to show you my notes.”

“Notes?”

“I’ve been keeping track of all my attempts. Like a scientific study. Well… sort of…” she shrugs and wipes her hair back.

“You would find a way to make this nerdy.” He laughs.

“Scientific method is not nerdy!”

He laughs out loud. “That’s the nerdiest thing you’ve ever said!”

“That was awesome though right?”

“Yeah, it was risky but...awesome.” He nods in agreement as they both calm back down and move into whispers of her trial and error.

——————————-

“You just have to remember to be defensive and not just offensive.”

“You know I don’t give a shit about sports Diego.” Eve laughs as she pulls her gym bag over her shoulder.

“I’m serious! You'll get-" he insists with a whine.

"You’ll get yourself hurt when shit gets real.” She says with him and rolls her eyes. “I know! Okay?” She says with a sassy hand motioned his way. “I’ll work on it. Like I always do. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, cut me some slack.” She groans as he walks her to the front of the gym to leave.

They’re met with a thin and friendly-looking guy their age who she thought looked familiar. Diego’s body language automatically tenses.

“Oh hello there you.” Klaus coos at Eve whose bright friendly eyes don’t match Diego’s already annoyed ones at his appearance. “I didn’t know my brother would be busy with a beautiful woman tonight, my apologies.” He sweeps his hands and takes her's to kiss the back of it.

“Hi.” She stutters with surprise. “I was just leaving. Had a training session. Works got weird hours so your brother is nice enough to see me at night.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d see a lovely thing like you anytime you wanted.”

“Let her go, Klaus.”

“What is your name before our paths separate and never meet again. I’d never forgive myself for not asking.”

“It’s Eve.” She laughs. “You’re much nicer than Diego. Do you know how to fight too? Maybe you could train me since he’s such an asshole.” She motions to Diego and Klaus lets out an amused sound.

“Alas I’m fairly useless in such things but I make up for it in other ways.” He winks.

“Okay! GOODNIGHT EVE.” Diego says politely pushing her out the door. “Sorry about Klaus He's…an idiot.”

“No apologies he's rather charming.” She teases him more and waves goodbye as she exits into her cab.

“What the fuck was that?” Diego shoves his lanky brother.

“Eve hmmm? A sexy name for a sexy little-“

“Stop it.” Diego groans.

“That’s her isn’t it?” Klaus smirks and begins to float about as Diego closes up.

“Her who?”

“Your mystery doctor.”

Diego doesn’t answer hoping naively that Klaus would stop.

“Oh come on, I’m your bro, your bud. Your pal. You can tell me.” He insists with outstretched arms.

“Yeah. I’m training her.”

“She seems like she’d be the one training you if you catch my drift.”

“It’s not like that.”

“That smile you had on your face before you realized I was watching would say otherwise.” He lilts. “You’re a terrible liar Diego just don’t try.”

“I’m a great liar!” He barks back.

“You’re shit and you should just be honest with me, I AM the psychic after all.”

“You’re not psychic you see the dead and-“

“And what is the difference?!” Klaus flops just hands at his side and follows his brother upstairs.

Diego continues as if he said nothing. “You’d have to be sober to do that so so I’m not gonna hold my breath on that.”

“I actually have been. Not that you supportive lot would notice.” He prances into the apartment behind a grunting Diego. “Because your little girlfriend is causing quite the ruckus amongst the city’s dead.”

“What?” Diego asks with a raised brow.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She almost brought one back.”

“She did…” he seems deep in contemplation for a moment. “Wait so you HAVE been sober?” Diego’s eyes turn soft and Klaus groans as he’s quickly approached and hugged.

“You are missing the point here Diego dear…”

“I’m proud of you.” He says with emotion in his voice and Klaus manages a heavy sigh and a pat to his back.

“Stop it now before I have feelings…” he pats him and pushes him away. “What do we know about this Eve? She’s messing with the balance, she’s a powerful little thing. And gorgeous I might add, I’d be keeping her to myself too. Unless she was into being shared…”

“I don’t think she is.” Diego falls back into his monotone answering after a brief glimmer of earnest emotion.

“Different strokes, different folks.” Klaus shrugs. “So is that ass as breathtaking as it looked in those leggings or-?”

“KLAUS!”

“What? I’m just a red-blooded American male, I see a nice ass, I admire it.”

“I wouldn’t KNOW.” He answers from behind the doorway of his bedroom, door left open. “But I’d have to say yes.” He adds quickly.

“Ahhhh! There he is.” Klaus applauds his brother's cheeky smile. “Now that you’re not in a prudish mood, I actually do want to know about her. Details, man! Out with it! What’s my little private dick figured out on our newest sibling?”

“Ew don’t say that.”

“I knew you wanted to fuck her.” Klaus smirks.

“Jesus Klaus!” Diego groans.

“Not that it’s stopped any of us before, cough Luther, cough.”

“Hey, we’re not biological!”

“Defending Luther now? Number one? Daddy’s goodest boy? Diego’s sworn nemesis?”

“EW! No! I’m just… saying. It’s a fact so...it’s...valid.”

“Good thing you’ve got your looks hun.” Klaus tsks.

“Do you wanna know about her or you wanna talk shit and get hit?”

“So hostile.” Klaus shakes his shoulders. “Go on you party pooper, tell me about our new super doctor.”

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​ @jaegeeeeer​ @diegos-butt​ @anglovesthis

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fanfic #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #david castañeda

[oliviastan17]

Just a dream (2/7)

Length: 3.1k

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, smut, abusive ex, shit ton of angst

A/N: You all asked for part 2 so here it is! This picks up right where part 1 ended. I hope you like it! Hopefully part 3 will come soon! Reblog if you feel like it! DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER WEBSITE! I do not own any of the gifs.

When Sebastian woke up the next morning you weren’t in bed with him. He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at his clothes still piled up on the floor. He could not have stopped the smile from forming on his face if his life depended on it.

He slid his jeans on and zipped them up while walking from your bedroom to your living room. He found you sitting at your dining room table with one knee up by your chest while you read something on your laptop. You took a bite out of a piece of pumpkin pie you were holding like a slice of pizza when you heard him laugh.

“Don’t judge me,” you said with a warning tone and your mouth full.

“No judgment here. Only adoration,” he said as he walked over to you. He leaned over and gave you a kiss that was interrupted by your phone buzzing on the table. You glanced at the caller ID and rejected the call with a swipe of your finger.

“There’s coffee over there if you want some,” you said while pointing to the coffee pot.

“Do you want to go get real breakfast?”

“Pumpkin pie is the breakfast of champions. I’m shocked you don’t know that.”

He laughed while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“No, I actually have to start getting ready for a meeting,” you said with a slight pout as you stood up to refill your coffee. Your phone buzzed again and you rejected the call again. He took a sip of his coffee as you walked towards him wearing only your red sweatshirt from the night before and some black underwear. He pulled you in for kiss. As he deepened the kiss he quickly picked you up off the floor and set you on the counter in the kitchen. He had one arm around your waist and was stroking your thigh with his other hand.

“No, you can’t do this to me now. I really have to go to this meeting,” you said as you pulled away.  You didn’t want him to stop but you needed him to so you could keep your job.

He took a deep breath. “Can I see you tonight?”

“If you let me get ready now, then, yes,” you said as you smiled and kissed him.

“Yeah…” Kiss. “You should…” Kiss. “Get ready…” Kiss.

Your phone buzzed once again.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grunted while hoping off the counter. You grabbed your phone off your table and rejected the call for the 3rd time that morning.

“Do you need to get that?”

“It’s just those annoying robocalls,” you lied. “I’m gonna get in the shower. I can drop you by your place on the way to my meeting if you want.”

There was something about the way you changed the subject so quickly that stood out to him. You had already gone into your bathroom and closed the door or he would have questioned you more.

*******************************************************************************************

The next few weeks were crazy busy for both of you. There were long night shoots which were brutal to say the least and then the added task of trying to switch your sleep schedules back to normal was driving you crazy. You were still finding time to see each other and staying the night together a few times a week but he couldn’t help noticing you were being a little distant. And he didn’t know why.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”  he asked. You were being so quiet at dinner and barely ate.

“Huh? Oh…uh sorry. I’m just so stressed right now…and tired. Work is crazy,” you said with a forced smile.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”

You pulled your phone out to check the time and then placed it on the table.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom before we go.”

Something’s not right he thought to himself.

He paid the bill and checked some emails while he waited for you. Your phone lit up on the table with a text message and the light caught his eye. Underneath the notification he noticed it said you had 17 missed calls. 17? Yeah, something is definitely not right.

“Ready?” you asked as you walked back up to the table and placed your hand on his back.

“Yeah.”

The ride home was quiet. Sebastian was having an internal debate on whether he should confront you about the missed calls or just let it go. Your mind was preoccupied. You were just staring out the window with your elbow resting on door and your hand holding your head up.

“You still getting those robocalls?” he asked staring straight ahead at the road.

“Yeah. I’ve blocked some of them but others keep calling.”

“You should just change your number.”

“I’m going to once this shoot is over. Right now there are too many people from work who have this number. It would be a nightmare to change it right now.”

He nodded and never once took his eyes off the road.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked as he pulled up to your house.

“I promise I’m okay. I just need to sleep.”

You leaned in and your hand pulled his face in for a kiss. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been myself this past week. I just have a lot going on right now.”

“It’s okay. Go get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and then kissed you again.

Once inside you went straight into the kitchen for a glass of wine, made sure your phone was on silent so any unwanted calls wouldn’t wake you during the night and then straight into your shower (with the wine, obviously) hoping the hot water and alcohol would relax you enough so you could sleep. It worked well and once you were in bed it only took you 2 minutes to fall asleep. You actually hadn’t realized just how exhausted you actually were.

*******************************************************************************************

 You were in much better spirits the next day at work. Maybe it was getting some much needed sleep or the fact that there were only 2 more days of work until shooting went on break for Christmas…Sebastian really didn’t care why.

“Okay, here you go,” you said to Anthony while handing him a cell phone. “You are going to open this folder, scroll down to the third message, and click this button.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it Y/n.”

“Please don’t break the phone this time,” you said pleading. “Just put it in your pocket until the camera is rolling.”

“Now that’s just offensive. I’m a professional. I don’t have time to push random buttons and make the phone freeze.”

You tilted your head to the side and gave him a look that said you are so full of shit.

Your walkie beeped-“Hey Y/n Sebastian said the arm is pinching him.”

“Be there in a minute,” you replied. “I’m begging you Mackie…please don’t break it.”

He placed the phone in his jacket pocket and you gave him a smile as you mouthed the words “thank you” then headed over to Sebastian’s trailer.

“Hey, what’s the problem?” you asked while walking in and closing the door behind you.

“I’m going to need you to not wear those leggings while we are at work. They are very distracting,” he said as he pulled you in to kiss you.

“Then I’m going to need you to stop wearing blue because it brings out your eyes but we both know that’s not going to happen,” you replied kissing him back. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to get you alone for a minute.”

You smiled while rolling your eyes and gave him a quick kiss before pushing him away.

“You know, they can’t fire you cause your name is in the title but they could absolutely fire me for having an inappropriate relationship.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. And besides everyone here likes you better than they like me,” he said snaking his arms around your waist.

“Hands off when at work,” you reminded him.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

“I’m watching Noah and Harper, remember?”

“Oh I forgot. How about…”

He was cut off by your walkie talkie beeping

“Y/n, Kari wants to talk to you.”

“Yeah, on my way,” you said over the walkie talkie.

You gave Sebastian one last kiss and turned around to leave his trailer. He playfully smacked your ass and when you turned around he had the most charming smile on his face. You shook you head and rolled your eyes as you left the trailer.

*******************************************************************************************

 The next day at work was the last day before you went on a break for Christmas. It would be a short day, by filming standards at least, and then tonight was a holiday party for crew and cast members.

This being a ‘paid for by Marvel’ party, you were expected to dress fancier than normal. Since you lived in jeans, leggings, and pajamas it was not at all something you looked forward to.

Sebastian picked you up at 10 and when you opened the door he took one look at you and could feel his eyes dilate.

“You look…I…I don’t have words,” he said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled.

“Thank you. But don’t get too used to me dressing up cause tomorrow its back to leggings and sweatshirts,” you said as you kissed him.

 The party was amazing with expensive champagne and some of the most delicious food you had ever tasted. While you very much had a no touching policy when at work you in no way stopped Sebastian from putting his arms around you and whispering in your ear. This was also the first time you had seen Chris since the last time you all went out. He smiled and gave a thumbs up seeing the PDA.

Sebastian eventually managed to lead you away from the crowd and over to a corner of the room where he leaned against the wall pulling you in and kissing you.

“You ready to go?” you asked even though you could feel the answer hardening in his pants.

“I’ll meet you outside. I have to say a few goodbyes,” he replied.

You said a few goodbyes as well and walked out with a couple people who worked in the set design department and waited for the car to pull around. Sebastian and Chris walked out soon after.

For Sebastian, it happened in slow motion almost. He saw you standing about 25 feet away laughing and taking a picture with some co-workers when someone he didn’t recognize came up and grabbed your arm. You turned around and he couldn’t hear what you were saying but you didn’t look happy. You started to walk away from him but he grabbed your arm again, this time with much more force. You pushed him back and this time Sebastian heard you yell “Stop it!”

“Y/n!” Sebastian called while he and Chris were running towards you.

The man looked up and pulled hard on your arm causing you to wince.

“Oh, this must be the reason you’re not answering my calls. Is this who you’re fucking now?” he screamed.

The look on Sebastian’s face while running towards you was one you had only seen when he was playing the Winter Soldier. It was like focused rage. If you didn’t know that in reality he was like a little lost puppy you would have been scared of him.

You managed to pull your arm free just in time to place your hand on Sebastian’s chest and push him back.

“Scott, get the fuck out of here,” Chris said as he stepped in between you and your ex.  

“I don’t have to listen to you. Slut is probably fucking you too,” said Scott.

“Seb, get Y/n out of here,” he said calmly over his shoulder while Sebastian grabbed your hand and led you to the car. “If you ever touch her again…” Chris began to say but what he said next was so quiet you couldn’t hear.

Sebastian was so full of adrenaline he was shaking.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a monotone voice as the car pulled away.

All you could do was nod. You were in a state of shock with silent tears falling down your face. Scott was a cheater, yes, and he had been calling you nonstop for the last few weeks but he had never physically hurt you before tonight.

As you walked into Sebastian’s house you walked straight into the kitchen and opened the cabinet where you knew he kept a pack of cigarettes. Neither of you smoked very often but right now you desperately needed the calm nicotine provided. You walked outside to his backyard, lit the cigarette and took a long drag. He followed you outside, handed you a beer and lit one of his own.

“So…robocalls huh?”

You slowly nodded keeping your eyes forward.

“Talk to me.”

You took a deep breath.

“I guess one of his friends saw us waiting for our cars the night of James’ party and he told Scott. He started calling the next day. I answered once to tell him to fuck off but he just kept calling.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know Seb. I mean, it’s not like you are my boyfriend or anything and…” you said as you turned and looked him in the eye. He had a hurt expression on his face.

“Wait…that’s not what I meant. I just mean we haven’t talked about it or made it official or anything and I honestly didn’t think Scott was this insane. I thought he would leave me alone eventually.”

“Okay. Well, let’s talk about it. Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Great. Me too. We’re official. That solves one problem.”

You turned to look at him with tears in your eyes.

“How is this even going to work Seb?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re done filming in 2 months. You don’t live here. I can’t move to New York.”

“First of all, come inside. You’re shivering,” he said as he stood up and took your hand to lead you inside.

Once inside he put his arms around you.

“Second, I get offers for jobs that film here a lot so…”

“And how is that fair to you? To have you accept a job just because it’s here?” you asked breaking the hug as you brought your hand up to rub above your left eyebrow. That was your tell that you were stressed. He had seen you do it multiple times on set.

“Wait, is this why you have been stressed? You’ve been thinking about this for a while haven’t you?”

Your lack of an answer was all the answer he needed.

“Oh my god, you have got to talk to me! Stop shutting me out or this is never going to work,” he practically begged. “Shit! And I thought being around you while you were engaged was frustrating,” he said as he turned and walked into his bedroom.

You took a moment, took off your shoes and then followed him.

As you walked in he was taking his shirt off and then he sat on his bed. His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID, then answered.

“Hey man…yeah she’s okay…” He took a pause then said, “Chris says you’re annoying but he’s got your back.”

“Tell him he can suck my…”

“Yeah she says she loves you too,” he cut you off. He knew what you meant.

“Alright, see ya,” he said and then hung up. “You two are the most dysfunctional friends I’ve ever met.”

You smirked as you walked over to him. You hiked up your dress as you sat on his lap straddling his legs.

After taking a deep breath and touching your forehead to his you said, “You’re right.”

“I know,” he said with a smile as his arms pulled you in closer. “Look, we don’t have to figure all this out tonight. But I’m willing to fight for this if you are.”

You pulled your face away from his to look into his eyes. Your hands cupped his face while you nodded. You pulled him in and pressed your lips to his while he unzipped your dress and pulled it off over your head. When you brought your arms back down and rested them on his shoulders he could very plainly see red marks above your elbow from being grabbed earlier. Very gently he kissed your right arm and then stared into your eyes while tucking some hair behind your ear. 

Bringing you closer so that his lips touched yours again he held you tight while he leaned back and then rolled over to be on top of you. With one hand holding him up, the other hand was softly touching your breast and then he traced his way down to your underwear leaving a trail of goose bumps. He broke the kiss to remove them and then took off his pants. Crawling back on top of you he kissed you so intensely it caused a soft moan to escape your lips.

Forget the foreplay. He needed to be as close to you as 2 people could possibly be.

Your back arched as your bodies connected fitting together like puzzle pieces. Your hands moved up to the back of his neck to draw him in for a kiss. He began moving his hips to pump in and out while he kissed your neck. He sped up his pace while one of his hands held him up and the other one had a grip on your thigh. He was (as usual) hitting every single right spot, including a new one you didn’t know you had, and then he felt you tighten around him. With an “Oh god!” you let go and came, probably leaving behind some fingernail marks on his back which he didn’t mind at all. With a few more thrusts he came right after you did.

As he laid on his back with you lying on your side and your arm resting on his chest he thought about how something was different tonight. The sex was always great with you but tonight it felt more…intimate. Like you had finally dropped the walls you had built up because you had been hurt before and let him in. Everything that happened tonight made you vulnerable and instead of hiding, you let him in. He made you feel safe.

Normally you weren’t a very cuddly sleeper but you never moved from his side that night. 

Next Chapter

Tag List

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile​

@stangirl-fangirl264​

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #chris evans #platonic!chris evans #fatws #tfatws #sebastian stan imagine

[sharinluna]

MLQC Chapter 17 Translation Part 1(Do not reblog)

DO NOT COPY, QUOTE, REPOST OR REBLOG THIS ANYWHERE. Links are okay but I don’t want this post to spread too much in other communities or websites.

Translation of excerpts from chapter 17.

This is not a full translation, only some parts. It’s more like a abbreviation/summary/paraphrasing of some parts of the story. Do not ask me to translate more or reveal more plots in the story.

The translation is based on KR version text. I’m not a professional translator and get things wrong. So do not regard this as the actual canon story.

I used Yōurán as the name of MC because that is the unofficial default MC’s name in CN version.

If you want to read chapter 15 & 16 translations, I tagged them under #mlqc translation

HEAVY SPOILERS AHEAD

******************

Yesterday’s abrupt call from Dr. Song made me nervous. I called her back several times but no one answered.

As soon as I woke up next morning, I took the bus 330 to the hospital. Due to the early hours the bus was empty. With the influenza there were few people seen outdoors.

A tall young man carrying a skateboard and with earphones on his ears got on the bus. His lazy eyes met mine for a second. He sat next to me even though there were enough empty seats. I discreetly moved further away from him.

He sat cross-legged as if he didn’t have a care in the world and took out what looked like an MP3 player. A glance at the screen told me he was listening to Holiday by Green Day. Although he was listening with his earphones, the bus was so quiet that I could hear the blaring music too.

I must have stared at him too long, because he looked at me and raised his eyebrows. His lips were twitching as if to smile.

??: You want to listen in?

Yōurán: N, No thanks.

A little bit embarrassed, I waved my hand at him and turned in the other direction.

As I was looking out the window, the familiar pain assaulted my head again. A beam of white light came and went. In a familiar crossroads the bus 330 suddenly lost control and hit a woman crossing the streets.

As soon as the vision cleared I raised my head up. The accident was going to happen just a curve away! My vision was predicting the future again!

Yōurán: Stop the bus, please!

Without losing a second I stood up and yelled at the driver.

Driver: Miss, we didn’t arrive at the stop yet.

The driver looked at me as if I was crazy and went on driving.

Yōurán: I’m really sorry, but I have to get off right now! It’s an emergency! Please park the bus on the wayside!

Driver: No way! It’s not far till the bus stop, so just quit it and stop bothering me!

Yōurán: But…!

The bus was turning the curve now, and I hadn’t yet thought of a way to get him to stop.

The sky outside suddenly turned dreary. Then a gleaming flash of lightening landed on the ground near us with thunderous noise. It was a terrifying sight. Then it started to rain like it was flooding.

Driver: What’s with this sudden downpour? The weather forecast said there would be no rains today…

The driver, muttering, stopped the bus on the street.

Driver: It’s raining too much. Everyone, get out!

With soaring spirits I sprinted outside into the rain. The drenching downpour couldn’t hinder my hurrying footsteps. Please, please don’t let my vision come true!

The woman from my vision was crossing the street with an umbrella. Her steps were sure and stable. When she reached the other end of the street she kept on walking and turned the corner and went away safely.

I changed the future! Pure joy filled my heart. I was soaked but I was thankful for the rain. Then the raindrops that were pouring down on my head vanished. I looked up and saw an umbrella.

The young man from the bus shoved the umbrella to me. He averted his eyes when I looked at him, I could smell faint tobacco. I opened my mouth to say something but he was already walking away.

??: There’s no need to thank me.

His voice called out to me among the rain.

Yōurán: I wasn’t…

The rain gradually stopped. I could see a rainbow above the sky. It seemed like was a symbol of the miracle that I just experienced.

**********************

Yōurán: Excuse me, did Dr. Song come to the hospital today?

Doctor: No, she hasn’t been here for a few days.

Yōurán: But I got a call from her yesterday telling me to meet her here.

Doctor: She was transferred to a different hospital yesterday.

Yōurán: Do you know which hospital?

Doctor: It’s The 5th Hospital in the East District. It only hospitalizes critical flu patients.

I continued my search and noticed that all of Dr. Song’s records seemed to be disposed. Why was she transferred so suddenly? Right after she called me last night and abruptly ended the call?

**********************

The 5th Hospital in the East District was in a secluded area of the city. I researched and found out that the hospital was not well known by people.

I hid behind a tree as I spied the hospital building. Except looking quite old, the building looked ordinary. I have already memorized the floor plans of the hospital, and on a hunch, the records room on the fifth floor was the most suspicious, since it was bigger than necessary.

I used my reporter license to get into the quarantine zone and brought along a doctor’s gown and mask, along with a forged identification. The security guard only glanced at my ID and let me inside the hospital.

**********************

??: Hey

I startled and looked up from my investigation. In the upstairs lobby, a man was looking down at me. I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but his silver hair gleamed in the moonlight.

??: Give me that notebook you’re holding.

He didn’t raise his voice, but it was clearly a command.

Yōurán: Who are you? Why should I give this to you?

Deciding that I should leave immediately, I sneakily snapped a photo of the page I was reading.

Suddenly the lights went on and footsteps could be heard.

??: Back off.

He went over the rail and landed on the ground.

Yōurán: You…

He was standing in front of me. Half of his face was hidden in shadows, but I could see the sharpness of his eyes and eyebrows. He took the notebook away from my hands before I finished my sentence.

??: Let’s go.

Yōurán: Wait, where?

I looked at him warily. His demeanor aside, it didn’t seem like he would harm me.

??: Let’s trade this notebook for your way out.

He dragged me to the corner of the room, where there was a small door.

??: Go out this way. It’s safe.

With those brusque words he made to leave. I don’t know where the courage came from, but I reached my hand out to grab him. But he went out of my grasp.

Yōurán: What about you then?

??: Do not get in my way.

He disappeared among the shelves.

Yōurán: Thank you…

I whispered and went out the way he told me.

**********************

At last I could see the exit outside! But then I saw someone lurking in the doorway. I tried to turn around and run but a cold metal object touched the back of my head.

Man in black: Don’t move.

It was a gun.

Man in black: You’d better come with us.

Yōurán: I have a friend who’s going to come for me. Let me go now.

Man in black: Shut up!

He sealed my mouth with duck tape and covered my eyes with black cloth. He pointed his gun at my head again and I had no choice but to follow.

After walking along a long corridor, he pushed me roughly, causing me to almost fall down.

The smell of disinfectants and blood pierced through my nose. I could also smell something rotting. A hand ripped away the tape from my mouth and grabbed my jaw.

Man wearing black: Where is the notebook?

Yōurán: I have no idea what you are talking about.

With a cruel sneer he lifted me up and landed me on a metal table. With clicking sounds, my body was strapped to the table. Uncontrollable fear shot through me and I thrashed around, forgetting the existence of the gun pointing at my head. But it was no use, more shackles chained my body until I couldn’t move a muscle.

Extreme panic took over me. I could hear the bells of doom ringing in my ears counting down the moments that I dreaded more than anything.

A sharp needle pierced my hand. Icy fluid flowed in my veins. My resistance was feeble and my consciousness was starting to let go.

It seemed like they ripped a hole in my heart. Something inside flowed out and revealed the truth. A scene that looked like it came from my past played in my mind.

White walls. A deserted lab. A cold med table.

And a blond boy with agony in his face. Next to him lay a brown-haired girl who was unconscious.

…Was that me? I looked at the blood pouring out from the IV. Tears came from my eyes.

Kiro… Our lives were connected long before. But where are you now?

My body was growing colder and colder.

I heard someone saying: The surgery is a success.

The little girl’s face was unbelievably pale, but the blond boy slowly opened his blue eyes. He reached out and grabbed the girl’s hand but she didn’t wake up from her comatose state.

I thought back to the day when we said goodbye on the TV tower. When his golden eyes looked at me and smiled.

Kiro: Wait for me, Miss Chips.

I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go on waiting…

Like a fish losing water, I breathed my final breath.

**********************

I’m dreading how this will turn out to be because chapter 17 is the toughest for me to translate because I understood the least about this chapter. 

Anyway, Kiro and MC’s shared past of being test subjects is revealed again. It seems like Kiro was transfused with MC’s blood to empower his evols or something. (And since Kiro’s blood type is O, we can imply that MC’s blood type is O as well.)

I don’t think Black Swan just ended with blood transfusion. MC fainted in chapter 8 when faced with her painful memories and in chapter 9 she was unconsciously denying her traumatic past. Her fear of needles is derived from her PTSD. I don’t know the full extent, but BS did a lot of horrible things to child MC and Kiro.

Also, MC and Kiro have a lot of twin/soulmate motives. They have same blood types, in one of the dates Kiro said he wanted to change his birthday to be the same as MC’s. CN players say that Yōurán’s symbol is the moon, and Kiro is the sun.

#mlqc #mlqc spoiler #mlqc translation #mlqc chapter 17

[melonkooky]

secret violinist [min yoongi]

requested

word count: 1960

genre: mainly fluff (or all fluff)

author’s note: firstly, i’m sorry this took so long. and that it ended up being so short. for some reason i had trouble writing it. and it didn’t help that i started writing this weeks ago and then am just finishing it now. i’m deeply sorry that this isn’t my best work. i’m trying to get back into writing. also, please ignore any mistakes or inconsistencies. 

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

perhaps it was the smoothness of when the hairs of the bow glides against the strings, producing the most beautiful melodies. perhaps it was the music itself, the notes and sounds that could be produced from this instrument. perhaps it was the feeling of the cool wood underneath your chin, or the feeling of its neck in your hand as your fingers pressed down on its strings.

the violin had also been a huge part of your life. it all began when your father and mother took your to a nearby thrift shop. it was more of a garage sale only without the garage. it was an old store that had been around for ages. they always carried a series of knickknacks and clothes and other necessities. it was there that you first came across a violin. 

the instrument was very old them. though you were too young to notice then, the wood had been very run down, and a string was broken. you had released your father’s hand to go towards it. you were fascinated by it. you had never seen it before. once you stood in front of it, out of curiosity, you gently plucked a string. a very dull sound emitted from it, because of an untuned string, and it scared you. but after the sound faded, you did it again, and again, until you were playing a random song that had no rhythm or melody. you were laughing, until your mother took your hand off it, scolding you for running off and then apologizing to the shop owner. she was an old lady, and she simply smiled, and told you that you could have it for free.

you father got it tuned somehow and from then on, years later, you played that violin. you played all throughout your school years, all the way to college. over those years, you’ve bought two new ones, have to upgrade sizes until they couldn’t get any bigger. now, you were in college, studying music and violin. you used the ones at school to practice because they were far newer and far more beautiful than your own. 

you spent a lot of your time after school practicing alone in the music room. no one ever came since typically people practiced in the mornings, that was also when classes were. you enjoyed being alone, all by yourself, just you and the violin.

you always played with a smile on your face, eyes concentrating on your fingers and then the music sheets in front of you.

tonight, however, your phone interrupted your practice session. you nearly didn’t hear its ring over the sound of mozart. you gently set down the instrument and its bow before picking your phone up. it was your boyfriend, min yoongi.

you cleared your throat, your cheeks already blushing after seeing his caller id. “hello?”

“babe, do you realize how late it is?” he asked.

his voice wavered slightly, as if he was trying to make the worryness in his tone. you don’t know why he tried to hide it, although it was slightly amusing.

your eyebrows furrowed. you tried to glance around, but there weren’t any windows in this particular music room, which you found unusual. so, you didn’t know. “no.” you replied hesitantly.

you heard him sigh. “where are you? i’ll come pick you up.”

“i’m still at school.”

“at school? what have you been doing all this time?”

“studying, doing homework, what else would i be doing?” you replied, laughing quietly. it was a lie, but it also made sense.

the truth was, you haven’t told yoongi about your hobby. you were insecure about it, which you knew was silly. but, just the thought of him knowing that you liked to play the violin and even wanted to possibly make a career from it, scared you. he was one of the greatest musicians, one of the most talented people in the world. you felt that you didn’t compare. 

“well, i’ll be there soon.”

“i’ll wait outside.” you said and then hung out.

you sighed. you needed a break anyway. your fingers were sore already for the extensive amount of time that you’ve spent playing. and you already had hard, red bumps on your fingers.

you packed up the violin and its bow and returned the case to its rightful spot in the instrument room. then you cleaned up your area, putting away the sheet music and the stand and stacking your chair, and then turned off the lights.

walking through the school, you noticed that it was dark. it was late, and that explained why yoongi had sounded worried. he didn’t know where you were. you were supposed to be home. you were reassured, though, that you weren’t alone. there were a few other students you passed by in the hallways or saw in the library and classrooms. they all seemed just as tired as you felt. they should go home too.

as you walked outside, you noticed yoongi’s car pull up to the curb. you hurried over to it, already shaking from the chilling coldness of december. your teeth were chattering as you slid into the passenger seat. “hey.” you greeted.

“hurry and close the door.” he said with a laugh, watching you drag your backpack over your lap while trying to close the door. “you’re letting all the warm air out.”

you made a face at him, you were trying your best after all. “i’m trying.”

finally, you and your backpack were in the car and the door was safely shut. yoongi drove away from your college, heading in the direction of the apartment that you and him both shared. 

----

the bell rang rather irritatingly in your ears. everyone began to pack up their instruments and head to their next class. you took your time, you didn’t want to go to your next class as it wasn’t anything related to music. it was just a required class.

as you were putting the violin away, your professor approached you. she had a smile on her face. “mrs. yung?” you asked, tugging your bag over your shoulder. you were confused to say the least.

she held out a piece of paper to you. it was information about an upcoming competition for all musicians. you gulped, hesitantly taking it from her. she stared at you in eagerness. “y/n,” she began, “i think you have a lot of potential. i can see great things in you, the way you play, how you sound, all of it. i think you could really get somewhere with your talent.”

your cheeks heated up. you fought against the wide grin on your face, causing your cheeks to ache. “really?” you asked, she nodded. “thank you!”

she nodded once more. “now, get to class. i expect to see you in here after school. you have a lot of preparing to do.” her eyes remained hard, but she was fighting a teasing smile on her face.

“of course, of course.”

you went about your day with the competition on your mind the entire time. what piece should you play? that was the real question.

as you walked home, since you had a few hours of free time before you would go to the music room, you tried to think. you didn’t know which song would be the one that would win you the contest. it had to be one that you could play. it couldn’t be too much of a challenge, unless you practiced it a lot. you couldn’t make any mistakes.

yoongi was home. he looked up from his laptop as he sat on the couch, something playing on the tv. you almost told him about the competition, and how excited you were. and how surprised and overwhelmed you felt that your teacher felt that you had the ability to do it. but then you remembered that he didn’t know about your hobby. you felt conflicted.

“hey, are you okay?” yoongi asked, sitting up in the couch.

you looked at him, almost forgetting that he had been there, watching you as you had a mental conflict and internal monologue in your head. “yeah. what are you watching?” you quickly changed the subject.

——

a week has gone by, and you felt like you had a million tons of stress on your shoulders. you had been practicing as much as you could, but it didn’t feel like a enough. it didn’t help that no matter which song you found and wanted to play, it never came out sounding beautiful, as a song typically would all the other times you’ve played.

suddenly, there was a click from the music room door. quickly you pulled out your phone and checked the time. you hadn’t realized how late it was. but still, why was someone here (other than you) so late? 

you turned just as someone entered the room, the door shutting softly behind them. it was none other than your boyfriend. he was holding a few papers in his hand.

your eyes widened. “y-yoongi?” you gasped. “what are you doing here?”

he chuckled or himself, pulling down the mask that was converting part of his face. it seemed to amuse him that he managed to catch you off guard. 

he walked up to you, a proud, cheeky smile on his face as he handed you a few sheets of music, ones that you had printed out a while ago, but thought that you had thrown them out. instead they must have just slipped or fallen from your bag. 

“so,” your boyfriend began. “you play the violin.”

your cheeks began to burn. you felt so small, being in a tiny room. but the happy glint in yoongi’s eyes reassured you. he looked...happy.

you nodded, taking the sheets of music out of his hands.

“why did you hide this from me?” he asked, looking at you. “we've only been dating for, what, seven months?”

you felt silly. “i’m sorry, yoongi. i didn’t mean to. but, it’s just playing the violin has always been something that i felt insecure about, i guess, especially since i started dating you. you’re like, the most talented musical genius ever.”

he laughed again. “i believe you mean mozart or beethoven.”

you laughed alongside him, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders. “so, is this how you figured it all out?” you asked him, gesturing to the sheet music in your hand.

yoongi shrugged. “that and how you’ve hardly been at home this past week.”

your cheeks flushed again. “sorry about that. my teacher recommended that i should play in a competition. it’s in a few weeks, but it’s been quite a challenge.”

yoongi stepped closer to you. “i wish you had just told me, but at least i know now. i can help you if you like.”

you quirked an eyebrow. “but you’re more of a pianist than anything.”

“but i know music. i can still help.” he defended cutely.

you grinned. “your help would be very much appreciated, min yoongi.”

you leaned forward a pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. he blushed, before speaking, “but we’re not starting tonight. i need to sleep.”

you laughed, but felt tired yourself. so you quickly hurried back over and put away your bow and violin. you felt a lot lighter, relieved. yoongi was going to help you, he was the best help anyone could have. you idolized him as many others did, and you loved him. he was going to help you win this competition, which would be a large step into your future. as much as you were excited, you were also nervous, but you know yoongi was going to be by your side every step of the way.

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts min yoongi #bts suga #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts one shot #bts imagine #bts scenario #yoongi one shot #bts fluff #kpop

[7-wonders]

Where Angels Fear to Tread

Summary: When the morning comes, so does regret. Both you and Michael must deal with the choices that were made last night, choices that could either make or break Satan’s “plan” for his son and his son’s bride.

Word Count: 3062

A/N: Y’all this is so late and I’m so sorry. Nevertheless, I managed to get it up! Feedback is always appreciated, and if you liked this chapter, reblogs and comments would be wonderful to receive!

Read Mad Love (part one) HERE | Read Totally F***ed (part two) HERE | Read The Isle of Flightless Birds (part three) HERE | Read A Hard Day’s Night (part four) HERE | Read Pour One Out (part five) HERE 

For a brief moment when you first wake up, it doesn’t feel like you’re hungover. Although you’re tired, you’re not bolting out of bed to throw up. That blissful feeling lasts for a total of ten seconds, the hangover waiting until the sunlight hits your eyes to fully hit you. And boy, does it hit you.

“Oh, God no.” You groan, covering your face with your pillow in an attempt to alleviate some of the throbbing in your head.

You’re not too terribly nauseous, but you’re still not going to be eating a three-course meal right away. Every time you try to take the pillow off of your face, your head spins. You haven’t been this hungover in a long time, and it can only be one thing causing your pain.

“The fucking vodka.” You realize, sighing and rolling onto your stomach so you don’t have to put in the effort to hold the pillow up.

Although you’ve had vodka before, it was only a shot or two at a time, never as much as you had during your pong victory last night. It should have been enough of a warning when it smelled like gasoline, but drunk (Y/N) likes to disregard clear signs of danger. When you finally feel able to lift your head from the pillow, you thank your lucky stars that a bottle of water and some ibuprofen sits on your bedside table. Remembering how you ended up back at your apartment, you wrinkle your nose in a mixture of disdain and embarrassment.

You take the medicine quickly, too hungover to be able to think clearly about the consequences of last night’s actions. Maybe you were better off with the pain of a headache, considering that each drunk memory is even worse than the one before it.

“Did I seriously pet his hair?” You mumble, sitting up against the headboard and burying your face in your hands. Speak of the devil (or the devil’s son), your phone starts ringing the oh-so familiar ringtone. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know that it’s Michael; no one else that you know would call you, especially on a Friday morning. “Hi, Michael.”

“(Y/N), good morning.” He greets, sounding mildly shocked that you’re awake and functioning. You’re a little shocked too, honestly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck, but the truck was only going like five miles an hour.” Michael chuckles at your colorful description of how you feel. “Thanks for coming to pick me up last night, by the way. I don’t even know why I called you.”

“You called me to berate me on my behavior. You also lamented the fact that you’re married to, and I quote, ‘the fucking Anti-crust.’” You grimace, shaking your head.

“Oh no, I am so sorry.”

“No, I deserved it. Plus, you made some good points, and I’m glad you called me instead of deciding to drive yourself home.” A smile tugs onto your face at the concern Michael has for you, quickly being wiped off when the reminder of his actions yesterday sends a bolt of pain through your lip.

“We wouldn’t have driven anyways, we took a Lyft there.” You explain, pulling at a loose string on your blanket while you wait for Michael to speak.

“(Y/N),” he says after a silence long enough to make you start to wonder if he had hung up, “can I ask you a question?”

“I know what you’re getting after, and I’m sorry for referring to you as my husband when I was in front of my friends last night. In my defense, we were all really drunk and they all thought I was just being a smartass. If you’re going to punish anyone, punish me and not them.” You interject, fully taking responsibility for your slip of the tongue that gave both of you mini heart attacks.

“Huh? No, don’t worry about that. Trust me, I know that it was just a joke to them.”

“Really? Okay then, ask me your question.” Another long silence follows, one that has you huffing in annoyance. You could easily be sleeping off your headache right now, if it weren’t for Michael being dramatic on the other end of the call.

“Would you...if you would allow me to, would you like to go on a date today? With me?” It’s your turn to initiate a long silence.

The all-powerful Antichrist, who you’ve seen command congregations of ravenous followers with a mere glance and force you to give yourself to him, who holds the most frightening amount of power you’re sure anyone on Earth has ever possessed, is nervous about asking you out on a date? You’re startled out of your inner monologue by Michael calling your name through the phone.

“What?”

“Well, I asked you if you-”

“I know. I guess I was just caught off-guard. I mean, aren’t you supposed to ask me on a date before you marry me?” You ask, smiling wryly.

“I think you and I can both agree that our union is nothing if not unconventional.”

“Hmm. Say I did agree to go on a date with you. What would we do?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve never been on a date before and this was a very spur-of-the-moment decision.” Michael admits.

“Awww, how cute!” You tease, giggling when you hear him scoff.

“I’m the Antichrist (Y/N), and though I’ve been described as many things, ‘cute’ is not one of them.” He notes. It’s quiet for a moment while you consider your options, eventually deciding ‘what the hell?’

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Michael, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“We-I-uh-great.” He stutters out. “Tonight, then? I’m sure you have classes and such today, and I’d hate to force you to do something when you’re already forced to spend the weekend with me.”

You stretch the arm that’s not holding your phone above your head, glancing over at the clock to see the time.

“I actually don’t have class today. Wanna meet me at my place at eleven?” You can tell he’s shocked at your response, and you’re a little shocked too. You’re not sure if you want to confront him while sober about how he smacked you, or if his whole ‘poor, socially-stunted Antichrist’ act actually was an act.

“That would work for me.”

“Cool! I’m driving though, so you’re gonna have to do your teleporting thing.”

“Why do you get to drive?”

“Because you’re the most boring driver ever. Seriously, you don’t even listen to music?”

“It’s distracting! I like the quiet, it allows me to think.” Michael argues.

“Car rides are for bumping your favorite music, not sitting in silence, but I digress. Does eleven work for you or not, golden boy?” The ‘golden boy’ nickname is one you’re quite proud of, seeing as it’s one of the only productive things you thought of while giggling to yourself in Michael’s car last night.

“Yes, eleven works. I’ll see you then.”

“See you in a bit!” You chirp, hanging up your phone and sitting up. Suddenly, you’re aware of your devastating mistake: you have to actually get your hungover ass out of bed and dressed within an hour.

It’s definitely not your finest date outfit, but considering the man has seen you bloody and scared out of your mind, you’re not too worried about impressing him. Besides, the point of a date is to get to know a person and make them want to see you again. You’re already stuck with Michael for life, so one half of your ‘mission’ is basically completed. You rush to the door when you hear him knock, peeking through the peephole before you unlock it fully. It’s a little infuriating just how perfect Michael always looks; he seriously could have walked right off of a runway during Fashion Week. His regular attire could put some movie stars to shame, so needless to say he makes you feel extremely underdressed. Nevertheless, he still smiles the moment he sees you.

“Hi, (Y/N).” He greets, stepping into your apartment. “I, uh, got you some flowers. I know that’s what you’re supposed to give a girl before a date.” He produces a bouquet of your favorite flowers from behind his back, making your face red.

“Did you read my mind to find out my favorite flowers?” You tease, taking the bouquet from him and turning to find something to put them in.

“No, actually. You had told my Ms. Mead that these were your favorites once.” Now that you think about it, you had told Ms. Mead that; they had been on sale at the market you both frequented, and you had made a note that you had to buy them when she noticed them in your basket. “Are you feeling any better?”

“My head still hurts, but other than that I’m fine. I usually only throw up after I drink hard liquor.” There’s no vases in your kitchen, so you just grab an old water bottle and fill it up to place the flowers in.

“If you’d like, I can take your pain away?”

“You already left the painkillers out on my nightstand, pretty sure if I take anymore that’s considered drug abuse.”

“Not like that. I can...use my powers, and take your pain away. Only if you consent, of course. I told you after the wedding that I wouldn’t use magic on you without your permission, and I intend to keep that promise.” This side of Michael, the one who actually cares and shows human emotions, is easily your favorite.

“You can do that?” He nods.

“I could heal your lip, too.” Before either of you can really process it, his hand gently cups your chin, thumb lightly running across the scabbed-over cut.

“We’re going to have to talk about this, you know.” You mutter, Michael’s thumb moving away so that he doesn’t accidentally slip it into your mouth.

“Let me heal you, and then we can?” He proposes.

“Yeah, okay.” You lead him over to the couch, sitting and facing him. “So how does this work? Do you have to perform some sort of spell?”

Michael chuckles, shaking his head. It startles you to realize you’ve picked up on some of his idiosyncrasies, knowing that playing with the large rings decorating his fingers means that he’s nervous.

“No, you just need to trust me.” You hesitate for a moment before nodding your head slightly.

Michael places both of his large hands on either side of your face, your breathing hitching at the close contact. You watch as his eyes flutter closed. He doesn’t say anything, nor does he move, but you can feel the exact moment that his magic hits you. The pain in your head disappears slowly, but when it’s gone, it’s completely gone. You lip pulses in pain as the skin starts to rapidly stitch itself back together, speeding up the healing process by weeks. After Michael lets go of your face, you snatch your phone up and glance at the black screen. You’re completely healed, without even a scar to show for last night’s events.

“Who would have thought the Antichrist could use his powers to fix things instead of break them?” Michael rolls his eyes, studying your face to make sure your split lip is healed to his liking.

“(Y/N), I do want to apologize to you now that you’re sober. I wasn’t lying when I said I had never hit anyone before. I’ve done many, many terrible things in my life, but my terror of a grandmother taught me one useful thing, and it’s that you never lay your hands on a woman.”

“So why me, then? What changed last night to make you want to smack me?”

“I...I wish I had an answer that would satisfy you, but the truth is that I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You scoff, crossing your arms across your chest and laughing. “What a cop out. ‘I don’t know,’” you mock, “is one of the most blatant lies in the world. You do know, you either don’t want to admit it or you haven’t thought hard enough about it.”

Michael huffs loudly, running a hand through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before. All my life, people have either been terrified of me or they’ve worshipped me. You’re neither of those types. You challenge me, and constantly let me know that I’m not as special as my followers have led me to believe. You’re my equal, which is exactly what my father created you to be. I obviously have not handled this realization well, and I lashed out when you snapped at me.”

“Michael, you need to promise me that you’ll never touch me like that again. I don’t care what we are, or what your father wants us to be; you smack me again and I promise you that I’ll ruin your life.” You’re not quite sure how you’d ruin his life, but you both know that this is a threat you’ll follow through on.

“I promise you, (Y/N). I’m not someone who regrets his actions very often, but I regretted hurting you the second my hand left my side.”

“I believe you.” You say timidly, placing a lot of trust in his word. Although you’re not sure if this is the right decision, it’s one that you’ll have to make if this ‘marriage’ is going to work.

“Thank you.” Michael smiles. “Shall we go, then?”

“Where are we going?” You ask, taking his extended hand and letting him help you up.

“Well, I did tell you that I’ve never exactly been on a date before.” Michael says sheepishly. “What do you normally do on a date?”

“There’s a few different things that we could do.” You say, thinking for a moment. “Michael, do you like ice cream?”

Twenty minutes later, you’re walking through a small park across the street from your favorite ice cream shop with Michael, your hands subtly brushing against each other. As it turns out, he does like ice cream, and was more than pleased when you had suggested it. What he wasn’t pleased with was your taste in music on the drive over, begging you to unlock your phone so he could pick a new song. You had tortured him a little bit before obliging, only to learn that Michael actually likes some good music. His ice cream choice isn’t too bad, either: mint chocolate chip in a dish. It’s not something you’d have normally thought of getting, but it’s a flavor that seems to match Michael perfectly.

He watches while you talk about just how much precision and planning went into taking the first picture of the black hole, stopping every so often to have some of your own ice cream (chocolate chip cookie dough on a cone). You had assumed that he would be bored by your newest fascination, but instead he listens intently, smiling at how much you care about this subject.

“I never would have thought you’d be interested in space.” Michael notes.

“I’ve always loved space; when I was younger I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“Why?”

“There’s so much out there that we haven’t explored. It’s entirely likely that there is life on other planets. While we know that black holes swallow matter, we don’t know what happens to it or where it goes. There’s a law that matter can neither be created nor destroyed, so either black holes bend the laws of science or that matter goes somewhere else. It’s extremely plausible that there could be other dimensions. Plus, I really like the night sky.”

“Oh?”

“It’s...calming, in a way. It makes me feel so small, looking up at all of the different stars, yet I also feel connected to so much. Everybody sees the same sky at the same time, and it’s interesting to know that we’re seeing the light of stars that have died thousands of years ago. I could look at the constellations for hours.”

You turn around when Michael stops, facing him in confusion. You almost think he’s tripped, since he keeps looking down at his shoe, but there’s nothing there to have made it the focus of his attention. When he looks up at you, there’s a strange look in his eye. It’s not scary or anything, it’s just one that you haven’t seen Michael wear before. It’s a mixture of pain and confusion, as if he’s deciding to do something that could easily have dire consequences.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, smiling at him reassuringly. You’re actually rather enjoying this date, and his company.

“I-uh--” Michael stutters before suddenly leaning forward and kissing you.

Your eyes widen in shock, arms at your sides as you’re momentarily stunned at this turn of events. Quickly, you decide that you actually like what’s occurring right now, closing your eyes and wrapping your arm that’s not holding anything around him. For someone who’s never been on a date before, Michael’s a pretty good kisser. His full lips work easily against yours, and you can still taste the mint on his lips. He’s a little too hesitant with his kissing, but that’s something that can be easily rectified.

It doesn’t last very long at all, Michael pulling away before you can ‘show him’ how to make out. The kiss is short and sweet, two things that you would not normally associate with Michael Langdon. His face is flushed and he’s breathing heavily, looking at you to make sure he didn’t screw everything up.

“How long have you been wanting to do that?” You ask, smirking as he touches his lips.

“A week or so.” He answers.

You smile at his expression, one that’s eager to kiss you again while still being hesitant towards what you’re presuming is how you’ll react. You press your lips to his again, making Michael smile widely after you’ve finished.

“You know what you’re doing, I’ll give you that.” Since today is, apparently, about being bold, you take his hand in yours when you start walking again. With hands clasped tightly and ice cream all but forgotten about, your conversations and chaste kisses continue long into your walk.

Tag List: @sammythankyou @let-me-try-mom @ultragibbycentralworld @sebastianshoe @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @alexcornerblogthethird @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @dolceandchalamet @omgsuperstarg @queenie435 @dextergirl12345 @americanhorrorstudies @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @coloursunlimited @punkysouls @kahhlo @storminmytwistedmind @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonsdemon @langdonslove @carousallie @cuddletothecake @born-on-stgeorges-day @mega-combusken @michaelsapostle @babyloutattoo89 

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon imagine #Michael Langdon x you #Michael Langdon fanfiction #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #American horror story apocalypse #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse

[paulieshore]

The Dynamic Duo

Thank you @anxiousdork​ for the ask/idea, thoughts keep flowing with this so I think I’m going to turn this into a five-part mini story of mystery-drama/fierce friendship/growing romance/bromance.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1593

Characters: Mc, Minor, Victor, Gavin, mention of Kiki

Brief summary: Mc is presented with an opportunity by Victor to collaborate with a well-known production company from America (Barner Wors), thinking this to be a perfect opening to show just how well she can do; she immediately takes on the job with a small hand selected group from her team. However, it seems someone is sabotaging this joint production costing a bit of money in setbacks. Without knowing who, and why, fingers and accusations start flying back and forth. Victor is then involved when production comes to a halt, considering the reputation in America, Victor seems persuaded that the fault falls to you and your team. With no evidence to claim your innocence, you find yourself in an embarrassing confrontation with your biggest investor and boss. Minor steps in to support you, and then Gavin? Not knowing how Gavin knew the situation exactly, but touched none the less when he too joined in with Minor to defend your honour as a producer against the ruthless/annoyed Victor and solve this conundrum. You bear witness to a growing bromance between hero and sidekick, Gavin and Minor. They set forth to unravel if there is more too these unfortunate events as of late, you cooperate with Gavin and allow him to really use his power of authority in and around the studio. Seeing Gavin in yet another new way you find your heart beating more and more by the mere sight of him. Minor becoming possibly more of an opponent then a friend for Gavin’s affection, only later to find out Minor’s sort of digging you!

Part One: Incompetent

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.

You just couldn’t quite wrap your head around the situation, none of it made sense, and even worse the most rational of people you thought for sure could help, didn’t! Victor only seemed to have looked down on you even further, “Are you so incompetent? Can you not hold down your team and manage them as a boss should do?” You honestly didn’t know how to respond, Victor seemed so sure this was all your fault.

A fort night ago he came to you and gave you an opportunity to work with Barner Wors, they were shooting some episodes in Loveland for their newly hyped tv show. Being able to collaborate with such a famous company was beyond a dream come true. Victor may be a stern boss but occasionally gave you way to really show your potential.

The first couple of days of shooting were fine, you made introductions with all crew and actors and got things started off right. After the dust had settled, things started to go downhill after a camera ‘malfunctioned’ on set during an outside shooting. The following days, numerous of insignificant things started happening, such as props you’d provided being faulty and nearly hurting the actors. The chosen areas around Loveland for shooting becoming too wet or vandalized when coming into work, you made the decision to film what scenes you could in studio thinking weather/bratty kids had a part to play. Minor and Kiki were being suspicious during one lunch break, they couldn’t help but feel as though someone was sabotaging this collaboration. Things that only staff/crew knew were leaked to the public causing a complication. On top of that gossip about Barner Wors, some of the actors and your own team seemed to be going around. You dismissed their outward thoughts and did your best to keep everyone on track and away from criticism, sometimes bad things just happen.

One late afternoon, tension seemed to have reached its peak. Minor appeared to have had enough with the supporting actress in the scene, she was messing up her lines and making subtle hints about how ‘your team’ was to blame for all the unwanted stress and misfortune. The supporting actress was the renowned Nicole Kissman, famous for her dominating Oscar winning roles in huge box offices. She was also known for her diva like attitude off screen, with a quick revise of lines before the dramatic scene, Minor encourage her to ‘break a leg’. Well, as Nicole laid on the floor weeping in the shot, one of the spotlights above came crashing down close to her leg. This was the final straw on both sides, everyone seemed eager to pass blame, leaving you no choice but to call Victor when the lead of the production halted everything due to liability. The phone call with Victor was brief and he arrived not to long after you told him one of the actresses was involved in a near miss.

Here you were now, standing in front of everyone as Victor pressured you for an answer, “WELL?!” It was rare for Victor to raise his voice, but today everyone felt the impact it truly had.

This was beyond frustrating and further more embarrassing, you wanted to scream at him, but you didn’t want to prove any truth to the gossip lingering that you couldn’t ‘handle things.’ You wanted to cry; Minor could see the tears threatening to fall whilst your face contorted with angry.

“Handle her team? Incompetent? Mc has been ‘handling’ us and their team, during this soap opera drama of its own!” Minor pointed as he stepped forward towards Victor, placing himself between you two. “I understand you’re the big boss here, but isn’t it a little premature to lay blame on her when no one seems to have any idea what’s going on?!” Minors voice was raised in the slightest, you wanted to clamp his mouth shut. As lovely as it was for him to stick up for you, Victor was of all people someone you didn’t want to be up against.

“Excuse me, and who exactly are you, executive producer? I suggest you get back to work and let the ‘bosses’ continue talking.” Victor gave Minor a quick analyse head to toe; scowling, before looking back at you.

Minor stepped sideways, obstructing his view before pressing on, “No, you were judging, passing verdict without even hearing anyone’s side!”

Fear took hold of you, worried perhaps Minor was over stepping and possibly going to get himself fired or have Victors investment revoked, you were about to pipe in. Just then, a light calming breeze swept through the studio, moving your attention to the direction it carried. Walking through the studio doors was Gavin, announcing himself as he approached face as stoic as ever.

“Afternoon, I do apologies for the intrusion. I’m Police officer Gavin, I was called in to take statements for an incident that’s occurred to rule out…”

** scanning the studio to every one present before continuing ** 

“possible criminal intent.”

 Everyone went stiff, Gavin was in full uniform, wait…

did he say he was called??? Your gaze drifted then to Minor who was gleaming with pride at his hero friend from high school walked in.

Victor then approached Gavin, “I apologise for wasting the time and efforts of our police services, may I ask exactly why you suspect such malice?” Victor as usual, cut straight to the point.

“Miss Mc, one of your notable employees, filed a concern the other day with worries and suspicion of something not quite right within her company’s environment. Now for the safety and liability of everyone here, I will have to open up an investigation.” Though he spoke calmly and affirmative, he made eye contact with you - his eyes were saying it’s alright, I’m here now.

Victor turned to you next, “You didn’t say you called the police?” eyebrow raised.

“You didn’t exactly give her a chance before chastising her.” Minors boost of confidence to talk back to Victor, made it clear to you who called and informed Gavin of the events.

You faced Victor and simply stated, “We had to do what’s right for everyone and take account their safety.” Adding *we* in there made you feel better then taking the credit for Minors quick thinking. That didn’t stop the stress you felt for everything to come, and the guilt you had for Gavin, he was always busy with his own work and now he had ‘your work’.

Gavin walked straight passed Victor not even giving him a second glance, proceeding forward, “Id like statements from every one of today’s events leading up to my involvement, please. No one is to leave until I have received statements and should I have any further questions I advise you stay until further noticed.”

“Mc, with me now! You and I will continue our discussion as the officer here starts his investigation.” Victors says dryly as he starts walking towards the exit.

“Excuse me, Sir. You cannot leave.”

Victor stopped dead in his tracks, wiping around quickly.

“Neither of you are leaving, until I have confirmed no foul play and if there is, that you, are not involved in anyway.” Gavin was quick to speak before you could follow Victor out, he spoke boldly to the scary CEO. Throwing his authority towards Victor just like Victor had previously to you, this gave you a funny sense of pulsing in your lower pelvis, and slight heat to rise to your cheeks. Seeing Gavin assert his authority to the ‘not so easily bullied’ Victor really turned you on! You shook your head from your drifting thoughts, now of all times was not the time to swoon over Gavin’s out right bravery.

Victor and Gavin stood 8 metres apart staring at each other with such coldness in their eyes… Oh boy what a soap opera this was becoming indeed…

To Be Continued.

Like, reblog and follow for future posts, if youd like to be tagged in the next part please let me know. Thank you for reading and Thank you again anxiousdork for the inspiration to write this!

Master-List for Parts

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc minor #mr love queen's choice #mr love gavin #mr love victor #mr love minor #minor needs more credit #bring on the bromance #battle for gavin #love and producer #minor #hero and sidekick #mystery