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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

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Speak my Language (Fellowship x Hurt! Reader)

Synopsis: After being ambushed by orcs, you are left alone at your isolated camp to bleed out. However, your loyal friend, a “tyger” from Far Harad, has other plans in mind—tracking down another camp nearby, comprised of nine warriors, in search of aid for you.

Pairings: a bit of Legolas x Reader. I’m a simp for him, okay?

Warnings: blood, mentions of an attack, hurt/comfort

The attack came too fast and too swiftly. Orcs weren’t supposed to reside in this area of the forest, or so you thought. It was almost as if something were driving them to your location, like dolphins chasing down fish to the shores of oceans.

Whatever may be the case, and whoever the fish in this scenario were, you were the one left severely injured.

It started with a flickering of your tyger’s ear. Comrade, as you named him, was an exotic breed of big cat, from the furthermost southern jungles of Far Harad, where the likes of oliphaunts also roamed.

You had met the large orange, striped cat on a mission to spring all kinds of animals free on the southern shores of Middle-earth. The Haradrim were responsible for this illegal smuggling trade, though you knew someone far larger was behind it.

A mystery was unfolding in Middle-earth before your eyes. Orcs in odd locations, secret illicit activities in dark harbours, and a growing disbalance in the ecosystem.

Setting the stampeding oliphaunts loose, the wooden crates on the foggy harbour soon burst into chaos. Men ran everywhere, both trying to save themselves and their jobs.

As ropes and hooks were cast into the grey flesh of the loudly trumpeting beasts, you snuck out. However, on your escape route, a rabid, hissing animal caught your attention.

You had never seen a cat like him before, and knew instantly he was out of sorts amongst the scenery of Middle-earth. What on earth would he need stripes to blend in with? You figured he was more used to tall savannahs, if anything.

Tentatively, and knowing all could go wrong for yourself, you unlatched the lock containing your soon-to-be friend.

He leapt out and crouched lowly before you, arching his back and sizing up your neck. His teeth were large and yellow at the gums, as he flashed them viciously.

However, making the first move, you slowly showed him your empty hands, and kneeled down. A slight change in his attitude was present, as his hisses ceased and his ears unpinned themselves.

And when a Haradrim man came at you, well, all that was left were ribbons of flesh and a new partner for you.

Ever your noble protector, Comrade lifted his head from your lap, where you were running your hands through his now twitching ears.

“What is it, boy?” you cooed, tracing the black stripes on his head.

A low growl had begun to form at the back of his throat, and you stilled your hand. Though a level of trust had been formed between you both throughout the three years you walked alongside him, he was still a wild animal at the end of the day.

You took into account the twitching of his tail, and your heart stopped. You always feared Comrade might one day turn around and attack you like he did to those Haradrim. Small housecats were bad enough with mood-swings as it was.

Eyeing up his large paws, where claws the size of small shanks appeared, you grew clammy. However, a distant snapping of a branch beyond the dark trees both settled and rose your nerves.

Glancing up from Comrade, you followed his keen line of sight past your little campfire. You stared for what felt like minutes, until another branch snapping sounded the alarms.

Comrade immediately lifted himself from your lap, and stood tall. The power in his sudden movement scared you, and you found yourself jolting to your own feet.

All you had on you was a small dagger, for you liked to think of yourself as a “wise pacifist”.

You drew it in front of yourself, and scared breaths racked your chest. Comrade was pacing the dirt in front of you, eyes forever trained on the forest, tail swishing.

And then, the attack came.

A slaughter occurred between the trees and before the fire, and though you managed to assist with many kills, Comrade in the end was the clear victor.

However, one tyger against ten orcs was not entirely fair.

In the aftermath, you found yourself with your back rested against a tree—your hand clutching a dagger in your abdomen.

Orcs bodies lay strewn around, some missing heads, others with their intestines spilled on the upturned dirt. Most, however, had their jugulars torn out.

Comrade had just put to rest his last orc, and turned his panting, blood-soaked snout back to you at the sound of a small whimper. The previously feral glint in his eyes subsided, as he observed your mewling state.

Your hand clutched the pommel of the dagger, as you struggled to not look at it—favouring to keep your eyes screwed shut instead, and your chin lifted high.

He immediately thudded one paw in front of the other, as he came to stand beside you. He sniffed the dagger, and made a small sound reminiscent of chuffing to your face. He nudged his nose with your cheek, willing you to look at him.

When you did, you found amber eyes, brimming with concern, looking back at you.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” you tried with a small smile, but mewled again through the pain of speaking.

He chuffed once more, and tried to inspect the dagger. You gently pushed his head away, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

Understanding the severity of your state, he lifted his neck and stood tall. Flickering his ears in all directions, Comrade scoped out the forest. He could hear the sounds of night for many miles—owls hooting, mice rustling, squirrels climbing and…men chatting lowly around a crackling fire.

They did not sound like orcs, and turning his nose to the air above, Comrade knew instantly they were not. Instead, the scent of men and elves lingered in the breeze, and something new he hadn’t encountered before.

Without glancing back at you, he took off running through the woods.

Watching him leave in confusion, you knitted your brows. However, the throbbing split in your stomach soon burned away again, and you were left crying alone through bared teeth.

On the other side of the forest, just a few miles away, the Fellowship’s camp resided. The loss of Gandalf still rippled through the colleagues and friends like an unsettled lake, and not much was found beyond quiet chatter.

The topic, primarily, was of Lothlorien—the beautiful kingdom they had just reluctantly left.

Sat on a log, and grimacing as he ate rabbit meat off of a bone—quite different from the prepared salads with small chunks of chicken he had grown up with—Legolas watched the fire.

His fingers were sticky, and his nose was scrunched, as he attempted to eat said meat.

Next, Gimli’s chuckles filled the air.

The laughter silenced everyone, for it was the first time anyone had laughed since Moria.

Lifting his eyes, Legolas found Gimli laughing at him. “What is it?”

“A bit out of your comfort zone, aren’t we?” Gimli chuckled back, motioning to the prince’s fingers.

Legolas’ lips fell into a sarcastic frown. “That’s because I was actually raised with the idea of comfort to begin with.”

Gimli dismissively waved his hand. “All I’m hearing is pretty excuses.”

Legolas placed a sticky hand over his chest, and batted his lashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

A smirk grew on Gimli’s lips, as he pointed at the faint outline of grease on Legolas’ Lothlorien tunic.

Losing his own smirk, Legolas looked down at the clothing and sneered upon realizing his mistake.

Laughter rippled through the camp, and a few added on their own taunts in an effort to keep the happy atmosphere alive, even if at the prince’s expense.

However, Legolas had since tuned out. His head was over his shoulder, his pointed ears twitching, as he eyed off the forest behind. Distantly, snapping twigs and thudding paws could be heard.

“Don’t you think, Legolas?” Boromir laughed, slowly reeling the elf’s concerned attention back in to him. “Legolas? I said, don’t you—”

“Shh!” Legolas cut him off, whipping his head over his shoulder again.

Aragorn was the first to cease his relaxed nature, as he knew the cautious elf well-enough.

“Someone’s a bit of a soft—” Gimli had gone to say, before Legolas shushed him again.

Snapping his eyes to his friends, Legolas hastily whispered, “Do you not hear that?”

“We don’t have your—”

“Hush, let him speak,” Aragorn interjected, earning the obedience of the camp. “What is it, Legolas?”

“Something large and ambitious approaches from behind,” Legolas answered, scanning his eyes over his shoulder again.

Just as the elf did, the Fellowship dragged their sights along the trees. Slowly, following Legolas’ words and now actions, the entire camp rose to their feet and clutched their weapons.

The hobbits all nervously eyed one another, as the four stronger warriors stood in front. They each all watched the trees, and their hearts pounded faster, for they, too, could now hear what Legolas was explaining.

Loud thumps reached their ears, as did beastly panting. Legolas drew an arrow, and aimed it in preparation.

And then, Comrade burst into the camp.

The hobbits screamed in shock—in fact, both Gimli and Boromir shouted, too.

The tyger paced before them all, chuffing loudly in communication. Legolas, understanding all living things, heard the tyger speak.

Please! I need your help! My friend, she’s hurt—wounded by orcs!

Legolas lowered his arrow, much to the horror of the others.

“What are you doing?” Boromir screeched. “Shoot it down! It’s rabid! Look at the blood coating its mouth!”

“It is orc blood,” Legolas slowly drew out, knitting his brows in the direction of the tyger. “And he says he needs our help?”

Aragorn glanced at Legolas wide-eyed, and they shared a look—one dripping in superior knowledge.

Legolas made a show of disarming himself of his bow, and spoke back to the tyger in a way only elves could.

Take us to her.

The tyger turned around instantly, and began running into the woods. Aragorn and Legolas followed.

“Wait,” Pippin exclaimed in confusion, as everyone left him behind. “Has he always been able to speak with animals?! Did everyone else know this but me?!”

“Hurry up, Pippin!”

Comrade had left you twenty minutes ago, and you felt an uncontrollable shiver run through your body. It was a shiver that, despite being close to the fire, was continuous.

Your teeth chattered, and your stomach coiled at the blood soaking you. It was all over the front of your tunic, and continuing to spread. You hadn’t removed the dagger as of yet—too afraid of both the consequences and the pain simultaneously.

You felt both dizzy and tired, and only wanted a nap. Just as you were beginning to close your eyes, frantic thudding in the distance could be heard.

Weakly, you turned your eyes to the trees Comrade had left through, and waited for either your friend or more orcs to appear.

However, what you were not expecting, was a blonde elf to burst through the dark with your tyger.

The tall elf skidded to a stop a few yards before you, and gasped sharply. His widened eyes raked over your paling, clammy body in alarm.

“Oh my goodness!” he cussed, before throwing his eyes over his shoulder. “Aragorn! Come quickly!”

Next, a man burst into view. Behind him, another man, dwarf and four hobbits followed. Though, for all you knew, they were children.

White dots filled your vision, and you soon felt very delirious, as if in a dream.

The elf rushed forwards, and fell to his knees beside you. He brushed your hair out of your face to observe your half-lidded eyes, where he then spoke.

“Y/n? Y/n, are you all right? Your friend, Comrade, told me of you. Can you hear me?”

All you could make out of his face were two brilliantly blue eyes. A white, angelic light encompassed him otherwise, and the blonde hair certainly didn’t help.

You garnered a sort of dazed smile, as you scanned his blinding face. “You’re an angel, aren’t you? Sent from above? Oh thank goodness—I thought I was going to go alone.”

Listening to your soft voice, the brunette man with greasy hair dropped beside the elf.

“Her strength fails and her light fades,” Aragorn commented. He scanned his eyes over your wound. “I shall use athelas to treat the bleeding, but…this may be beyond us.”

Legolas looked at Aragorn in horror, before looking down at you again. Two deaths on his hands in such a short amount of time? The immortal elf couldn’t—wouldn’t—process it.

“We are not yet too far from Lothlorien,” Legolas pointed out, studying your tired face. “We can turn around and leave her in the hands of Galadriel and her kin. They will heal her.”

“We haven’t time to double-back and risk the orcs,” Boromir pointed out.

Next, Legolas gestured at all the strewn bodies of the camp. “It appears our fault she dies in the first place. She felt safe enough to camp in these woods, and rightfully so, but we brought the orcs with us. We must help her. She’s our duty now.”

“Legolas is right,” Aragorn agreed, crushing athelas in his hands with water from his pouch. “The orcs are only in these woods because they track us. Legolas, you are the fastest here and know these trees second-best to me. You will take her back to Lothlorien and then take the journey three times faster to catch up with us.”

Legolas nodded his head in understanding, and felt your hand. It was cold, shivering and sweaty. He swallowed his nerves.

“You might want to hold her further,” Aragorn quietly pointed out to Legolas, gesturing to your hand.

The elf noticed the prepared athelas paste, and the ranger’s hand hovering over the intruding dagger’s pommel. Next, Aragorn spoke to you.

“Y/n, my name is Aragorn. I am going to help heal you, and then Legolas here will rush you back to Lothlorien. I am going to remove the dagger to decrease further injury. It will hurt for a moment. Do you understand?”

“Legolas?” you repeated in confusion, looking up at the aforementioned prince. “Oh, yes—him. He’s an angel.”

Aragorn smiled briefly, especially at the creeping blush on his friend’s pointed ears, until you looked back at him and took into account his dirty presentation. “You, on the other hand, are not an angel.”

Comrade, having been pacing the dirt on your free side, came to lay beside you, recognising what was about to happen next.

Aragorn politely curled his lips at your delirious insult, and quickly tore the dagger from your abdomen.

As if supporting a woman through birth, Legolas’ mewls were louder than your own, for the hand of yours he held clenched tightly.

Aragorn got to work quickly, and began applying the athelas to your now bleeding wound. You cried softly, as you felt the pain both grow and lessen.

Finding comfort through your dizzy haze in the thumbpad stroking your knuckles, you squeezed the same hand again, and were pleasantly surprised to find it squeezing back.

Gimli, Boromir and the hobbits watched on—nervously observing both the tyger lying beside you, and your hurt form.

“Lothlorien is a night’s run behind us. She needs a different tunic to reduce the risk of infection,” said Aragorn, using a makeshift cloth to wipe the blood away from you.

Legolas pressed his lips into a thin line, and nodded. He briefly let go of your hand, much to your vocal discomfort, and grabbed the bottom hems of his tunic. He lifted the green material over his head, and was left with nothing but a long-sleeved, white undershirt.

As Aragorn wrapped your chest with what he could find on him that’d temporarily work as a bind, Legolas patiently waited.

After your wound was tended to, Aragorn leant over to speak with you. “Your wound is dressed, Y/n. Legolas will now take care of you until Lothlorien. You are in good, capable hands. I promise.”

You mustered the strength to nod back, despite white dots still filling your vision.

Aragorn clasped Legolas’ shoulder and nodded, to which he nodded back. Then, the ranger turned and told the rest of the Fellowship to head back to camp.

Having ensured everyone was out of sight, Legolas looked down at you again.

“May I please change your tunic? I will close my eyes, but it has to be done—the blood will lead to infection if not dealt with.”

However, you stilled gazed up at him with a silly smile. Considering all he wore was now white, you believed your suspicions of him being an angel correct.

After a moment, his words finally drifted through your mind, like a lone leaf on a lazy river, and you nodded.

Legolas raised a hand to the hem of your tunic, and hooked his fingers underneath, but was halted by the sudden growling and standing of Comrade.

You dare touch her in such a state? I sought you out for help!

I am an elven prince, mellon. Trust me when I say; it is not even remotely possible in my genetic nature to do such a thing.

Well, trust me when I say; it is most definitely in my genetic nature to go for the jugular—always.

Understood, but you must let me help her. Have we not done so already? Let me complete assisting her, and then you shall follow me to Lothlorien.

The snarling lips of the tyger curled for a minute, as he stared across at the determined elf over your body—face to face.

Slowly, his growls died.

Fine. Just know, however, I am watching you every step of the way.

Well, that makes one of us.

As he promised, Legolas closed his eyes. He carefully, but swiftly lifted your blood-soaked tunic and tossed it aside.

Fumbling for a few minutes, as he did so blind, Legolas dressed you in his own green tunic. It was large on you, more like a short dress, but did the job of concealing your wounded form.

At some point, you had nearly drifted off to sleep, but a gentle cooing of Legolas brought you back.

“Hey, you must stay awake for now, all right? I am going to carry you to a lovely kingdom, and you will be taken care of. All I ask in return is that you keep me company with conversation the whole way. Can you please do that for me?”

Exhaling past your nose through your fatigue, you fluttered your hazy eyes open again.

Searching Legolas’ own, you nodded.

“Okay,” you promised.

“Good girl,” Legolas replied. He then gently scooped you into his arms like a bride, and checked in with Comrade.

Are you a fast runner?

Is that even a question?

To further his point, Comrade sprinted off into the trees, leaving Legolas jogging behind him. And, just as you promised, you spoke softly to him the whole way—mostly of his “angelic eyes”—and he delivered on his promise, of quite literally delivering you to Lothlórien.

Surprising Legolas most, however, was the new promise you made after healing by the aid of Galadriel’s hand, just a few days after your arrival.

Upon learning of what exactly was disturbing your ecosystem in Middle-earth, you told Legolas he would not be making the journey back to his friends alone, for he had gained two new ones.

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“Harry’s stylist, right?”

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

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

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

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

part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One week later

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

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

“H?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously, H?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t it be both?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a little for my taste.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Y/N, right!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

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

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

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

“I wasn’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

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

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And on the face?”

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

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

“Lipstick?”

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

“It was only from-”

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

- All from Jeff.

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

part 2

5K notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

The Field Trip ~ KSM [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

PAIRING: Teacher Seungmin x Teacher!Reader

GENRE: fluffy, teacher AU, filedtrip AU, awkward Seungmin, cute seungmin

A/N: I hope you enjoy this! I think cute teacher Seungmin would be adorable!! @nightalight

The class you were trying to calm down were all talking amongst themselves, too excited to listen to anything you were trying to tell them. You couldn't blame them for the exciting field trip that was going to start today. It was something everyone had been looking forward to for the longest time so you couldn't be mad at them for being this enthusiastic about something that was finally happening.

"Hey guys, come on...Just because it's a trip doesn't mean we can speak over Miss Y/l/n," You glanced over at the door to see your colleague Mr Kim Seungmin standing there, he must have been walking past when he noticed you struggling to get the groups attention. Normally they were one of the most behaved groups in the school but today it was as if they could no longer contain their energy for the trip ahead and had to let it out one way or not another. The class turned to look at Seungmin and stopped talking when they noticed what he was wearing, it was strange to them to see their teachers out of their normal school attire. Instead of the usual suit that he would be sporting, he was in some sweats and a hoodie since the bus ride that you were going to be on was almost two hours long. You'd chosen to come along in your sweats and a hoodie as well since you didn't want to spend the ride uncomfortable, most of the kids had dressed up fancy despite being told about the long drive and that the first night there would be a quiet night in to get used to their sleeping arrangements.

The whole of your first-grade students was going on a week-long trip to Gyeongju-si as a small incentive for being such good students that had been excellent in the school year. Those who had disciplinary records or were in trouble throughout the year weren't allowed on the trip and were to stay behind with the other grades. Of course, it wasn't just you and Seungmin that would be leading the school trip, it would be far too much to handle for just the two of you. There were a team of teachers going along with all 56 students including you, Seungmin, English teacher Bang Chan, Science teacher Felix, headteacher Minho, IT teacher Hyunjin, Music teacher Changbin, Art teacher Jisung and form tutor Jeongin along with a couple of other PA's that were able to help out. All of the teachers knew each other very well and got along, it was one of the conditions you had of going on the trip. You wanted to make sure the teachers were able to get along well with one another as well as looking after the students in an appropriate manner, knowing when to draw the line at certain things they would be doing. People that could be trusted with the children aged 15-17 and knew how to care for them and discipline them appropriately if needed.

"Thanks, Mr Kim. Now I know you guys are excited but there are rules to go over for on the bus and for when we arrive at Gyeongju-Si, buddy systems are in place so you're always with a friend," The kids watched you as you spoke to them all, giving them information on when you would take a break on the bus ride and what buddy sytem there was in plcae. They were also watching the way that Seungmin was watching you, smirking to ofe another as they saw the familar creep of a blush coming onto his cheeks and the sparkle he got in his eyes whenever you spoke to a class. They would be blind if they didn't see the crush you and Mr Kim had on one another but neither of you would do anything about it. Too scared to think about it and decided to stay friends with one another, no matter how much chemistry you shared.

"Teachers will be around at all times if you need us, you'll each have a number to contact us on over the course pf the trip..." The more you went on the more you could see the interest of the trip leave their eyes but it wasn't all bad so you decided to give them the good news while you had their attention.

"Those who are old enough do get to go on their own for a while but those who aren't will be assigned, teachers...Please be mindful," You looked at Seungmin to see if he had anything to add but he had been staring at you with a slight blush on his cheeks, he always got like that around you. The two of you had been friends for years but it didn't stop him from having a large crush on you and got nervous whenever you spoke to him or stood too close. Teachers and students all saw the way you acted around one another, the chemistry you shared it was hard to ignore it when it was right in your face all of the time. A couple of the teachers even had bets on when Seungmin would finally ask you out on a date or when you would finally cave and ask him out.

"Anything to add?" You nudged him and he cleared his throat, standing up in front of the class and trying to think of something he could say to them as they mumbled to one another glancing at the two of you as they spoke about how this could be the trip that made you come together as a couple.

"This trip isn't educational, you won't have to take notes...It's a nice break for all of you to enjoy! So remember that but also remember you are representing the school so act respectful to those around you and be on your best behaviour... think Miss Y/l/n covered it all...Have fun!" The kids cheered before going back to their previous conversations with one another, talking amongst themselves about what they were looking forward to most while on the trip. The whole thing had been in planning since the start of their academic year and they'd been looking forward to it since.

"Are you excited?" Seungmin questioned as he walked over to your side, you were double-checking your bags again to make sure you had everything and more that you were going to need.

"Very, there's a walk I really want to go on...You should come too, I think you'd love it." You smiled at him as you thought about everything you'd been researching in the lead up to the trip,

"If you're still into photography you could bring your camera along, it's beautiful," You were so lost in a conversation with one another you had noticed that some of the students were watching you together. A couple of the girls smiling in 'awe" at the way Seungmin was watching you closely, hanging on to every word you were saying to him.

"When I get older, I want someone to look at me like that...Pay attention to my interests like that," One of the popular girls said loudly enough for you to hear, a blush crept onto Seungmin who smiled nervously at you.

"I'd love to, I brought my camera and plenty of batteries...It'll be nice," He smiled at you and as you were about to say something else the door opened and Minho appeared with a smile on his face,

"The busses are here, let's all go! Make sure you have everything packed! We won't be coming back!" He yelled as he ran down the hall to inform the next lot of students while you and Seungmin got your class ready to head out to the busses.

After the long road trip it was a relief to finally arrive at the hotel you would be staying in with all of the kids,

"Make sure you check in with Mr Hwang, he'll be the one giving you your room keys! Boys you're on the fifth floor and girls are with Miss Y/l/n on the tenth!" Chan yelled out as groups of children ran towards the hotel, carrying their bags and yelling out in excitement about who they were going to sharing rooms with.

"You are in luck, me and Felix have the first night of rounds so you have a free night to yourself," Jisung said as he came over to you, you were trying to get your bag off the bus when he pulled it out for you. Raising his eyebrows to see if you'd heard what he said to you,

"Cool...I think Seungmin and I are going to go to the Wolji Pond, I've been wanting to go and I figured he'd want to go for a photography opportunity," Jisung scoffed at you and you frowned at him,

"Of course, "photography" is what Seungmin is going for and why you invited him...Y/n...I'm not stupid," He nudged your arm but you frowned even more wondering what he was talking about,

"Come on. We've been talking about him the whole journey, you can't stop thinking about him...Even on our weekends out you're always thinking about him. Tell me this is just some elaborate plan to finally ask him out or get some alone time with him." You gasped at Jisung as you slapped his arm in a playful manner, looking around to make sure none of the children was in earshot or that Seungmin himself didn't hear since he was less than a couple of people away from you.

"Shut up," You hissed under your breath, dragging Jisung over to the back of the bus before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. The thought of being alone in such a romantic setting with Seungmin hadn't even occurred to you until Jisung planted the seed in your mind, now all you could think about was walking hand in hand with Seungmin around the pond. Talking with one another about everything and anything that would come to your minds it was something you both could do easily with one another. There was a certain comfort that you gave to one another that let the other one know you were free to talk about anything you wanted, that and you had so much in common it was like hanging around with someone you'd known your entire life.

"It's not a date, it's nothing like that...We're just-"

"Going out. Alone. On a romantic walk, together....Okay, sure, whatever you need to tell yourself to get through it." Jisung smirked at you before walking away leaving you to overthink everything while you stared down at the gravel floor. The whole journey you and Jisung had been speaking about what you had planned for the trip, and it seemed as though all of the teachers had baned together to make sure you and Seungmin were always working alongside one another. They were. They were sick of the two of you always too scared to make something happen and they were going to do it for themselves even if it took them the whole of the trip or longer.

"You okay?" You jumped when you heard Seungmin suddenly talking to you and he smiled at you,

"Y-Yeah, just getting lost in my own thoughts." You laughed, looking over at him with a nervous smile before glancing down at your phone trying to come up with some excuse to get away from him. Now that Jisung had put the idea of going on a date with Seungmin that night into your head you couldn't contain yourself. The butterflies in your stomach were getting harder to control and the way your head span whenever you would lock eyes with Seungmin was sending you crazy.

"I'm going to go and lay down," You mumbled trying to leave without making eye contact with him but Seungmin called your name out,

"I'll meet you in the lobby tonight," You nodded at him, glancing at his hand that was wrapped around your wrist, you couldn't help but feel a spark come from the spot his hand was laying. Seungmin smiled as he saw a flicker of a smile on your cheeks and he let go of you, watching after you as Jisung came to his side.

"Big date night, you looking forward to it?" Seungmin turned to look at the older friend of his and frowned,

"Date? I didn't ask her out...We're just going for a walk." Jisung wrapped his arms around Seungmin while shaking his head and tutting loudly,

"Seungmin, Seungmin, Seungmin...You have much to learn about women and dates. Y/n clearly asked you to go with her because she's into you and you're into her...What's the big deal?" Seungmin's heart raced at the thought of you liking him back, he'd had a large crush on you for years but he never would have thought you would ever return the feelings for him.

"She did? Why wouldn't she just ask me out on a date then...She didn't need to hide it," He sighed as he and Jisung walked in the direction of the hotel, ignoring the rest of the teachers around them as Jisung filled him with dating advice.

"She was probably nervous, I mean she won't even admit it's a date but it is...We all know she's crazy about you Seungmin...She's told me a million times," Seungmin blushed deeply as he glanced over at you getting your key-card from the reception desk, he smiled when he saw you feeling his stomach began to grow and he couldn't help but feel hopeful for your date that wasn't really a date later that night,

"I'm going to go get ready," He mumbled before sprinting off away from Jisung and heading up wot his room while Jisung smirked at himself proud of what he was doing. If it was down to him to make you guys finally take that first step then he was going to do everything in his power to make it happen that night.

Seungmin stood anxiously waiting for you in the lobby, it was pitch black outside and the night workers were switching onto their shift.

"Do you need help, Sir?" One of the managers asked and as Seungmin was about to ask the manager to call your room number the door to the elevators opened and heard some students talking loudly while complimenting someone and he glanced over to see you standing between two of the 17-year-old girls in his class.

"Miss, you look amazing. There's no way Mr Kim will be able to keep his eyes off you," Seungmin blushed at the mention of his name and you glanced over at him, your body freezing in place as you felt shy in front of him. A warm feeling spread all over the back of your neck and your face as you tried not to look visibly embarrassed, failing miserably as you knew your body was trembling and you were swallowing a lump in your throat that wasn't even there. Your shoulders curled forward as you walked over to him, waving goodbye to the girls who had been complimenting you on the ride down from your floor.

"You look...Whoa," Seungmin complimented as you joined him by his side, you were dressed in a black and blue floral-ankle skirt dress with long sleeves. It had a v-neck with a chiffon material and it looked pretty on you, it made your eyes pop and your skin look stunning under the dim hotel lighting.

"Whoa?" You giggled softly hoping for some kind of explanation as to what "whoa" meant but it was all Seungmin could manage to say as he continued to stare at you lost in your eyes.

"I-I mean...You look whoa all of the time but tonight it's just...Whoa," He breathed out again, it was as if he'd been lost in a brain fog and he was finding it difficult to produce real words other than "whoa" to describe the way you looked.

"Beautiful, he means beautiful." The night manager winked before sitting down behind his desk and beginning his work. The room fell into an awkward silence so you pointed at his camera,

"Shall we?" You questioned and he nodded, walking towards the exit with you while he tried to think of sentences he could say. It was as if everything had suddenly left his brain and he couldn't remember how to make basic conversation.

"Jisung said that you wanted to ask me something," You and Seungmin were standing in one of the Gazebos around the pond, you'd been walking together for an hour just having a casual conversation about your hopes and plans for the trip. After the awkward encounter in the lobby everything seemed to calm down on the walk, Seungmin snapped photos of everything around you and you spoke about anything that came to your minds.

"He did?" Seungmin's voice cracked as he glanced over at you, your back was to him as you looked over the railing of the pond with your hands on the railing he couldn't help but snap a picture. The low lighting in the gazebo and the stars made it look perfect,

"Did you take a photo?" You giggled gliding over to his side to look over his shoulder at the image he had snapped of you to see yourself on most of the photographs from that night.

"Whoa," You repeated what he had said earlier in the night and he chuckled softly.

"Here...This is my favourite, you were leaning down to look at the ducks," He flicked through some images and found one of you sitting on a patch of grass beside a small area of the pond. You were so lost in the night you'd barely heard the camera shutter going off but in the image, you were looking at the ducks and ducklings all sleeping happily,

"Cute, look they look so peaceful," You smiled happily glancing up at Seungmin who was already staring down at you. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, debating with himself if he should finally take his chance and kiss you in the romantic night you were having.

Bending down he leant closer to you until your lips were almost touching, your eyes fluttered shut and your heart raced from being this close to him. It was finally going to happen after all this time. That was until there was the sound of giggling students coming from before you, you broke away licking your lips as you stared at the floor.

"Shouldn't you be in your rooms, there's a curfew," Seungmin grumbled as he stared over at some of the students that had interrupted your moment together.

"Shouldn't you take Miss Y/l/n on a real date before you kiss her!" They yelled before running away from you and Seungmin as he blushed deeply and you felt your body curl up in embarrassment.

"I'll...I-I'll walk you back," Seungmin mumbled as you both headed back in the direction of the hotel.

It was the final day of the trip and the almost-kiss between you and Seungmin was never spoken about again, it was never brought up and the two of you stuck to conversation topics surrounding school life instead of your private ones.

"So close, yet so far," Jisung grumbled as he threw some food to the ducks as he watched you and Seungmin taking some of the younger students around Gyeongju Craft village, wanting to make sure everyone had a chance to buy something on their last day.

"I heard if it wasn't for the two girls in Y/n's class they would have kissed," Chan mumbled as he sat down beside Jisung, handing him some of the food he had in his bag.

"They were on a date, it was going so well and then they ruined it by laughing at them as they almost kissed." Jisung pouted as if it was him being mad at drama actors in a show he was watching instead of real human's.

"You can't blame them Jisung...If Seungmin and Y/n are meant to be then it will happen eventually...We can't force it," Jisung rolled his eyes not wanting to listen to Chan acting, wise about everything so he laid down against the grass and stared up at the clouds.

"Hey look, this looks like Mr Kim and Miss Y/l/n," Your ears picked up your name and you glanced over at a group of students gathered around a wood crafting shop, you slowly made your way over to see a wooden couple crafted together. It looked so close to you and Seungmin and you felt your stomach flip, the lady figure was wearing a dress similar to yours from that night and the male had a camera in his hands as they walked together hand in hand.

"Miss, you should buy it! It's so cute!" One of your students said as they glanced up at you, pointing at the figure as she asked how much it was but you heard Seungmin coming over and panicked. Your body going into fight or flight mode you left, going over to Jisung who was asleep on the grass. Black glasses were drawn on his face in permanent marker which made you giggle as you saw it.

"Jisung, this is your fault...You said it was a date, we almost kissed and now it's all weird between us...I hate you." You grumbled to his sleeping body knowing that once he was out of it he was out of it for a while, it was like trying to get blood from a rock whilst trying to wake him up.

"Y/n?" You looked up over your shoulder to see Seungmin holding a bag in his hand with a shy smile on his face,

"Can I talk to you? Over there..." He nodded over at the cherry blossom trees and you got up from the grass and brushed yourself off,

"Sure." You whispered following him over before standing up the tree together. The two of you stared at one another not noticing that everyone had turned to look at you, watching you from afar to see what would happen between you.

"I got something and I wanted to talk to you about the other night...It's been on my mind all week but I never knew how to bring it up," He scratched the back of his neck nervously before handing you the small gift bag with a shy smile.

"Open it first," He instructed as he watched you anxiously, you pulled the bag open to see the wooden figures inside, your names were written on the bottom of them and Seungmin blushed.

"The lady that crafted it saw us that night...I asked how she knew our names but she wouldn't tell me...I think the kids told her." He chuckled softly and you smiled running your hands over the small figures before looking back up at Seungmin,

"I'm sorry I was so awkward and never brought it up again...I was...I didn't want to make things weird between us and in all honesty, I've been so nervous to ask you out that when Jisung said it was a date I jumped on the chance." You frowned hearing that Jisung told him he was a date and you shook your head,

"J-Jisung convinced me it was a date, I was too nervous to ask you out," You laughed softly as you stared at one another, realising that neither of you had asked the other out and that it had been a set up by Jisung.

"I'm sorry...I-I really shouldn't have tried to kiss you then, I mean if you're not interested in me like that-"

"Who said I wasn't interested in you like that?" You whispered, taking his hand in yours so that he couldn't walk away from you like he was attempting to do. A blush crept on his face spreading over his ears until he looked as red as the roses that were growing nearby.

"Well...I-I mean...I just meant-" You cut him off by kissing him suddenly. You no longer wanted to be worried or nervous about kissing him. It had been eating you up inside and you just wanted to get it over with before you chickened out of it all over again. In that moment the kiss was filled with sweetness and passion, Seungmin wrapped his arms around your body pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss between you and smiled against your lips. It felt as though you were at home with the smallest of kisses, the chemistry between you became a huge ever-glowing flame that nobody would be able to put out. That was until-

"Who had bets on the trip being the reason they finally kissed?!" Jisung's voice rang out above everything around you, ripping into the moment the two of you were sharing together. You bit down on your lip as you and Seungmin rested your heads on one another, laughing at one another softly as you glanced in Jisung's direction who was collecting money from the teachers and students.

"Should we tell them all he cheated?" Seungmin questioned as he linked his hands with yours, you shook your head.

"Nah, we can just bully him into buying us food with the money or we'll tell everyone," You promised him, leaning up to kiss him once more before leaving him to go and join the others who were all smirking and cracking jokes at the pair of you already.

Tagline: @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @minholuvs @acciocriativity @that-anxious-bisexual @mwitsmejk

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elriell · 3 years

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Two Mates? Elriel & (El)ucien Theory.

These are just a few of my thoughts compiled together regarding having two mates, the signs and breadcrumbs Sarah has incorporated. If you know me you know am a Lucien fan so this is nothing hateful towards him and we will be looking at his place within it all as well, that being said this will have bond rejection/misalignment talk so if that is not your cup of tea I understand and you can skip this! As always I would love to hear everyones thoughts so long as we are all respectful ♡

Let's start by discussing the where the two ships align and parallel mates behaviour, and then we will discuss where their arc's veer from each other...

“TOUCH HER, SMELL HER, TASTE HER– THE INSTINCTS WERE A RUNNING RIVER.” (Lucien in ACOWAR about the mating bond.)

“Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture.”

“Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.”

“They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. ”

“He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't understand the shift in his scent. ”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. ”

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like.”

“This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. ”

Now you can easily parallel this to any of SJM's mates, like Feysand or Nessian. But for the sake of brevity I will leave you with the original link to the wonderful @suelky post where it was pointed out w/ Feysand quotes as well. [source]

Also "The instincts were a running river.” sounds a little like “Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea."

The Bonus POV has a lot of typical "Mates" behaviours manifesting between Elain and Azriel, and it would make sense this would be a extreme POV shift as we have never been inside either of their heads before so we were bound to have a major learning curve, especially with Az who is so reserved with his emotions.

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him—”

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.”

There are countless main trio parallels but most of you are aware of which one is my favourite...

“Knelt on those stars and mountains inked on his knees. He would bow for no one and nothing— But his mate. His equal.”

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”

"Every instinct in his body came roaring to the surface, so violent he had to choke them with a brutal grip or else he'd find himself on his knees, begging her for touch, for anything."

And on to where they go their separate ways from a textual perspective;

"Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.”

“Rhys kissed the hollow of my collarbone, and my core went utterly molten. “My brave, bold, brilliant mate.”

“You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind.”

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.” He kissed my brow one more time, my blood thrumming and boiling in me, howling to draw blood.”

I think finding freedom and power from within is something that the books have emphasized through Feysand and Nessian's journey's. Which is so interesting considering Lucien and Elain are both feeling tied to each other, as if in a cage of sorts.

Elain herself has been stuffed in to a box of other peoples making throughout most of the series, it quite prevalent she might feel caged by their opinions of who she is.

"Maybe she was never given a chance to be that way." I whipped my head towards him. "You think I stifle her?" Rhys held up his hands. "Not you alone."

“Nesta had been right. It was like a prison, this place.” [Graysen's Manor]

“Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers. Our mother made sure we knew it. Or she just cared so little what we thought or did that she didn’t bother to hide it from us.”

And as for Lucien I think his duty and honour to her is what is caging him;

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.”

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.”

I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

Godbless Azriel for respecting Elain's privacy.

I think we would see/understand a lot more if we got a chance inside their heads but the one time we did see Lucien's POV we got a good glimpse at how he feels about his situation with Elain and it wasn't particularly positive and reminded me of Rhy's parents.

"She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.”

“...to remember that she picked it. Picked me. That it’s not like my parents, shoved together.”

Not using the word cage per say but the implication isn't much better.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

“So is Azriel.”

I don't think the debate is really whether Lucien is deserving of her, or even Azriel for that matter, it is a question of who is actually right for her and vice-versa, who has she been consistently written to thrive and smile alongside. And that is Azriel.

Why does Sarah constantly put Azriel in the picture, from day DOT. She was screaming "hey look Azriel is here, and they would work magically together"

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.”

There are several instances/evens that occur throughout the series that set both Elucien and Elriel's relationships apart, and I think it is highly intentional on Sarah's part...

“I said quietly, “We will get her back.” But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.”

“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Or we can look at both Solstice's and the clear differences in how their relationships are growing, and also how well one and other know each other.

“Tell me when you knew,” he demanded, his knee pressing into mine. “That Rhysand was your mate. Tell me when you stopped loving Tamlin and started loving him instead.”

“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.” “To know what?” He hitched my damp cloak higher around us. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

GIFTS REFLECTING THEIR RELATIONSHIP MILE MARKS

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” “And torn up by thorns,” I mused,”

“I didn’t dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all.”

“He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

Not only is she visibly uninterested which is painful to watch, it also highlights how little he knows about her. SJM is creating a visible gap in their dynamic.

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. ”

“My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.”

“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ”

“She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

“I led her into the sitting room, where Cassian had a bottle of amber-colored liquor in each hand, Azriel was already rubbing his temples,”

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year -- a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there.”

“Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days, and then opened the lid. Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you...”

See yet again a very thoughtful and funny gift on her part. Now at it's core even just simply comparing their general reactions says a lot about the story Sarah is putting forward.

"Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly."

"Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing."

“She hadn't bought her mate a present. "

The writing is nothing if not clear about the discomfort both Lucien and Elain feel in regards to each other, though they lay under different reasons.

We are given multiple incidents in which we are told about how mating bonds are not perfect and we are given clear examples of it repeatedly, about woman enduring out of obligation, and do not forget this is heavily discussed literally in regards to Elain and her circumstances.

“She’d been revealed as his mate, and endured the miserable union mostly from gratitude for her unharmed wings.”

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.” I peeled off my dressing robe. “So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. "

“She glowed with good health. Except … Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. The male was definitely in the family room,”

“Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around,”

“Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.”

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

“Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.”

What if ”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

“Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“ I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.”

The romantic subtext is there and has been for quite some time, they prove it book after book when SJM continues to grow their bond and nurture it whilst breaking her connection with Lucien further apart, and for what reason?

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. “There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some… preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” [...]

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.”

It is remarkably interesting to me that we are told about what Rhys suspects/believes is responsible for mating bonds, paralleled alongside Azriel questioning it all, I also think it is abundantly clear from his answer to Feyre he doesn't truly know for sure.

We also have several lines of dialogue talking about the sisters and fate, their reason for entering the IC's life. Not only that but we get a glimpse at Azriel's personality and how despite the world (Rhys and the mating bond in general) telling him to despair, he still found it in him to have hope the Cauldron could be wrong.

This is so significant, and she has carefully woven his character throughout the series to make this incredibly plausible.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.”

“And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”

“All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.”

“Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but …”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.”

As you can see even back in ACOWAR she was weaving the web for Elriel's journey and an upcoming Blood Duel/The threat of one.

“Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

I think it is pretty clear from all the quotes above that Lucien is no her ideal spirit and vice-versa to be frank when you put it side by side his budding relationship with Vassa or hers with Azriel they are clearly very different.

“On the continent, there are territories that believe the females literally belong to their mate. But not here. Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond.”

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. ”

Elain is choosing Azriel, choosing their bond over the one assigned to her time and time again... Back to mating bonds;

“The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

“The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

"She pointed at Lucien as she saw herself out. “Try sitting down with her. Just talking—sensing. See what you pick up. But don’t push.”

“Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

"Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”

“Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

“But Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.” Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.”

Are you telling me that Madja saying a mate would know, would sense whatever is going on with her, and as it turns out Azriel was the one to sense and uncover it is solely what, a coincidence? Also to emphasize what she said about "A bridge between souls..." Where else have we heard that terminology? The Truth-Teller scene.

“I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”

Not to mention this scene is simply iconic for a multitude of reasons, how poetic Feyre describes them, the clear soulmates/ying-yang subtext and him giving her something he has given no other but that's another story.

Azriel has also been displaying some very protective fiercely so mating vibes towards her,

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. ”

“Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him.”

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.”

“Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. “Where did Lucien go.”

I think there are some mixed opinions on Lucien and whether he deserves her (and vice-versa in this fandom) but I don't think that is what this comes down too, they are both handling it in the way they think best/following their instincts.

Lucien is hurting throughout this process as well, but I think ultimately it is honor and loyalty binding him to her not any genuine emotion for her as a human being fae. I think realising they are not meant for each other and supporting each other developing true bonds with other people will be their journey. And it would be a completely fresh and new view of a mating bond.

Smaller pieces of dialogue that need little explaining and a rather oddly specific choice of words in the latest book that is meant to set up the next one in the series:

“You’d know if she’d died,” Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother’s chest with a scarred hand. “Right here—you’d know, Cass.”

“Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.”

"I'd never do such a thing. you must be thinking of your other mate."

Honestly? At this rate I have no doubt Elriel are endgame and everything within canon text spells that out but I truly believe he will be her second mate/the will form a bond via some circumstance that shall arise due to these little hints.

I would love to hear your thoughts and/or additions because I by all means didn't do a massive deep dive and there are most likely tons more examples to add but I didn't want it to become overwhelming to read!

Hope everyone has a spectacular and magical evening <3

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #elriel mates #elriel theories #elriel metas #anti elucien #tb safe and all that #dont want it falling in the wrong tag #c

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ibis-gt · 3 years

Note

I honestly would love to read about the first time Cam finds out Luther is shrinking because he has feelings for him. In that hanahaki disease au.

ask and ye shall receive.... cam figures it out. just shy of 2000 words.

~~~

“Aaaand… there,” Cam said, and gave the screwdriver one final twist. He pulled on the little contraption in front of him a few times to test its stability and sat back on his haunches, finally satisfied. “You’re all set.”

It is one of four little rope and pulley elevator systems that he’d set up around Luther’s apartment. It consisted of a small wooden plank that Luther could stand on and use the rope system to raise or lower himself. Each one was operable at height ranges between about a foot and a half to four inches. They let him get up onto his sofa, his bed, the kitchen counter, and the bathroom sink.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Luther protested from his position just behind Cam. “I mean, I don’t get that small that often, I probably won’t use them that much.”

Cam laughed and pushed a stray wisp of hair out of his face, looking up at Luther. “What are you talking about? You’re always shrinking around me. It’s okay, I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.” He watched the usual blush spread across Luther’s face, the telltale shiver run down his spine, and smiled as Luther shrank another inch. He’d lost some height here and there during the installation process as they chatted, and had gone down to about five foot even, if Cam had to guess. “Anyway, you let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I’ll be over to fix ‘em as soon as I can. And there’s the bells if you’re in any real trouble - those strings there, see? They’re hooked up to a bell in my apartment, ring that and I’ll come right over.”

“My cat’ll have a field day with them,” Luther murmured, brow furrowing. “Maybe we should do something other than string.”

Cam chewed on the end of his screwdriver in contemplation. “Hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out later.” He slipped the screwdriver in his toolbelt and slapped his hands on thighs as he stood up. “Well! I’d better get back to my place and start dinner. You’re coming over, right?”

“Oh! As long as it’s not an imposition? I mean, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Nah, s’alright, you’re always welcome. Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. See you in an hour?”

Luther’s blush deepened and he lost another two inches. “S-see you then,” he managed.

Cam chuckled fondly to himself as he left. He tried not to think of Luther’s condition as cute or funny, because when the shrinking was really bad it put the poor guy in danger. But he couldn’t help but find it amusing when Luther lost just a little height, ending up just a slightly shorter version of himself. And when he went on one of his long rambles and shrank a little bit at a time all throughout, it put Cam in mind of a deflating balloon, which was just too silly not to laugh at. And when he ended up really tiny, and he was just like a little doll, and fit so perfectly in the palm of Cam’s hand…

Cam shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, that was too far. He shouldn’t think like that, no doubt it was terrifying for Luther to be so small and vulnerable. He sighed as he shouldered his door open, hands full of leftover wood and string. He set them on the little table where he kept his keys by the door, then unbuckled his toolbelt and hung it on the coat rack, lost in thought.

He’d been puzzling over what caused Luther to shrink for a while now. Was it just at random? Was it like an allergic reaction, and some kind of food or environmental thing kicked it off? He had a brief vision of Luther sneezing and instantly shrinking down to bug size. No, knock it off, he chastised himself, not funny. A little funny. But don’t laugh at it.

Anyway, he hadn’t seen Luther ever sneeze when he shrank, so that probably wasn’t it. What were the symptoms? He’d make a list, that would help him narrow it down.

Cam slipped an apron over his head - one of the novelty ones his sister kept getting him, he didn’t bother to read the witty joke about buns printed on the front - and started on the dough for his spaghetti. Whenever possible, he liked to make things from scratch. Besides, having something to do with his hands let his mind work better. He worked the problem around in his mind just like he worked the dough in front of him, kneading it, pushing it around, looking at it from different angles.

So. What were the warning signs? Luther tended to get awkward and shy just before he shrank. He’d blush, stammer or trip over his words, either avoid eye contact or stare like he couldn’t look away, and of course the final sign was that signature shiver right before a loss of height. A lot of those symptoms could be attributed to anxiety as well - was that what triggered the shrinking, just whenever he was anxious? But that couldn’t be it, Luther had been anxious plenty of times without shrinking. Not to mention he worked a high-stress job, waiting tables at a local diner, and wouldn’t be able to make it through the day if anxiety made him shrink. So that wasn’t it.

Cam rolled the dough out flat and cut it into strips. He hung the fresh noodles up to dry and put water on to boil, then opened the fridge and pulled out the meatballs he’d shaped that morning.

His brain kept chugging along on the issue as he worked, hands going on automatic. He came back to the present long enough to taste the sauce he’d made, hem and haw, and add a little more garlic, then went right back to it. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

A sound startled him out of his thoughts - the ringing of a bell.

“Shoot,” Cam hissed, dropping the sauce spoon. It clattered onto the stove and left little pools of sauce cooling on the glass surface. He’d deal with that later though, Luther needed him now. He switched the burners to low and headed for the door.

Luther’s door was locked, so he had to duck back inside his apartment to grab the spare key. He opened the door slowly and called out.

“Luther? Was that just the cat, or do you need me?” Cam scanned the room, looking for that distinctive neon green jumpsuit. It clashed horribly with everything, but it was useful for spotting him when he ended up tiny. Sure enough, there he was by the strings for the bell, waving an arm to get Cam’s attention. He was easy to spot, as far as things went, standing about a foot tall. Cam hurried over.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Cam took a knee in front of Luther and leaned in close, inspecting him for injuries. Luther took a step back, startled by the sudden rush of worry, and Cam made himself pull back as well. It had to be scary to have someone looming over you like that, he told himself, give him a little space.

“I-I’m fine,” Luther said. “I just… well, this happened, and now I can’t really open my door, so I was hoping you could give me a lift over for dinner? Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve used the bell. I could’ve texted you.”

The tension flooded out of Cam and he laughed in relief. “No, that’s fine, I just jumped to conclusions. I can give you a lift, sure.” He cupped his hands and held them out to Luther, who climbed on and settled in, sitting down with his legs crossed. Cam rose slowly, being careful not to jostle Luther, and began to amble back towards the door. A thought occurred to him.

“What did it?” Cam asked.

Luther looked up, startled. “What did what?”

‘“What made you shrink this time? I’ve been trying to work it out on my own and I’m just not getting it. There’s gotta be a common thread, right, you’re not just shrinking at random?”

Luther stared at him in open-mouthed shock, face growing steadily redder.

“I mean,” Cam continued, “if you were just shrinking at random, it’d be hard to hold down a job, y’know? Do you ever shrink at work? And anyway, didn’t you say - ” His eyes widened as that thing that had been nagging at him finally became clear. “You said you don’t shrink all the time! But you shrink pretty often whenever I’m around. Am I doing it, somehow?”

“No, no, no,” Luther said hurriedly, but Cam could feel him getting smaller.

“Oh, liar!” Cam chortled. “Nice try, Pinnochio, but I’m literally holding you right now. Is it actually me?”

“It’s - it’s not - not always?” Luther was practically cowering away from him now, and Cam realized he’d been a little harsh.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay? It’s your business, I shouldn’t’ve pried.”

“No, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s just… hard to say out loud, um…” Luther fidgeted with the collar of his jumpsuit, avoiding Cam’s eyes. He was red as a tomato, mouth drawn up in an adorable little pout, and so small and cute that Cam’s heart ached. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Is it me, like… because you like me?” Cam asked. “Like, you have a crush on me, is that it?”

Luther let out a sound like a tea kettle whistling, shrinking down at an alarming rate to only five inches tall. Cam couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard he snorted. When he finally got a hold on himself again, the wounded look on Luther’s face sobered him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you don’t know how long I’ve been trying to work this out, and the answer’s been right in front of my face the whole time! I swear I’m laughing at myself, not at you. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?”

Luther gaped up at him for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he shut his mouth and nodded furiously. Cam grinned.

“Or this could be like our first date, right? I’ll get some candles and dim the lights. We could even 'Lady and the Tramp' it with the spaghetti! Or - okay, okay, sorry, I’ll stop.” Luther had started to shrink again, and Cam didn’t want his cooking to go to waste just because his guest was too small to eat it. “Hey, I joke a lot, but I want you to know I’m being serious here,” he said gently. “I’d like to go out with you, if you’re alright with it. Is it going to cause problems, though? Like are you going to shrink every time we’re together?”

Luther shifted and looked away, finally finding his voice. “I - I don’t know. The doctor said if I told you about how I felt, it would get easier. But he didn’t say it would go away entirely… if that’s not something you want to put up with, we don’t have to - ”

“No, no, that’s fine, I don’t mind it. Just if it was a problem for you, is all. I like you a lot, Luther. I’d love to be your partner, if you’ll have me.”

Luther looked back up at Cam with a huge, genuine, relieved smile on his teeny tiny face. Cam’s heart melted.

“I’d like that.”

#asks #writing #gulliver's hanahaki #not me best but i am at peace w/ it

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

masquerade (d.m.)

prompt as requested by anon: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect...

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood slytherin reader

warnings: language

word count: 8.7k

author’s note: let’s say this takes place around 7th year (no voldy) right after the reader’s 18th birthday. also--i took the liberty of naming the reader’s parents just for sake of making things less confusing.

you guys...would you want a second part to this? i may have an idea for a sequel? depends on how you all like it, but this...kinda went hard ngl

here is a playlist that i found on spotify that works well with the fic! credits to owner!

Rivalry; nothing like it. It gave you a reason to work harder, faster, and stronger than your rival. You were taught at a very young age that you should never surrender to someone who tries to make you feel inferior. And you took that to heart throughout your time at Hogwarts. You fought wisely with your charisma and charm, earning you the highest marks at school. You were a prefect, one of the top five students in your graduating class, and you were already making plans for your future.

But that didn’t mean that there weren’t any challenges in your way. Many obstacles stood in your path of achieving greatness. One of those obstacles named Draco Malfoy. The two of you came from pureblood Slytherin families who had been fighting for power that dated back hundreds of years. That only meant that when you both entered Hogwarts in the same year, you had a rival to beat. But Draco wasn’t stupid. He knew how to keep up with you, sometimes surpassing you. Draco was also a prefect alongside you, one place higher than you in your class ranking, and not to mention, Professor Snape’s favorite student.

It drove you ballistic that no matter what you did, you couldn’t outsmart Malfoy. He was always one step ahead of you. He anticipated your every move as if he had studied you for years. But you had something on your side that Draco didn’t expect; divine feminine energy.

You would never fall for Malfoy, not in a million years. But that was exactly the point. Use what you have that Draco wants to your advantage. Your mother always told you that women had the energy of a thousand suns in their eyes and could burn anyone they wanted with just a stare. So that’s exactly what you did throughout Hogwarts. Burn Malfoy.

With just a look in the halls, you would set the boy on fire. With rage, with envy, with frustration, and with passion. You wanted no more but to see the boy fail. But failure wasn’t in Draco’s vocabulary. Needless to say, your time at Hogwarts became full of push and pull between the both of you. A rivalry of the ages.

It was exhausting, being tasked with rivalry at school, but you were thankful when winter break rolled around. You sat in your family’s manor house, the roaring fireplace in front of you as you read an alluring book. The crackling fire warmed up your chilly toes as a green velvet blanket rested over your shoulders. During break, you didn’t have to worry about Malfoy or his every move. You could enjoy yourself.

As you read, you can hear the footsteps of someone descending the stairs. “(Y/N), dear,” your mother’s voice calls out.

“In the drawing room, Mother!” you call back.

Soon enough, there your mother was, looking regal as ever as you smiled. Your mother was truly a force to be reckoned with. She stood in front of you, in a beautiful black gown, trimmed with gold and silver, your family crest embroidered above her left breast. Her hair was styled away from her face to reveal her youthful looking face. She was stunning to say the least. “I have news, darling,” she smiles, approaching you before taking a spot on the loveseat that you rested on.

You close your book and smile as you mother sits behind you, combing through your hair, something you always found relaxing. “I hope it’s good news, I could use some,” you tease her, earning a small giggle.

As she combs through your hair with her fingers, she speaks, “As you know, the annual masquerade ball occurs around this time of year.” You remembered watching your parents get ready for the ball as a child. You would sit next to your mother’s vanity and watch her delicately make up her face as her ladies’ maid did her hair. Your mother always wore a beautiful gown from the finest silk, adorned with jewels or lace or whatever she fancied. You remember your father told your mother she could get whatever she liked; your father wanted nothing but your mother to be satisfied. “The ball is open to any pureblood Slytherin who has reached the age of eighteen. And since you’ve have your eighteenth birthday not too long ago, you are eligible to attend,” you can hear the excitement in your mother’s voice. It had always been her dream to see you attend the ball. And yours to attend it.

You smile widely, “I’m delighted. We’ll need to contact the seamstress now if I want a dress in time.”

Chuckling, your mother places her hands on your shoulder. “Yes, yes, dear. But before we talk about what you are wearing, we must discuss the details,” she informs as you sigh. You just wanted to get to the fun part. “The masquerade ball is not just a party, but a tradition. The ball was made for young pureblood Slytherins to meet each other blindly and find a prospective partner for marriage,” you mother reveals as your heart stops.

A partner for marriage? You had just turned eighteen and now you had to think about a partner? You hadn’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet.

But before you can protest the thought of courtship, your mother adds, “It’s how your father and I met in fact. We had danced the whole night and at the end of the ball, he took off my mask and we realized that we knew each other already. He was my partner in my potion’s class at Hogwarts.” She smiles at the memory. “Now, I’m not saying you need to find a fiancé, but it would be nice to be open to it. It’s tradition.”

The thought of finding a fiancé at the ball made your mind reel and your heart race. Sure, the tradition was old, but there was something romantic about it. Especially since that’s how your parents found each other. You nod your head, “Of course, Mother.”

Your mother presses a kiss to the top of your head. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead you hear another voice. “There are some fine suitors attending the ball this year,” your father speaks. He walked into the room a teasing smile on his face as you roll your eyes. “Let’s not overwhelm our daughter with the prospect that she might find her future partner, shall we, Porpentina?” your father tells your mother.

She simply sighs, “Let’s not rule it out though, Samuel. Anything can happen.”

Your father walks over to the two of you, a handsome smile on his face as he shakes his head. Your father was the smartest man you’ve ever met. He always led with logic and had a rational brain. But when it came to you, your father was putty. He loved spoiling his only child, his daughter. “Anyway, I’m glad that you’ve decided to come to ball, my dear,” your father beams as your mother squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll let Lucius and Narcissa know,” he looks to your mother with a nod.

“Wait, Lucius and Narcissa?” you freeze. Malfoy’s. “Are they coming to the ball as well? Will Draco be in attendance?” you interrogate.

Your father chuckles, “Well, I would hope so since they host the ball every year, dearest.” You scoff and let your mouth fall open. Since when was your family alright with the Malfoy's? Last time you were aware, your families despised one another. “I know, it’s strange, but over the last few years, our families have been able to be more level headed with each other. Lucius is still a fucking prick, but he’s been more tame,” your father huffs, making you laugh a bit. “But yes, Draco will be at the ball.”

You immediately rise from your seat on the hardwood floor. “Then I’m not going,” you state as your mother stares at you confused. “You know how much I hate that pretentious, loathsome boy since I stepped foot in Hogwarts. He’s rude and spiteful and inconsiderate and vile. I refuse to voluntarily be in the same room as him whilst I am supposed to be enjoying winter break. I simply refuse.”

Springing to her feet, your mother tries to reason with you. “Think about it, darling. It’s a masquerade ball. You won’t even recognize Draco. He’ll be in costume as well as everyone else. You won’t even know who is who. It’ll be a night to remember, I promise you,” your mother speaks, rubbing your arms. “Besides, I already called the seamstress and she has a beautiful design that she has custom made for you,” she wiggles her brows.

The thought of attending the ball still did excite you. Live orchestral music, beautiful gowns, champagne in golden flutes. It all sounded so regal. How could you let Draco Malfoy stand in the way of your fun? Besides, the chances of you stumbling upon Draco were slim. Sighing, you surrender, “Alright, fine. But if I so much as smell Draco Malfoy, you won’t hear the end of it.”

---------

Meanwhile, Draco stood beside his mother as servants and maids and butlers ran through the Malfoy Manor, carrying fine china, silverware, champagne flutes, and the finest decorations from around the world to decorate the manor in time for the ball. To the common person, this would all be so fantastic to watch. People decorating the manor in golds and greens, preparing for the quickly approaching festivities. But to Draco, this was normal. All the glamor and the splendor was just another day.

Narcissa holds her son’s arm, linked with hers as she sighs, “Your first masquerade ball. You’ve grown up so quickly, my darling.” Narcissa smiles at her son inspecting his grown face. Where did her child go? All she saw was a fine man.

Draco smiles kindly at his gentle mother. “I’m not being shipped away, Mother. It’s just a ball,” he laughs, giving her hand a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t expect to find a potential wife at the ball like Father believes...” he trails off.

The thought of marriage made Draco’s stomach churn. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Lucius Malfoy expected Draco to find a wife and a wife soon. Even though the boy hadn’t graduated, Lucius wanted to know that the Malfoy name would continue on for generations to come. He needed to ensure that his boyish son found another pureblood and produced an heir to the Malfoy name.

Narcissa looks sadly at her son. She wanted nothing but the best for him, but also wanted the same as her husband. “Draco, dear, you know how important this ball is to your father and I. There are some perfectly sweet, beautiful girls in attendance to the ball tomorrow. What about Pansy Parkinson? Pureblood, Slytherin, comes from wealth,” Narcissa starts.

“What about her obnoxious personality or obsessive nature? Parkinson is a hard no,” Draco dismisses the notion. “Who else?”

Narcissa thinks, “The Greengrasses! Daphne will be in attendance since she just turned eighteen. Her younger sister still has a few more years before she can attend.”

Draco shakes his head, “Daphne is a good friend. It would be awkward.” Narcissa sighs and laughs lightly. “Anyone else or am I stuck with Pansy?”

Mrs. Malfoy stays quiet for a while before bringing up the next name, knowing how touchy it is for her son. “Well, I received news yesterday of another pureblood Slytherin who just turned eighteen recently who will be in attendance...” she trails off as Draco looks at his mother, intrigued and curious. “Miss (Y/L/N) will be coming...”

Draco’s face then contorts with disgust. “You invited my biggest rival to the ball?” he exclaims. “Mother, you know how I feel about her! Merlin, at this point let’s invite Potter and his friends to really spice things up shall we?” he scoffs sarcastically.

Narcissa starts, “Draco, please. I know how you feel about (Y/N), but she is a pureblood Slytherin. Her family has money and power and a title. Maybe if something happened between you tw-”

“Nothing will happen between (Y/N) and I, Mother. So don’t get your hopes up,” Draco cuts his mother off who sadly sighs. Draco monitors her sad expression before he feels guilty for his outburst. “I just cannot see myself getting past my feelings for her as they are now,” he reasons with his mother, squeezing her hand as she sadly smiles. “But I did hear that you invited some Beauxbatons to the ball,” he wiggles his eyebrows as Narcissa rolls her eyes.

-----------

Standing in your room in front of the mirror, your ladies’ maid tightened your corset as you sucked in a breath. “Too tight?” she asks, scared that she hurt her master’s child.

“No, Lottie, just fine,” you smile at her as she ties the strings to the corset before taking your gown off of its hanger. “Lottie, can I ask you a question?” you ask as she helps you step into the gown.

Lottie smiles, “Of course, my lady. What would you like to know?”

As Lottie shimmies the dress up your body, you speak, “When you met your husband, when did you know he was the right one for you? Was there a moment? Or something he said? Or was it love at first sight?”

You hold the dress up as Lottie makes her way to the back to zip it up. “It’s more of a feeling you get in your stomach, my lady. I knew my husband was the one because I felt like my stomach was doing flips and my head was reeling. There’s no feeling quite like it,” she tells you as you smile. Love was so complicated to you. You didn’t understand how it was supposed to work. You loved knowing that there were answers to almost every problem, but when it came to love, you were clueless of its answer. “Take a look, my lady.”

Looking into the mirror, you softly smile. The strapless gown was of emerald silk, hugging your chest beautiful as it came in at the waist as it cascaded down your long legs. It wasn’t puffy or poofy or full of tule. It was sleek and sexy and mature. Your hair was straightened, but pieces fell loosely in your face, framing it. Gold eyeshadow was swept across your eyelids and your lips wore a peachy pink gloss. It was perfect. “I love it,” you smile.

“You look simply stunning,” Lottie added. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife, my lady.”

You smile at Lottie, “Thank you, Lottie. Could you call my mother in please?” She curtsies before leaving you in your room. Nervously, you pace the floor, anxious for tonight’s events. Were you really expected to find a suitor? Who was coming to the ball? Maybe someone from a different country? A bright, handsome wizard might sweep you off your feet and take you away. The thought made your heart race.

Interrupting your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door before your mother enters. “Darling,” she sighs as you laugh. “There are no words to describe the way you look.”

You beam, “Thank you, Mother. I feel good, but I’m nervous.” She walks closer to you, concern on her face. “What if there is no one there for me? Even worse, what if there is someone there for me and I miss them?”

She shakes her head, “You cannot think of those things. (Y/N), I raised to be confident, powerful, and smart. And that’s exactly what you are plus more. Anyone with a brain and eyes will see how brilliant you are. No need to fret.” You exhale as she smiles at you. “I came in here to give you one last thing before we go,” she says as she reveals a gorgeous gold mask, adorned with pearls, diamonds, and emeralds. “It was mine when I went to my first masquerade ball. The same mask I wore when I met your father when I was eighteen. I thought that it might bring you some luck,” she tells you.

Tears start to well up in your eyes before you hug your mother tightly. “Thank you,” you whisper as she holds onto you tightly. “Thank you so much, Mom.”

Your mother gives you a squeeze. “I’m your mother. It’s what I do,” she says. “Now let’s put this on you and get ready to go. The ball waits for no one.”

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

The ball was already bustling and it had just begun a mere twenty minutes ago. Women and ladies wore beautiful gowns varying of colors and textures, adorned with jewels and precious stones. Men wore suits and capes, perfectly tailored, all very clean cut. But everyone wore a mask to conceal their identity. Each mask beautiful and intricate in design. Some masks covered their whole faces and parts of their head, other just the eyes, and some wore masks that covered their whole head. Everyone was anonymous and that just made your excited anxiety increase.

As you stepped into the Malfoy Manor, you took in your surroundings. Their home was lovely. Beautifully decorated in golds and silvers, accents of black and green. Huge diamond chandeliers came down from the ceilings and twinkled as light passed through it. A large orchestra was settled in the ballroom, playing the finest music your ears have ever heard. You swooned. This all felt like a dream. A very real dream.

At the foyer, you were greeted by a butler who took your coat and another who offered you a flute of golden champagne as you graciously accepted it with a smile and a soft thank you. Your heart fluttered as you examined the manor through your mask.

“May I escort the two loveliest ladies into the ballroom?” your father speaks as he offers his arms to you and your mother. You smile widely at him before you made your way to the ballroom where the rest of the party was.

The ballroom was enchanting. The walls were golden adorned with the most gorgeous architecture you have ever seen. Painted ceilings of pastel colors with tall candelabras that illuminated them. The orchestra played passionately as couples ranged from ages eighteen to fifty danced across the floor, women’s dresses swaying with each elegant movement.

Your eyes searched the dance floor, trying to see if you recognized someone’s body language or movements. But everyone looked unfamiliar to you. Almost as if there was a fog over your eyes.

That’s when your question was answered. “There is a spell cast over the ballroom,” your mother speaks. “To ensure that no one recognizes each other until all masks are removed. When the clock strikes midnight, all masks are removed and everyone sees each other for who they truly are. Exciting, isn’t it?” your mother whispers as you smile.

It was truly a one of a kind experience. You stood and watched those who danced around you, quietly sipping on champagne. Your eyes drifted off to the sidelines as you looked at the people who were your age. Everyone looked beautiful. One girl wore a dress of ruby red and a large diamond necklace that hung gently from her neck as she made quiet chatter with what you assumed was her parents. Another boy wore a velvet suit of navy blue with shiny dress shoes. He quietly stood by himself, watching each and every lady in the room, watching out for who caught his attention.

Every one of the age of eighteen was on a mission it seemed. These people wanted to find their partner for the night and potentially for their life. The stakes were high. It made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. Your competitive nature was coming over you; you couldn’t help it. You were determined to find someone tonight if it was the last thing you did.

Suddenly, the music faded away and the sound of a clinking glass filled the room. “Good evening, esteemed guests,” a feminine voice called out. “Welcome to the annual masquerade ball!” she exclaims, earning claps from every corner of the ballroom. “As you all know, the ball is designed for young witches and wizards to find a partner. We welcome each of you with excitement for the journey that lies ahead of you. That being said, the time as come for the eligible witches and wizards to come onto the dance floor and mingle. Wizards, you may approach any witch who is eligible and ask to have a place on her dance card. Remember, do not tell each other of your names! The dances will begin in ten minutes, so get to talking!” Another cling resounds in the ballroom as eligible bachelorettes and bachelors flood the dance floor.

You turn to your parents and give them nervous eyes as your mother and father give you a warm smile. “You’ll be brilliant,” your father speaks as your mother grabs your champagne glass and hands you your dance card.

With a deep breath, you shake your head and walk out to the dance floor. Your heart was thudding hard against your chest. The moment you stepped onto the floor, someone approached you. “Good evening,” the boy bows as you curtsy to him. “Might I say you look gorgeous this evening,” he compliments you.

You smile, “Thank you very much. You look very nice as well.” He wore a simple black suit and a green pocket square. The detail made you think he was definitely in Slytherin house. Was he in your year? Did you know him personally? Was it Malfoy? No, Malfoy wouldn’t be this kind to you. But then again, he didn’t know it was you.

The boy speaks, “Could I have the pleasure of having a space on your dance card?”

He seemed friendly and kind, there was no reason to say no. Maybe as you danced he would become more interesting. “I would be delighted,” you respond as you hand him your card. He strikes the card with two x’s before returning it to you.

“Thank you, my lady,” he bows before walking away quickly to the very next girl he laid eyes on. You were startled at how quickly you moved, but quickly realized he had prepared some sort of script to dance with as many women as possible before his time was up. Clever.

You continue to make your way around the ballroom, chatting to a few more suitors here and there. Some men you found more charming and clever than other, while others you found yourself bored of, politely dismissing their request for a place on your dance card.

Glancing at the dance card tied around your wrist, you think to yourself about the gentlemen who asked for a space and you granted them the honor of a dance. The first space to the boy who wanted to ask every lady to a dance, the next to a tall, dark, and handsome gentleman with the deep voice, the next to a funny gentleman with a thick Scottish accent, and the last space empty. There was only two minutes left of the mingling before you were to dance with your suitors.

Too distracted by your dance card, you bump into someone else’s body, making you stumble a bit. “Oh my days, I’m so sorry,” you apologize to the body in front of you.

You look up and meet a pair of ice blue eyes that seem to stare into your soul. Your heart stops in its chest as you suck in a breath. In that moment, it felt like the whole ballroom had stopped moving and it was just you two in time. The two of you said nothing and just looked at each other, deep into the other’s eyes. It was if the man in front of you’s eyes held all the secrets to the world.

Clearing his throat, he speaks in a low tone, “No, I apologize. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You politely smile at him. “But in a way, I’m thankful that I wasn’t or else I wouldn’t have stumbled upon you,” he casually flirts making you blush.

The gentleman bows before you as you curtsy, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. It was like there was some sort of magnet between the two of you. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? You remember Lottie saying it should feel like there were butterflies flying around and your head should be fuzzy, but none of those sensations were happening. You just felt hot in your face and your palms were sweating, thank goodness for your long gloves.

“I’m glad neither of us were paying attention,” you confess as he smirks. “You are much more interesting than what I was previously focused on.”

The mysterious suitor in front of you chuckles. “I can only hope that you have a spot for me saved on your dance card,” he speaks as you blush.

Teasingly you look at your dance card and fake gasp, “Well, would you look at that? One last spot saved for a special someone...” The gentleman chuckles again as he ticks off the last spot on your dance card.

He slips the card back around your wrist as you suck in a breath as he fingers touch you. “I look forward to our dance,” he bows as you reciprocate the gesture. “Until then, my lady.”

His eyes don’t leave yours until the very last moment as he walks away. You could swoon. He was charming, smooth, witty, and even though much of his face was concealed by his mask, you knew he was handsome. He just had to be. Your face felt hot and your mouth was dry. You knew that you would anxiously await him as your last dance.

With another few clinks against the glass, you are informed that it is time to start the dancing. But before people gather with their first partners, people run back over to where their parents were quietly observing. You excitedly scurry to your mother and father and small smile on your lips dancing as you approach them. Your mother smiles, “Anyone interesting?”

You don’t say a word and take a sip of the champagne that your father offered you. “I know that smile,” he beams. “Which one, darling?” You don’t speak. “Oh, tell us, dearest. We don’t know who any of them are, we are just as clueless as you.”

Sighing, you surrender. “The last gentleman. The one I bumped into.” Your mother scans the room, looking for him. “He has my interest the most out of all of them by far. If the dance goes well, I recon he’ll ask me to promenade outside,” you giggle as your mother joins you.

Your father speaks, “With a chaperone, I assume.”

You roll your eyes as your mother slaps him on the arm. “She’s eighteen, Samuel. She can walk outside with a suitor. Besides, there is security all around the manor. She will be safe.” Your father sighs as your mother looks at you and hands you your lipgloss to reapply. “Go on. Have fun. Play the field, dearest. Remember what I taught you.”

“Yes, Mother,” you beam before heading back to the dance floor.

There, the first boy is waiting for you, his arm extended. You walk arm in arm to the dance floor as the orchestra begins to play a ballroom waltz. His arm is around your waist gently, his one hand holding onto yours as you begin to dance. “Is this your first masquerade ball?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yessir.”

He smiles, “So you’ve just turned eighteen I presume.” You nod again. “This is my fourth ball. I’m hoping to find my one and only here tonight. Do you think you have met yours?” he asks.

You are taken aback by his directness. “Um,” you stutter, “I’m not quite sure. I mean we’ve just met each other.”

He retorts, “Yes, but sometimes you just know, don’t you. You know what I mean?” His eyes are fixated on yours in a fashion that is full of anxiety and nerves as he anticipates your answer. His eyes have a tired look in them, but behind their exhaustion, there is hope.

You gulp, “Nope.” He furrows his brows. “But maybe another lady here understands what you are saying,” you remain hopeful for him as he sighs.

“I am hopeful,” he speaks. “That’s all we can be.”

Before you know it he spins you away and you land in the arms of your second suitor. The tall, dark, and handsome one. You smile as he smirks down at you. “Good evening, my lady,” he speaks in a deep tone that makes you feel like a school girl. “You are ravishing.” You kindly thank him. “So, are you here like everyone else? To find a partner?”

You speak, “I guess so. My parents would like me to be open to the idea of finding a suitor, but I’m still young. I would like to enjoy my time as a single, free woman of my age and status.”

He nods his head. “I see, I see. My parents want me to find a wife here tonight. Me on the other hand? I really don’t want anything serious. I’m just trying to find someone to shag to be quite honest with you. I’m too young to be tied down quite yet,” he reveals as your eyes widen. His eyes on the other hand remain fixated on yours, but aren’t afraid to wander to look around at the other women on the dance floor. You watch his eyes as they occasionally find another woman’s and he drops one of them into a wink. He was a flirt, couldn’t be tied down type. Bedroom eyes that wandered through several bedrooms type eyes. You’ve dealt with those eyes before and were not looking to deal with them again.

You agreed with him on the part of being free and not finding anything too serious, but just a person to have sex with? That wasn’t what you were looking for either. “I see,” you tell him as he winks through his mask. “I’m not quite sure I want something that casual. I am looking for something more consistent, a little more serious than just a shag. More emotional intimacy as well.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “It’s a shame. I found you quite attractive,” he sighs.

But before you can protest, he spins you away from him and into the arms of your next caller, the funny Scot. “Hello there,” he greets you as you meet his gaze. He wears a gentle smile with kind eyes. His eyes are soft and full of childlike wonder. It makes your heart swell to see someone with such eyes.

You softly smile at him, “Hello again.”

The two of you dance back and forth, making light chatter here and there, him sliding in a joke when he can, earning a few giggles from you as he smiles. “How has your night been so far?” he asks you. “Has anyone caught your eye yet?”

You sigh, “The night has been tame so far, but no complaints.” He nods. “As for someone catching my eye, I cannot lie,” you smile as his interest peaks. “There was someone I met who I have my last dance with.”

The Scotsman chuckles, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?”

You join in his light laugher. “What about you? Have you met someone yet?” you ask him as you continue to waltz across the ballroom.

You can see a light rosy hue appear on his cheeks as he smiles. “I have indeed,” he looks across the ballroom as you follow his line of sight. And there she was, dancing with the man you were dancing with before. The same girl from earlier with the gorgeous ruby red gown. “She’s wonderful. And I’ve only spoken to her twice and no more than a total of six minutes.”

Giving his forearm a soft squeeze, you repeat his phrase, “That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?” He smiles. Maybe you didn’t need a suitor out of the Scot, maybe he was a good friend.

“In that case, we both don’t mind what I’m about to do,” he speaks.

And then he spun you around and off to your last dance.

And that’s when your eyes meet.

You inhale sharply when his hand finds the small of your back and he takes your hand in his. His eyes were still that beautiful ice blue that stared right into your soul and made you want to tell him all of your deepest darkest secrets. Eyes that could tempt you into making the most dangerous decision. Eyes that could lure you into a trap, but a trap that you wouldn’t mind being stuck in.

He breaks the silence first. “We meet again,” he smirks as you blush lightly. The two of you begin dancing as the orchestra swells with music, almost as if they waited to play the most enchanting music right now in this moment. The violins hum a hauntingly beautiful melody as the violas and cellos support the sound. The moment was more than you could ever ask for. “I must tell you, I loathe dancing,” he whispers, making you giggle. “But somehow,” he starts. “You make it feel alright. Not good, but alright.”

You lightly laugh, “I’m glad I can make dancing tolerable for you.” The two of you continue to dance, letting your gown sweep across the floor as the music crescendos. “How has your night been so far? Enjoying yourself?” you ask, curious to know where his mind was at. It had only been minutes but you wanted to know everything about the gentleman in front of you.

The gentleman sighs, “It’s been fine. Not particularly a huge fan of balls or dances. But so far, so good.” He drops his left eye in a wink. “And yourself? How have your other dances been?” he asks you.

You bite your lip and take a moment to think. Now was not the time to play a mind game with him, though you so easily could. But you let your heart get ahead of your head and speak, “None of them as good as compared to this one.” The gentleman laughs, turning away from you in order for you to not catch his delighted blush on his white cheeks. “And your other dances? Did they make dancing more or less tolerable?” you joke with him.

Before the gentleman answers, he looks at the ground with a small smile. He looks up at you and gulps. “I actually didn’t ask anyone else to dance. Just you,” he reveals, making you breath hitch in your throat. That was quite the confession. “No other lady caught my eye like you did.” You don’t turn away when you blush at his flirtations. His eyes stare into yours as your mouth runs dry. “You have the most captivating eyes.”

It felt like you were in a storybook in this moment. The way the orchestra played, how he held you tightly against his body, the way his eyes stared into yours. Your eyes harnessing the power and energy of a thousand suns, but his ice blue eyes able to tame the heat they gave off. Why did this feel so right?

“I don’t know if I should say this,” you start, “but I’m going to anyway.”

He laughs, “I love a girl who can speak her mind. Go on.”

You breathe, “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Like this isn’t our first time meeting. I feel like I’ve known you since the dawn of time.”

You can see him gulp and blink a few times. Did your words scare him? Were you too upfront with him? But before you can think of any more questions, he speaks, “It’s like you can read my mind.” You chuckle as he smiles. “I feel like I was supposed to meet you here, tonight, in this moment. Like this dance was...fate. And I don’t believe in fate.”

For the rest of your dance, no more words are spoken. The two of you just sway and dance to the orchestra that swells with beautiful music. You both gaze into each others eyes and watch the expressions that come across each others faces. With the occasional laugh here and there, absolutely nothing is said. Slowly, everyone around you begins to fade and it is just you two in the ballroom. Why was this happening? You prayed that this was a sign. A sign that this was right, he was right. But you didn’t get the feeling that Lottie was describing to you earlier in your room. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you were about to burst, but no stomach churning or head reeling. Instead, you felt like you were burning. Burning for this man. Burning for his touch. Burning for his attention. You could only hope he felt the same.

Before you know it, the orchestra finishes playing and everyone slowly stops dancing. The ballroom applauds the orchestra and you both join in, but don’t leave each others gazes. Soon enough, people begin to leave the dance floor to partake in other conversations or dance with other people or even promenade outside.

You smile at your gentleman and say, “Thank you for the dance. It was...magical to say the least.” You curtsy to him and turn away to go, but wished you didn’t have to.

Without even taking a step away, you feel him grab your hand. “Wait,” he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “Would you...would you like to go for a promenade with me? Outside on the grounds?”

Your heart skips a beat as you sigh and smile, causing him to smile back. He had his answer right there. “I would be more than delighted,” you confess. “One moment please,” you tell him before walking over to where your mother and father watched you in anxious anticipation.

“So?” your mother beams as you nod your head as she smiles.

You had her your dance card and give your father a smile. “I’m going for a promenade outside with the last gentleman I danced with,” you beam as your father nods his head approvingly. “I will see you later,” you speak before walking back to your gentleman as he extends his arm to you.

Your father holds onto your mother’s arm, “Porpentina, how our daughter has grown.” They watch you exit the french doors out of the ballroom and into the gardens of the Malfoy Manor.

Still arm in arm, your suitor speaks, “Now, I know we can’t reveal much of our identities to each other, but I would like to know more about you.” You smile at him, holding onto his arm tightly. “What’s your family like?”

Smiling as you think of your mother and father, you start, “They’re wonderful people. My mother has been my sun, moon, and stars since I could remember. She’s passionate and smart and powerful. She’s everything I want to be.” The gentleman smiles as you tell him of your mother. “My father is incredibly kind though many wouldn’t believe that because of what he does for a living,” you laugh. “But he’s my protector. He’s sacrificed so much for me and for my mother. He’s the best man I know.”

He squeezes your arm. “They sound lovely.” You squeeze his arm back to let him know that his sentiment is appreciated. “Any siblings?” You shake your head. “In that case, we are similar. I’m also an only child.”

“What about your parents? What are they like?” you question him next.

This earns a gulp and deep breath from him. “Well,” he starts. “My mother is kind-hearted. Braver than anyone I have ever met. She’s suffered a lot and continues to suffer just to protect me,” he confesses to you. “I’m sorry I know that’s a lot, but-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you cut him off, placing a hand on his. “She sounds remarkable. Please, continue.”

He smiles. “She is remarkable. The best woman I know.” You smile warmly at him. Your cheeks hurt so much from smiling. The gentleman takes a deep breath in before starting, “My father on the other hand. He’s a complex man. We’re not particularly close. But similar to your father, he protects me to the best of his ability. I’m not sure whether it’s out of love for his son or for some other selfish reason...probably the latter...” he trails off. You look at his face as it falls lightly. You feel for him. “But that’s beside the matter. I want to know more about you. What are your passions? What are your ambitions in life? What do you want to do with our lives that can be so fucking meaningless?”

You laugh at his joke, crinkling your nose as you do so as he watches you contort your face in delight. He thought you looked beautiful when you laughed. “Well,” you catch your breath. “I want to do something that my family never did. I want to pursue a career when I can help people. Other people. And I have no benefit from it. I just want to help others in any way. When I was a child, I used to want to be a Healer. Then when I was a little older I wanted to be an Auror. But now I’m thinking about being a Healer again or maybe do some form of charity work and philanthropy? I don’t know. I have dreams, but I don’t know which ones to pursue.”

You look at the man beside you and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It all sounds wonderful to me. You seems so selfless. I’m not used to it, I guess,” he confesses. “But whatever you chose, I know you’ll be brilliant.”

The two of you continue to chat and walk through the gardens, discussing future plans, hopes and dreams, and whatever comes to mind. Talking to this man felt like breathing. It was so easy. Conversation flowed like a channel of water. The conversation seemed never ending and you were perfectly fine with that. You had completely forgotten that you didn’t even know what this man’s name was, but to be honest, you didn’t care. You already knew so much about him from your conversations, you didn’t need to know something as silly as a name.

You walk further and further through the garden until you come across a small area that was covered in rose bushes. It was a strange sight to see, beautiful roses in full bloom in the middle of winter, but with magic, anything was possible. As you walked closer, the masked gentleman plucked one from the bush and offered it to you as you graciously accepted. You continued to walk as he spoke, “There is a game called Rose, Bud, Thorn where you tell someone of the best part of your day, the worst part of your day, and something you are looking forward to. I want to hear yours.”

You nod, “Alright then. My thorn is having to wear this bloody fucking corset top all night,” he laughs at your comment. “My bud is taking said bloody corset off when I get home,” the two of you chuckle. “And my rose...I guess was meeting you,” you bump into his arm playfully. He smiles. “Your turn.”

He sighs, “Let’s see...my thorn is having to dance tonight.” You scoff. “Although, you did make it better...” he teases as you roll your eyes teasingly. “My rose is having the most beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman at this ball with me right now,” he breathes as you blush. “And my bud...” he turns to you as you take a gulp. His soothing icy blue eyes staring into yours made you shiver. “My bud will be taking off this bloody mask of yours and seeing your beautiful face.”

His face is so close to yours, you feel his breath against your lips. Your mouth his dry as you feel him moving closer and closer to your lips. His eyes look at your glossed lips before moving back to your eyes and inching closer and closer to you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest. This was all happening so fast, and yet you were alright with it?

But before he can kiss you, a guard interrupts. “All ball attendees must report inside as per the hosts’ request. It is almost midnight and time for the unmasking!”

The gentleman in front of you sighs as he turns to the guard and gives him a dirty look. “So much for a romantic moment,” he huffs as you chuckle. He takes your hand in his as you both walk back to the inside of the Manor, retracing your steps. You are only a few paces away from inside when he speaks, “Those guards always know how to ruin a bloody moment of mine.”

You furrow your brows and chuckle, “What do you mean?”

“They always seem to catch me at the worst time to tell me something important,” he speaks as you remain confused. He notices your confusion and laughs. “This will all make sense in a moment.” You contort your face in confusion, but before you can ask any further questions the same woman who spoke at the beginning of the ball spoke again. “Welcome back! I hope you all had a lovely night full of mystery and romance,” she giggles. “But now the mystery is over.” Behind her, the clock strikes midnight and bongs. “The spell over the ballroom has been lifted and you may all remove your masks! Please reveal yourselves to each other!”

Slowly, people reveal their true identities and you start recognizing people from Hogwarts. The girl with the ruby red dress that the Scot took a liking too was Pansy Parkinson. So many other familiar faces are revealed as you chuckled. This really was a magical moment.

Beside you, your mysterious man sighs. “Finally.” Your heart beats quickly as you turn to him, anticipating who the man behind the mask was. You hoped he was handsome like you had imagined him to be. Was it someone you knew? Maybe an old classmate? Maybe someone from Hogwarts? Who could it be?

Reaching behind his head, he pulls on the silk strings that hold his mask up. Gently he peels it off and runs his fingers through his styled hair. And that’s when your heart stops and drops into your stomach.

The platinum blonde hair, the icy cold, unforgiving eyes, the pink lips that curled into that smirk. It was all too familiar. All too familiar that it made your chest feel tight with venom and anger. How could you be so naive? How did you not remember those eyes? Those eyes that dug into yours. Those lips that spat such cruel and vile words at you when you were just children.

It was Draco Malfoy.

You inhale a sharp jagged breath as he laughs. “I know, it’s strange, but I’m assuming things are starting to click for you. Especially with how I know the guards and why they let us into the rose garden. But it’s me. I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy,” he speaks with a smile. You feel like you are about to vomit.

Of course, how could you not notice the guards letting you both through the gardens without interruption or protest? How did you not notice his wave of a finger when you needed to be let through somewhere? How did you let him distract you? How did you let yourself become so captivated by the man you hated most in the world?

“I think it’s only fair if I see you now,” he chuckles, waiting for you to take off your mask.

But instead of taking off your mask, you wanted to run. Run far away. Run so far and forget this whole night happened. Forget every word exchanged with Draco full of such adoration. This was a sick joke.

Draco notices your horror and he speaks, “Are you alright, darling?”

His nickname for you made your stomach churn. You felt ill.

You couldn’t look at him any longer. You turned away and began to swiftly walk away from him. “Wait, where are you going?” he asks as you weave through the crowd. “Please, don’t go!”

Your stomach was churning and your head was reeling. How could this have happened. Then it all clicks. Lottie’s words. My stomach felt like it was doing flips and my head was reeling. There was no way. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. You were in love with Draco fucking Malfoy. This was a nightmare.

That’s when his hand grabs your arm and flips you to look at him. “Where are you going?” he laughs as he looks at you. “Are you that surprised?” he asks with a smile as you just stand there, trying to catch your breath. His brows furrow. “Is there something wrong? Do we know each other?” he asks. “Take off your mask so I can see you, darling.”

In pure anger and frustration, you hastily sigh and undo the masks strings quickly before ripping it off your face to reveal your identity. The smile on Draco’s face instantly drops as he recognizes exactly who you are.

And there you were, two enemies standing in front of each other, glaring at each other in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by other young couples who were falling in love. The two of you just burning holes into the other. The energy of a thousand suns trying to melt the ice that stared right back at it. Two sworn enemies now destined to fall in love. What a conundrum this was.

“Call me darling again and I’ll hex you, Malfoy,” you breath through pants of sheer anger.

Your stomach was still doing flips and your head continued to reel. Your face was flushed. How could Draco Malfoy and your masked gentleman be the same person? It was impossible. Your gentleman was kind and charming and witty and smart and thoughtful. Draco Malfoy was vile and rude and unkind and selfish and self absorbed and loathsome. There was no way you could be in love with a version of someone who you swore you would hate until you took your last breath.

Draco’s face slowly moves into a cautious one. “(Y/N),” he starts. “I swear I didn’t know it was you. I was just as clueless as you. You have to believe that I didn’t do this on purpose.”

You laugh, “I don’t believe a thing that comes out of your mouth. I was stupid to believe that I could fall for a person as disgusting and despicable as you.”

And with that, you march away from Draco, ignoring his calls out for you as you approach your mother and father. Once they see you, their expressions change from excitement to concern. Before anyone of them can ask what was wrong, you demand, “We are going home. Right now. I want to go home. Please. Can we go home?”

You feel a lump in your throat and your eyes become hot with tears. Your mother grabs your hand as your father pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. The last thing you hear before you leave the ball was Draco’s voice calling out for you to come back.

Before you know it, you are back in the comfort of your own home, face stained with tears as you run up the stairs to your room. You ignore your mother and father’s call to tell them what happened. You slam your bedroom door shut and lock it before letting the sob rake through your body, shaking you from the inside out.

You were foolish to believe you could find someone at a stupid ball. Those fucking masks. Making you believe someone was something they weren’t. It was all a lie. Smoke and mirrors. And you fell for it. You fell for Draco and there was nothing that you could do to forget it.

You fell for a facade and you would have to live with that forever. How you were supposed to face him at Hogwarts was beyond your control.

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hes-writer · 4 years

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All Too Well

Summary: right person, wrong time

Warning: sweet fluff and angst

Word Count: 4519 words

A/N: listen to ‘All Too Well’ by Taylor Swift first as there are some references throughout the fic. I also added time stamps as this occurs over the course of one year. I’m sorry if it’s confused—I tried my best to make it as coherent as possible ❤️

also, covid doesn’t exist in this au!

‘~~~’ = flashback, ‘—‘ = cut scene

November 2020

Y/N scrambled through the many articles of clothing sprawled in her drawer. The fabrics mingling with each other into a giant mess. It didn’t even include the pile of clothes sitting on the mattress and dripping on the floor.

That was the thing with Y/N. She had a habit of keeping things she didn’t need. She wasn’t a hoarder—although, Y/N did keep more things in favour of their sentimental value. It was her thing.

The fact that she could cradle a t-shirt in her palms and tell someone exactly what happened on a day that moulded the story of that specific shirt was her skill. Y/N liked to think that you could tell a lot about a person on what kind of clothes they wore—whether they were seeking affection or isolating, but not lonely.

In fact, her clothes didn’t just hold meaning for herself—it catered pieces of places she went to wearing the outfit. The things she thought of while adorning it, the emotions that she felt as it covered or—barely—shielded her skin. It was especially important to her to remember the people she spent it with.

Like that oversized, knee-length coat hung near the back of her closet. Y/N barely wore it now but seeing it beneath the splayed doors of the wardrobe, she could see flashes in her head about the last time she had worn it.

The way the pea coat flowed behind her as she twirled in a gentle circle, twisting the fabric slightly and catching tiny drops of littered snow. Y/N could picture the bulbous hat she wore on her head. A tiny pompom weighing every which way with the direction of her head. Her hands were in warm mittens that rendered her fingerless. The snow boots on her feet were crunching with every step of the crisp white snow beneath her feet.

It was truly a winter wonderland when the white weather sprinkled down on her—on them.

Y/N could just about feel the same large grin replicating her face when she snapped out her memory. The ghost of the hung overcoat literally hunted her as it rested in the shadows of her closet.

Y/N blinked twice, slouching her shoulders as she stayed frozen on her knees. The carpet wasn’t doing much to protect her taut skin, but she was in search of something and intended to find it. Except, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

She was sure that there was absolutely no way that she could lose it. It was a loud patterned scarf that frayed at the edges. It was, quite possibly, the ugliest design Y/N had laid her eyes upon. Though, a certain someone had reassured her that she looked beautiful regardless. Besides, the air was way too chilly to think about fashion choices that day.

~~~

December 2019

“Why don’t you pose for me, love?” Harry suggested, holding his phone tightly in one hand. That same hand was pulled free of the warm confines of his leather gloves as he insisted on capturing a few photos of his girl.

“You got it, mister,” Y/N replied, bending down to ball a glob of snow in her mitten-covered hand. She could just barely feel the iciness radiating off the protective layer. “Mind if I add some props?”

She lifted her hand, a raised brow quirking up her knit beanie.

Harry chuckles, “Go right ahead,”

He tilted his phone, ignoring the way his fingers lost feeling at the fingertips in favour of watching the woman of his dreams throw the patch of snow in the air. He captured the picture, admiring the way her back looked. Y/N really was beautiful from all angles. It was kind of counterintuitive, really, since it was snowing after all. But Harry was way too enamoured to question the questionable actions of his lover.

Besides, the gleaming smile on her face was enough to wipe his mind clean of anything other than her.

“Great! Why don’t you turn around?”

The woman looked over her shoulder was a subtle roll of her eyes, “No way,”

“C’mon, love. ‘S not even tha’ ugly,” Harry urged, commenting about the scarf wrapped around her neck.

She scoffed, “The fact that you have to reassure me is proof that it is ugly,”

Y/N played with the thin ends of the fabric, smiling to herself as she heard Harry groan loudly behind her. They were staying at Gemma’s house for the holidays and Y/N had purchased the first scarf she had seen at the store. She had nearly forgotten it if it weren’t for Harry calling her the night before to ensure that she would be warm during their stay. Not only was it cold, but the chilliness was just a tad too crisp to leave the cozy home without some sort of neck protection.

So, here she was dressed all cute from head-to-toe except her shoulders. It was a bit stupid to care so much about an ugly scarf design but Y/N guessed it had something to do with wanting everything to be perfect.

“I don’t think it’s ugly,” Harry quipped, sounding much closer than he had before. “‘Think it’s really nice. Especially the cutie who’s wearing it. Mind if I borrow it some time?”

Y/N couldn’t help the appearance of her love-struck eyes, smiling again when she felt his bundled arms snaked around her waist. Harry was warm, as usual, and he was sturdy as a rock both literally and metaphorically. Standing still in the snow gave her a bit of a shiver but having Harry’s body close was a breath of relief.

He cradled her between his arms, resting his own scarf-covered chin on her shoulder. Y/N knew that he must’ve been bending at the knees to reach that height. She clutched his naked hand between her mittens, directing it to a pocket in the confines of her coat to keep warm.

“Are you talking about me or the scarf?”

“How about both? Make it a two-for-one deal, yeah?” Harry’s voice was a bit hazy.

He felt as though he was captivated in a trance, watching the snowflakes rest gently on the slope of Y/N’s lashes. Her eyes glancing at their joined, mittened and gloved, hands.

She sighed, “Why not?”

Harry gave a silent cheer, leaning little ways into peck her cold cheek with his lips.

“Alright, now why don’t ya’ twirl for me, Y/N?” He instructed, taking cautious steps back in the snow.

“Like this?”

Harry nodded, thumbing the red button on his phone to press ‘record’. He watched as Y/N gracefully spun in a circle. Her pea coat flailed just at knee-level. Her boots squelched the starch white snow.

She did a full 360 before fully facing him with a bright grin. Harry couldn’t be sure how much his heart could take. He switched the setting to capture a photo.

“Exactly like that,”

He wanted to remember this.

~~~

Upon realization that Y/N would not get hold of that specific scarf—at least not for a while—because it was at Gemma’s home miles away from her, Y/N forced herself to clean up the mess she had made. Maybe it was the sudden strike of sensitivity coursing through her but Y/N felt much more emotional than she did before.

Perhaps it was the match-strike ignition of burning memories that flickered through her brain because once she started; she couldn’t stop.

It started with the frosty memory of twirling in the deep snow. Then, it was the flashback of driving from the grocery store to pick up ingredients before heading back to Gemma’s.

Y/N couldn’t deny the butterflies she felt playing that particular memory back because it was one of the moments that cemented a deep-rooted emotion in her.

The feeling of being beautiful—captivating, charming and alluring that Harry failed to notice the red traffic light switching to a reflective green. (‘Oi! Eyes on the road’)

She could still see the blush on his pale skin, realizing that he had been caught staring. And, by the way, the car behind them honked when Harry failed to move through the intersection. (‘Sorry, got distracted’).

And Y/N didn’t want to say anything but she could feel his tiny glances over her when Harry thought that she wasn’t paying attention.

———

November 2020

It has been nearly a year now.

Only a few more weeks until the dreaded date looped around to a full year passing. This time, Harry wasn’t around to celebrate the festivities with her and that ugly scarf was an article that Y/N had desperately missed. Ironically.

It would be just under a year when Harry had taken Y/N to his childhood home—now Gemma’s house as Anne had moved to a smaller place. It was where he excitedly showed her his room—the posters on his walls. The comics he used to read and the CD’s he used to listen to piled on his desk.

~~~

December 2019

“Quite an improvement,” Y/N commented, sitting on the edge of his twin-sized bed. She was referring to his King-sized bed from when she had slept over a couple of times.

“I’d say,” Harry agreed. The wood creaked under his weight as he sat beside her.

They both stared at the wall in front of them, feeling a sense of intimacy as Harry shared the remnants of his life to her.

The day continued when Anne had called the both of them down for hot cocoa, paired with a striped red, green and white candy cane dipped in the mug.

This was the part that hurt Y/N the most. It was almost too painful to remember—to reminisce because it was proof that the couple were so close to making a future together.

It didn’t happen, though.

Despite Anne and Gemma’s stories about a once upon a time, dorky Harry in his glasses (‘He still is’)—his family couldn’t stop referencing Y/N as his future.

“Hope your kids don’t take after his naked habit”

“Maybe your garden will have wild roses”

“Reckon you guys will get a small home?”

It made Y/N’s cheeks heat up. His family already thought of her as part of their family. And one sneaky look at Harry ensured her that Anne and Gemma weren’t the only ones thinking of their future because Harry caught her gaze long enough to give her the answer she was subconsciously searching for.

And when salutations had to be said, Harry and Y/N said goodbye to Gemma and Anne as they were to return to their respective London homes.

It was also the day that Harry had asked Y/N to move in with him.

——

It was exciting, to say the least. Moving in with your significant other was a big step in any relationship. The fact that Harry was a world-renowned superstar almost disappeared from Y/N’s mind because even though his home was a million times larger than her tiny flat—it immediately felt like home.

Harry wasn’t one to dwell too much on changes. In fact, he often referred to it as a sign that things were moving forward. There was no use being stuck in the same place when the universe had so much to offer. So, he was quite glad when Y/N made herself comfortable in his—their—home.

She managed to make the large place feel cozy. The decorations and tiny trinkets she had placed all over the house were really just pieces of her heart sprinkled in a home in which they’d build a life together. He would look at a pastel-coloured tea kettle and question when he had gotten the appliance before realizing that it was Y/N’s. Harry would use the tea kettle to boil water instead of using his Keurig.

___

Their schedules wouldn’t always line up. But Harry and Y/N were too loved-up to care how little time they spent with each other. There was no use in complaining when they could use that time to appreciate each other—for sticking around. For being the same when things moved too fast. For being the rock that both of them needed when times get rough.

Harry’s late studio sessions ran through the early morning when Y/N would be cooped up in their shared bedroom. Fast asleep and hugging his scented pillow. Sometimes he would find her bundled with a blanket on the living room couch. The soft glow of the television highlighting Y/N’s beautiful features. One look at her was enough to release Harry of the tension he felt on his joints and shoulders.

Y/N’s night shifts were the same too. She would return to a quiet house because Harry had fallen asleep. Despite his attempts to stay awake, he was not a night owl at all. Not only to stay up past ten in the evening unless he was out to do work. She had reassured him countless times that she would be okay on the drive home and that he should sleep when his body grew tired.

Harry tried to stay awake. He really did. And Y/N could tell because as soon as she crawls to her side of the bed, Harry’s right arm immediately pats the cold sheets for her as if sensing that she was nearby. He would mumble a quiet murmur of her name, “Y/N? Tha’ you?”

He would receive no verbal response, nor would Harry be able to see his love in the dark of the night even because Y/N hadn’t bothered to switch her bedside lamp on. Y/N was aware of Harry’s sensitivity to light, especially if he was in the dark for a long period of time. Despite that, Harry would hum in satisfaction when Y/N’s body would etch perfectly against his in a silent greeting that yes it is her.

They would fall fast asleep cuddled into one another.

If they managed to stay awake or if sleep failed to come, Y/N and Harry would trudge down the stairs for a midnight snack, squealing loudly as one playfully chased the other down the staircase.

Sometimes it was Y/N walking in on Harry munching on a few biscuits (‘Not such a health nut anymore, huh?’). Sometimes it was Harry catching Y/N making a fruit salad—an array of fruits and vegetables laying on the counter (‘I take credit for this’, he would say.)

But it would always end the same.

With both of them dancing goofily with each other. The refrigerator light was the only source of illumination because neither would be bothered to turn on an actual light. Not when the fridge served as a light source and a container of a variety of edible choices.

One night would end with Y/N slow dancing in Harry’s arms. His hands-on her waist, grazing her skin when her pyjamas too lifted. Their bodies would rest against each other like a stacked jigsaw. Harry’s chin on her head, hers on his broad shoulder. A pair of their hands clasped tightly on one another while the other found purchase with their bodies.

Harry would hum a light tune or sing softly so that they can find their rhythm. They would sway across the kitchen—slowly—crying out in pain and laughter when one would bump their hip on the marble counter. Y/N would listen to his heartbeat thrumming beneath his chest and even though she could only see a bit of him—it was enough.

One night would end with Y/N and Harry goofily flailing their limbs every which way. Boisterous laughter filling the room as Harry practically wheezed at Y/N’s admittance of performing a mean Dougie.

And with the fridge light catching the bits of it, Harry would slap his palm on the counter to catch himself before his knees gave out below him (‘There’s jus’ no way you’re that good’). She proved him wrong.

Neither of them knew when it would be the last time these moments occurred. Until they stopped completely.

——

It was the small changes that brought them closer together. And what would inevitably drive them apart.

It was the fact that even though the couple didn’t see each other much, they still cherished the time they had together because that was enough.

The relationship was built off of mutual trust, respect and honesty. Time was essential but Harry and Y/N didn’t necessarily need a lot of it. They just needed the reassurance of ‘always’. That no matter what happens, however far away they were from each other physically, however, the time they spent apart—that Harry would always come back to her and Y/N would always run home to him.

——

It was late-August when they broke up.

Leading up to it, Y/N had been promoted at her workplace and Harry was no longer spending late nights at the studio. He was sleeping in the studio instead of coming home.

Y/N was understanding. He was on a time-crunch since his second album was due to be released at the end of that year. She wanted to be as supportive as she had always been—if not, more. Harry didn’t need more pressure from her—his partner—who was supposed to be his solid ground in a cracking centre.

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

It was fine that they were spending less time than they normally would—not that it was a lot in the first place.

He was still trying. She was still trying. Messages, video calls—hell, even emails were there. The rare times when their schedule would actually coincide were spent peacefully sleeping on the bed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Then, Y/N got promoted. More responsibilities. Training her colleagues. Interviewing assistants. Typing detailed emails. Double-checking spreadsheets.

At the same time that Harry was being pulled left and right to make decision after decision. Finalizing next year’s tour dates. Promos. TV shows. Modelling campaigns. Photoshoots. Interviews.

And like any other, answering later turned into a message left on ‘read’. A missed call manifested into an unopened voicemail. A desperate-measures email was only one of the many in each others’ inbox.

Harry wanted Y/N to come with him on tour the following year but it was a stretch waiting to be snapped.

She couldn’t.

Y/N was starting to build her life, building her career and she wasn’t going to give that up for him just yet. He could go on tour and she could visit when time allows. They knew that. Harry would buy her a ticket and she would be off to see him—when she can.

~~~~

June 2020

“I can’t go. You know that,” Y/N sighed, rubbing a palm over her face.

Harry leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom. “I knew that. ‘Was worth a try though,”

They shared a comforting smile with each other. A hint of reassurance when uneasiness prevailed. There was something about the shift from spring to summer that simmered in their chests.

“Promise you’ll come to visit?”

“Of course,”

~~~

London may be Harry and Y/N’s home but LA was calling for him. Hence, why he spent the summer on the other side of the world. On another continent, across the pond, as some people might say.

It’s just a few months. He’ll be back before you know it, Y/N thought.

Harry will be home for the holidays and they would drive up north to spend it with Anne and Gemma as they did the previous year. The year when Y/N had met them for the first time and despite that, attained their approval to build a future with Harry.

Just a few months and then Harry will be back with her. The same Harry who will gently loop an ugly scarf around her neck. Teasing her about its hideousness before reassuring her that it was ‘as stunning as the woman wearing it’. . .or something. Harry always complimented her.

Yet, Harry never came home a few weeks shy before their scheduled road trip as they had planned. And Y/N did not visit him like she had promised to do.

Though, none of them blamed the other because they were too busy with their own lives to keep up with each other. What once was a loving and caring relationship was not a liability pushed to the back burner.

One might say that Harry and Y/N’s love was a case of wrong timing. They were perfect for each other—but just not now.

Because Y/N had a lot of things going for her and expanding her career. Harry was becoming more and more popular and successful by the minute. It wasn’t like they meant to ignore each other or be oblivious that they were still very much in a relationship with each other. Both Harry and Y/N just had a lot on their plate to even think twice about a relationship.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault—really. Even though their phone call says otherwise.

——-

August 2020

“Y-you what? Y/N, love,” Harry spoke through the phone.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the sound of the beloved nickname. It had been a while since she had heard it.

“I want to break up,” She repeated.

“Why?”

The woman picked at her fingernails, distracting herself from going back to the spreadsheet in front of her. She was in the middle of a break up yet her body urged to continue working.

“What do you mean why?” Y/N sighed exasperatedly. “It’s been months since we’ve seen each other, Harry. You said you’ll be home before Christmas so we can see Anne and Gemma but—,”

“We don’t have to see them! Y’can fly out here and spend it with me,”

“You know, I can’t,”

Upon letting those slip past her lips, Y/N was starting to question if Harry had disconnected because of the eeriness over the phone.

And as he said that night months ago with the alteration of Y/N’s word, “‘Know y’cant. You promised, though.”

Harry’s voice cracked and Y/N wondered if he was gnawing on his lip like he usually would when tears overflowed the ducts of his eyes. In the distance, Y/N heard a door close shut and she wondered if he had been working—the same as her—before she had decided to call and he had decided to answer.

A knife pierced into Y/N’s chest, guilt seeping in her veins as she recalled the words she had uttered to him. A promise that she would visit if he gave her the ticket. But that was then and this is now.

She wasn’t the head of her department then. Y/N had a lot more responsibilities now and she couldn’t just up and leave whenever she wanted to.

“And you promised to come back. Did you?”

He didn’t.

“Look, can we talk about this later? ‘M in the middle of recording and—“

“When are you not?” Y/N cut him off absentmindedly, splitting her attention on the Excel sheet in front of her.

“Excuse me?” Harry quipped, faintly hearing the clacks of a keyboard. “I know I work a lot but y’do too. Barely even respond to my texts anymo’”

“Says the one who doesn’t answer my calls,” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes.

And there it was again. The defeat of silence that proved no matter how much they retaliated against one another—neither of them would win because both of them were at fault.

“I was busy,”

“I am, too,”

“Y/N—“

“What?”

“I-I don’t want to lose you. . .”

The ache in Y/N’s chest grew tenfold. Her fingers momentarily paused over the keys of her laptop board. There was nothing to lose. Not when they’ve already thrown it away.

“I don’t want to either, H. But don’t you think breaking up is better than waiting for something that will never happen?”

“What won’t?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N pushed her chair back, staring at the view of the city from her office.

“Us. Our future. It won’t happen because you’re busy and I’m busy. There’s no right time for us to start, Harry.”

“Who says there has to be a right time, huh?”

“Says, everybody! How are we supposed to build our relationship further when there is no relationship to work on?”

The waves of emotion came crashing down. For months, Y/N had suppressed the feeling of loneliness inside of her. She missed Harry so badly that it hurt her to admit so she went with the temporary bliss of balling it up until it became too much.

“We just need time, Y/N. We don’t need to do it at the right time. Y’know that,” Harry whispered, wishing so badly that this conversation didn’t take place over the phone where he was currently locked in a bathroom stall.

He continued, “You were there, weren’t you? Barely saw you but y’were there. You know how I feel about you and I know you feel about me. We jus’ need time,”

Time.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N would slow dance in the kitchen at god-knows-hour of the morning.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N blissfully spent their time in the cold, watching her throw the bundle of snow in the air as if it was in slow-motion.

Because time is when Harry would look at Y/N and swear that it has stopped because nothing else mattered except her.

“You know it, you know it,” Harry gulped, breath hitching over the phone. Was he crying?

“All too well,” Y/N responded underneath her breath. She knew that he was right—that all they needed was a chance to reconnect and rekindle the flame put out by distance.

She hated how familiar every memory was to her. She hated how easily she was brought back to the moment it all happened with just the breath of his whisper.

There was no denying the emotion she felt wearing his hoodie and red and black plaid pyjamas at three in the morning. The affection she received wearing those pieces of clothing from the man who owned them. Her sock feet glided against the cold floor. Everything came flashing back to Y/N and it hurt because there was no way she could grant his wish.

“You’re asking for too much, Harry. I-I can’t give you that. You can’t give me—us—that,”

“W-what are you saying, love?” He whimpered, clutching the device in his hand as a last resort to hold onto something that was drifting away.

He knew that she was right. Y/N couldn’t give him that and he certainly couldn’t either.

“We can’t be together. At least, not now. We’re not the same anymore. We want the same things but we’re headed on different paths,”

“But we’ll meet again, won’t we?” Harry’s hoarse voice exemplified that he was—indeed—been crying. And Y/N’s wet cheeks were proof that she was as well.

“Always,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing

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timelyowl0 · 3 years

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Brittana/Faberry Fic Recs

Hi! Here’s a list I compiled of some of my all time favorite Brittana and Faberry fics! I was originally going to separate the list by Faberry and Brittana, but many of the stories have both, so instead you can just read the pairings listed for each. They are sorted by multi-chapter complete, multi-chapter incomplete/in progress, and one-shots. Each title is a link you can click on to take you to the fic. All credit goes to their respective authors :)

Also, here’s a quick rating guide in case you needed to know:

GA/PG - General Audience

T - Teen

M - Mature

E - Explicit

NR - Not rated

That’s all, I hope you enjoy!

Multi-chapter (complete):

Between The Lines (T) - 19 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana and Rachel/Quinn - Rachel invites Brittany and Santana to a sleepover. Brittany/Santana with a healthy side of Rachel/Quinn

The Only True Paradises (M) - 20 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - The tortuous evolution of Santana's feelings toward Brittany. See also "Pas de Deux," a companion piece from Brittany's point of view.

Pas de Deux (M) - 20 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Companion piece to "The Only True Paradises." The evolution of Santana and Brittany's relationship from Brittany's perspective.

Faithfully (T) - 5 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - "That moment when Santana had sworn, even though she and Brittany were standing at opposite ends of the raised platform…that she could still feel Brittany's energy zinging toward her, like they were connected on the same current." Brittana, Seasons 1 through 5, as told in five increments.

My Girlfriend's Sister's Keeper (T) - 13 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Brittany isn't the only Pierce that has Santana wrapped around her finger. Santana's life with her two favorite people.

Mariposa (M) - 5 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Like a butterfly, Santana's journey out of the closet occurs in stages. From the first time she heard the word gay to the first time she flew free from her chrysalis, she can remember everything.

time passes, in love and in seasons (T) - 4 Part Series - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Brittana, from the end of junior year and throughout senior year, told through the seasons. Mostly follows Season 3 canon.

Brittana Shorts (GA) - 8 Part Series - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - A collection of Brittana-centric short stories

it’s nice to have a friend (T) - 8 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - They're six when they first meet. It's the first day of school in a crowded classroom and Santana finds herself drawn to the new blonde girl. OR The story of how Brittany and Santana meet and all the significant moments in their lives following the first time they see one another. - sequel

A Matter of Miserable Time (T) - 10 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - "His voice was deep, quiet, and sure, so calm compared to the last words they had exchanged. Her voice was only a faint whisper as she questioned the man she hadn't spoken to in three years.'Papi.'"

Influence (M) - 26 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Brittany is perpetually cast as the dumb blonde, but the reasons behind her demeanor are more complex than that. She looks back on her childhood, her relationship with Santana, and the life-altering effects the decisions of her youth had on her future.

It’s Not Like I Wanted This to Happen (T)- 101 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana and Rachel/Quinn - Quinn takes a very drunk Rachel home from a party...encounters the Berrys…and herself. This story contains a huge amount of Brittana and a lot of Puck.

Rough Beginnings (M) - 44 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Quinn decides she needs to end this obsession once and for all, but life doesn't always work out the way we want it to. Sometimes it's so much better. Faberry.

Never Asked to Feel Your Halo (T) - 45 Chapters (1/2 in series) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - The thing was, neither of them wanted this-whatever it was, but since when did the Universe care about what Rachel or Quinn wanted? Their cards had been dealt the moment they'd entered that shower together. Now it came down to how well they played them.

Standing on the Edge Dancing in the Flames (M) - 34 Chapters (2/2 in series) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Life isn't all singing and dancing, not even in Glee club. And what if being on top of the pyramid just gives you further to fall. When everyone feels like a frienemy and fathers and faculty and babies and boyfriends complicate EVERYTHING, how are you ever supposed to get anything right? (Book Two of the 'No Halo' series)

The South Side of Anywhere (M) - 47 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Sometimes you fall in love with your eyes closed, and when you open them, the person is someone you never thought it could be. It started with letters, and turned into Faberry.

Somewhere in Between (M) - 77 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Imagine if Faberry happened instead of Finchel. This is a re-telling of every episode as if Faberry were cannon. Each chapter will chronicle each episode starting at the very beginning. Some things will change and some will remain the same. Longer description in first chapter. Also side Brittana. As well as Quinntana friendship, and Puckleberry bromance.

Didn’t See it Coming (M) - 63 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana? - AU HS. After a devastating breakup, Quinn turns to Rachel in need of a friend, and ends up with so much more. - "If, one day, someone asks me how it all started; I'll have to say it was a granola bar that finally did me in." Faberry.

Bet You Didn’t Know That (T) - 19 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Faberry. What she doesn't know, she doesn't need to find out.

Take Me As I Am Seasons 1 & 2 (T) - 48 chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana and Kurt/Blaine - The incredibly true adventures of Quinn and Rachel, starting from Sectionals Season 1. It's just like watching the show, if Faberry were the central couple and everything revolved around them! Brittana & Klaine co-star in supporting roles.

Take Me As I Am Season 3 (T) - 26 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana and Kurt/Blaine - The continued adventures of Quinn & Rachel as the starring couple of Glee. Some integration of canon events, but mostly this is the story of Faberry and their world! Klaine & Brittana co-star in supporting roles

Blink and You’ll Miss It (M) - 31 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry discover they like each other. Against all odds, will they be able to get together before they tear each other apart?

You’re All I Need (M) - 17 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - A Faberry romance story, set when they are both single but I haven't specified when as I'm not even sure myself but most of the events are from series 3. Points of view will change every few chapters. And that's probably the worst description you've ever read but yeah I can't be bothered to change it.

quarantining or how quinn might lose it, once for all. (T) - 8 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - It starts like the worst horror movie ever but instead of being trapped in the basement of a creepy 50-something year old, Quinn finds herself being trapped in Rachel Berry's basement.

Once More From the Top (T) - 22 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana and others - Here's what you missed on Glee: McKinley's Glee Club reformed under the direction of Will Schuester. Rachel tried to recruit the Cheerios but that ended up being a total disaster. It's cool though because she heard Finn Hudson sing in the shower and he's actually really good. She successfully recruits him and now the Glee Club has enough members to be a real thing.And that's what you missed, on Glee!

Outside Hearts (M) - 37 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Rachel Berry's world is about to be turned upside down when one of Hollywood's most sought-after young actresses, Quinn Fabray, abruptly and mysteriously leaves her fame behind, moves to Ohio and tries to have a normal life while attending McKinley High. (Faberry w/ some Brittana)

I See That Ragged Soul Take Flight (M) - 44 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana, Mike/Tina, Kurt/Blaine and Sam/Mercedes - Ensemble cast piece exploring what happens after Season 3. Rachel, Santana and Kurt are in New York together. Quinn is at Yale. Explores adulthood, friendship and long-distance relationships. Eventual Faberry. Also contains, Brittana, Klaine, Tike and Samcedes content, plotlines back at McKinley, and frequent use of Santana POV.

All The Best (T, but I would rate M for descriptive scenes of suicide, eating disorders, rape, etc.) - 80 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - After spending the entire summer away, Quinn is eager to get back to normal and make the best of her junior year. Excited to put everything behind her and start fresh, she struggles to establish a new normal. But when she's least expecting it, Quinn finds support in the most unlikely places and is forced to confront the very feelings that landed her where she is in the first place.

take these broken wings (M) - 4 Part Series - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana and Kurt/Sam - Begins in Season one and follows Quinn through her life should she have chosen to keep Beth, realize she is gay, and fall in love with Rachel Berry. The main romantic relationship will be Faberry, with a bit of Hevans and Brittana, but apart from Faberry it will be very heavy on friendship and Quinn&Beth oriented.

the state of dreaming (T) - 3 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - Rachel couldn’t help the guilt that bubbled in her chest when she watched Quinn get a prom photo alone. Determined to make it up to her, she invites Quinn over for a sleepover. It becomes a routine. Set immediately after 2x20 (Prom Queen).

Enough to Believe (T) - 2 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - Years after Shelby ups and disappears from Lima with Beth, a blonde girl shows up on Rachel and Quinn's doorstep, armed with a lot of questions, and very familiar cheekbones.

you and her loathing this cruel world (M) - 3 Chapters - Pairings: Quinn/Rachel, minor Kurt/Quinn and Kurt/Sam - "Of all the girls he had to have sex with (which really, were none), of course it was someone with a painting of Jesus above her bed, so he knows that his only hope in hell that this will go away is in a negative test result." Season 1 AU; Kurt is pretty sure he's gay, but would like to make sure. Quinn Fabray has similar questions running through her mind. They put their theories to the test, with very much unintended consequences. - sequel

I’ve Been Trying to Reach You (T) - 25 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana, Santana/Puck, Rachel/Jesse and Sam/Tina - After falling pregnant in sophomore year, Quinn Fabray plummets from the top of the teen hierarchy at McKinley High to the very bottom. In an effort to give her a chance to start over, her parents transfer her to Carmel, a private school in the area with a blossoming arts program. It's supposed to be a new beginning, but what she doesn't count on is immediately becoming enemies with the most popular girl in school: Rachel Berry, co-captain of Vocal Adrenaline.

The Lopez Manifesto (T) - 8 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - santana starts writing a rachel/quinn fanfic for everyone at McKinley. it’s also extremely popular as everyone awaits her weekly updates. (usually based on what the girls are doing that week.) quinn is the last to find out and is… pissed.

my heart’s a leather jacket I am waiting to give to someone sweet (T) - 15 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Brittany is McKinley’s resident broody rebel who doesn’t see much point to high school, and who, completely incidentally, just so happens to be kind of a math genius. Santana is Lima's golden child, the perfect and unapproachable only child of public figure Dr. Lopez. She’s also the high school’s enigma; no one actually knows anything about her aside from the fact that she’s cold, distant, terrifying, aloof, and willing to eviscerate anyone who looks at her the wrong way. Unfortunately for her, Brittany is about to get a crash course in the complete mystery that is Santana Lopez when she is asked—or, more realistically, forced—to be Santana's math tutor.

Dead Girls Don’t Sing (T) - 39 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana, Rachel/Quinn, Kurt/Blaine and Tina/Mike - S3 AU. Brittany doesn't believe in unicorns anymore, Rachel's dreams are as dead as the world, Santana is no one's hero…and Quinn? Quinn's just trying to breathe. The world as they knew it is gone -now all they can do is survive. Zombie Apocalypse. Faberrittana Friendship. Slow Burn Faberry. Character Death. COMPLETE

Simple Parts (T) - 13 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - That awkward moment when you travel thirty years forward in time and find out you're married to your high school nemesis? Yeah, it totally sucks...except...maybe it doesn't.

The Lateness of the Hour (M) - 12 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - "Brittany has much less to lose. She always has."

half of me (T) - 4 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - a run-in (quite literally) at the bookstore, two broadway tickets, and a seven-year-old in a plaid catholic-school uniform. what has rachel gotten herself into? future AU where quinn has beth and rachel makes it on broadway.

April Fools (T) - 10 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - Santana recruits - forces - Rachel to help her prank Quinn. All she has to do is pretend that a love potion has caused her to fall madly in love with the cheerleader. Simple, right? Wrong. Faberry.

Stars & the Moon (M) - 15 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - In the midst of dealing with Beth's adoption, Quinn ends up working on a summer community theatre production with Rachel. Hilarity ensues. Just kidding.

Love Me Any Less (M) - 25 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Junior year becomes the beginning of something no one expected, and maybe the beginning of something a few can't understand how they ever lived without. Starts mild but progresses to M rating. First fic ever! Faberry.

Better Where It’s Wetter (M) - 10 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - Rachel and her dads are going on a LGBT family-friendly cruise for the summer and Rachel's told she's can bring a friend. Who else to bring but Quinn?

Like a Seal Upon Your Heart (M) - 20 Chapters - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana? - Quinn Fabray is Daddy's little girl and the perfect Christian. She CAN'T be gay. But then her friendship with Rachel Berry starts to change...

Somewhere in Brooklyn (M) - 47 Chapters - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Santana and Brittany have been trying to get pregnant for a year without any luck. What happens when a teenage foster child and positive pregnancy test land in their laps on the same day? A unique journey of motherhood ensues.

Multi-chapter (incomplete/in progress):

Everyone's Gonna Know Now (T) - 8 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - 3/4 in series - When Santana confronted Finn about outing her, his response was, "The whole school already knows." That was pretty much true. This story is about the first moment or incident in which each member of Glee - and a few others - discovered Santana's secret.

Be Okay (M) - 2 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - “Kurt doesn’t know why he does it. It’s not as if he and Santana had ever had anything resembling a friendship, but he feels drawn to her, feels connected to the anguish in her voice as she realized that her biggest secret in the world was about to be revealed.“ This is the evolution of Kurt and Santana’s friendship taking place over a series of one-shots.

looks like a girl but she's a flame, so bright she can burn your eyes, better look the other way, you can try but you'll never forget her name (M) - 5 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - santana lopez writes down the story of her life for a reunion project set for the glee club by none other than rachel berry. aka, a deep dive into santana's life told through her eyes. very santana/brittana centric.

No One Left to Blame (M, read tags) - 30 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Quinn Fabray is well-versed in keeping the truths of her family and her past firmly hidden away. But, her efforts prove to be moot when Rachel Berry, armed with her own secrets of the past, arrives at Dalton Academy and manages to turn both their worlds upside down - or, perhaps, right way up. Faberry. Trigger Warnings.

I’m not breaking, I won’t take it (M, read warnings) - 2 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and minor Quinn/Santana - Santana gets up and starts toward her, “Jesus, what happened to you?” she mumbles, but she's softer than she was moment before. It's obvious that she’s concerned. Quinn chokes down a sob and then admits, “There’s something wrong with me.”“Hey, listen. Whatever it is, you’re going to be fine." Santana is still not getting it, but she’s rubbing soothing little circles on Quinn’s shoulders. There really must be something wrong with her too, because then Quinn is lunging forward and then she’s kissing Santana. Quinn feels her freeze, but then Santana relaxes and she’s kissing her back. or, a study in quinn fabray.

no love like your love (T) - 5 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana and Blaine/Sam - Following the death of her mother, Rachel Berry assumes guardianship of her six-year-old brother, Daniel. After a cross-country move for his sister's job, the first friend Danny makes is a soccer-playing, lucky fin having, firecracker of a girl named Beth.

Song of Mine (M) - 18 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Santana Lopez, the new Music teacher at a religious private school in Indianapolis, meets Brittany Pierce, the resident Math teacher. A love story with a happy ending. Promise.

Girls Over Flowers (NR) - 14 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, Brittany/Santana - Dalton Academy—a school of prestige, refinement and the country's wealthiest students—houses the famous F3. When "commoner" transfer student, Rachel Berry directly offends F3's leader, Quinn Fabray, she becomes their target. Mayhem ensues.

we were built to fall apart (then fall back together) (T) - 8 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - Rachel and Quinn haven't seen each other for seven years and neither thought they'd see the other again. They certainly didn't see themselves starring together in a Broadway musical, as each other's love interests.

A Different Life (E) - 33 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Brittany/Santana, Finn/Rachel and Kurt/Blaine - Canon!Divergent Brittana. Santana and Brittany move to New York after high school. Everything is going perfectly until Brittany gets a phone call that changes everything. Seven years later, Santana has a daughter and she and Britt haven't seen each other...Canon until 3x16ish. No Louisville, no second senior year.

you get too close you’ll get a royalty high (so breathe it in to feel the love) (T) - 9 Chapters (Incomplete) - Pairings: Brittany/Santana, Rachel/Quinn, Sam/Mercedes, Mike/Tina, Kitty/Artie and Kurt/Blaine - "Alright," she began uneasily. "I'll do it. I'll go to the dumb school."Her parent's smiles beaming back at her were almost enough to make her think this could possibly be a good idea, but the nerves surging in her stomach said otherwise. Boarding School/Royalty Brittana AU

One-shot:

Tattoo (T) - Oneshot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - "She soaks it in for a few seconds—this night, this place, these friends, this family room floor, this girl—before she says it back." Post-3x11. Brittana.

Eden (T) - Oneshot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Brittany and Santana teach Joe about love. 4K

Riding in Cars With Girls (M) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - After Quinn quit Glee club and joined a band Rachel feels the gap Quinn has left and sets out to get her back, whatever the cost. But what happens when Quinn's only condition involves her car and Rachel's lips on hers every day at five? Punk!Quinn

and things we’re all too young to know (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Five vignettes set after the point when Brittana become girlfriends. Not too many people would guess it, but Brittany knows that loving Santana is the easiest and best thing in the world to do; Santana is just the best person to love.

My Friends Say That I’m Falling In Love (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Brittany and Santana spend the week leading up to Valentine's Day giving Mercedes grief about her date. Brittana romance, Brittanacedes friendship. Mouseverse. One-shot.

And What Would You Say If I Wrote the Whole Thing Out for You? (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Some things have changed a lot since Sam left McKinley and some things haven’t really changed at all. Set circa 3x08.

The Landslide Brought Me Down (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Our girls’ story. Sweet lady kisses, Landslide, their separation, the night of Prom Queen, Songbird, Santana’s Abuela’s rejection, the night after Santana learned about the political ad, Brittany’s senior year falling apart, the lights of New York, and other scenes.

seven (GA) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - A companion piece to 'it's nice to have a friend'. Takes place after the first scene in the second chapter - can be read separately to 'it's nice to have a friend'. Basically just childhood fluff that examines their friendship and the items they connect to their friendship.

baby you don't gotta fight (i'll be here til the end of time) (GA) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - She sees red for all of last period, a strange twinge of pain in her chest because all these people think they know Santana but they’re all wrong. or: three times Brittany tells people they've got Santana all wrong and the one time she tells Santana

The Unicorn Tapestries (NR) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - We lie on our stomachs on my pale blue sheets, a book lying open in front of us that we bend our heads over, sunlight all over the page and bringing bits of gold out in your skin..

But You Could Sing (NR) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Why am I always the one who tells bedtime stories? Because your stories are prettier, BrittBritt. But you can tell real ones. Like what?

Colors (NR) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - The sunlight in my room shines from the south. The way I know: when I lean far out my window, the sun rises on the side where I can feel my heartbeat, and sets in the direction of my writing hand.

You’re Something Else (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - 'Quinn gets the impression she and Rachel are finally on the same page about what may or may not be happening between them. All she really knows is that it's colourful.'

Raising the Bar (M) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and minor/implied Brittany/Santana - Quinn never expected that the best matchmaker would turn out to be a lumpy pullout couch.

the one with the friends reference (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn, minor/implied Brittany/Santana and minor/implied Kurt/Blaine - "You can see it. Quinn standing in front of you, as close as she can get without touching you and saying, 'Are you attracted to me?'" Faberry. Post-season six.

Blame it on the Alcohol (or the gay, whatever) (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and minor/implied Brittany/Santana - “I can’t believe what you did to my body, I used to have abs!” - In which one sentence is totally incorrect and causes chaos and havoc and Faberry feelings to happen. Also known as drunk Rachel is kyoot and Finn is stoopid.

could you pass in love? (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - “'Quinn Fabray, I will divorce you, don’t think I won’t!'” In which Rachel and Quinn get married, sending them into a possibly out-of-character feelings frenzy . Season Three. Faberry.

Do You Wanna Know How This Story Plays Out? (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - It's not her fault that you feel the way you do about women, you know that, and you knew that then, too. But you've been angry at Rachel Berry for making you feel things you wanted to lock away for years, and it was far too easy to put all of the blame on her to avoid dealing with your own feelings. It wasn't and isn't fair, but it was about protecting yourself and it makes it a little easier to bear. - OR - After everything implodes with Finn, Quinn moves in with Rachel. They make out a lot without ever talking about how much more it means to both of them. Introspective Closeted!Quinn POV from second-person.

you succeed at being mine (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Kurt/Sam - Sequel to 'you and her loathing this cruel world'.

This Must Be The Place (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - Santana is eight years old when her Tio Carlos joins the Army. Or the less-cracky-than-you-might-expect Glee/The Losers crossover where Cougar is Santana's uncle. (If it tells you anything, i nearly titled this 'Ohana Means Family.')

This Modern Love (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Brittany/Santana - "How do you know when you're dating someone?"

Beth’s family tree (GA) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - "Now that being said, my family tree is composed by both my biological family and my adoptive family" Beth explains easily enough as she clicks the mouse. But then the next slide appears and the teacher gapes at all the information, names, colours and arrows in the diagram.

pictures of you, pictures of me (hung upon the wall, for the world to see) (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn and Brittany/Santana - "Quinn looked around her room again. She'd never noticed it before, but she had a lot of pictures of Rachel." or: a faberry oneshot set between seasons 1 and 2 where Quinn reflects on a series of moments with Rachel that led to where she is now

anything could happen (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - She stared down at the test in her hand. The line was faint, disappearing depending on the angle. It was possible she was just seeing things, but still. She pulled out her cell phone, tears running down her flushed cheeks. It felt like the earth could open up at any second, just swallow her whole. The line rang. Once, twice, she cursed quietly. She sucked in a breath as she heard a click signifying the call had connected."Hello? Rachel?" Her voice cracked. "Quinn. I need your help." A Faberry-centric rewrite of Rachel's season 4 pregnancy scare

Frannie’s View (T) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - When Frannie was a child she did everything she could to make her father happy. She was a daddy’s girl through and through. She was quiet and never disrespectful. She went to church every Sunday with her mother and father and prayed every night. Frannie had a lot of friends at school and was popular and well liked. She did very well in school though her participation grades were always low. Daddy told her women were supposed to be quiet and always treat their husbands with respect. She was a princess and he was the King. He ruled the house. Frannie absolutely hated the way her father treated her little sister. Frannie desperately tried to change Lucy. She thought if Lucy could be better then their father would be happier, nicer. OR A journey from Frannie's perspective of Lucy/Quinn and Quinn's sexuality and later feelings for Rachel.

According to Judy (PG) - One-shot - Pairings: Rachel/Quinn - How Judy Fabray deals with Quinn's infatuation with Rachel.

#brittana #faberry #fic rec #brittana fic #faberry fic

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

What if some Cullen stayed behind on a new moon to be with Bella? How do you think the story would have occurred?

They wouldn’t.

Remember, we see the series from Bella’s perspective. We get a front row view to her devastation at being left behind, her depression, and the fact that Bella is put into more danger because of it and ultimately the Cullens come back.

At the end of New Moon, the reader goes, “What was the point of this damn novel? Why even have them leave in the first place if they just come back?!” Well, it was to show that Edward and Bella can’t live without each other, introduce the wolves without the Cullens getting in the way, and start the Volturi plot threads.

Regardless, a lot of blame falls on the Cullens for daring to leave in the first place. Someone should have put their foot down and demanded to stay (several did but they ended up leaving anyway). However, from their perspective, I don’t think they necessarily made the wrong choice

Why The Cullens Had Good Reason to Leave in New Moon

They’d been living in the precarious world for months now where a human is in on the secret, really shouldn’t be in on the secret, just waiting for something to happen.

Edward plays human boyfriend, knowing that he’ll one day abandon her (he plans it, even, from the moment he first sneaks into her bedroom). He has no intention of turning her into a vampire.

Which means, for the rest of them, walking on eggshells trying and failing to think what happens next. Because this is not sustainable.

Eventually, the Cullens will need to move. It’ll be a while yet, Carlisle will probably spend another few years as a doctor in Forks while the “children” go to university somewhere. But eventually, one day, they will leave the area.

If Bella’s human, she’s not coming with them.

And if she does come with them... Bella will be this sole aging human living with immortal creatures. She can’t do the high school routine with Edward very long, would have to find her own thing to do while somehow still moving with this family, and it wouldn’t be sustainable. Bella would live a very miserable life that’s not all that different from if they had never killed James in Phoenix (on the run moving from city to city, protecting this secret from anyone who might ask, having to hide her relationship with Edward if they even manage to keep that alive).

It would be a miserable life and not good for her. Even Bella, the teenager who wants to be with them forever, sees that. She can’t stay with Edward and be human, if she’s joining the Cullens then she has to be turned.

Adding to this, hanging around Bella is very dangerous. There’s a reason their worlds are separate. Jasper might be the one who cracks first, but something was going to happen one of those days. That papercut could have very easily been Edward. Bella could accidentally scrape herself in front of a hungry Alice. Bella helping Esme in the kitchen might accidentally cut herself. Every time Bella spends any time in their vicinity, she’s playing Russian Roulette.

She just happens to lose at her own birthday party.

Jasper’s attack, and every single member of the family besides Carlisle having to vacate the house, is a wake up call that if Bella’s staying human then this isn’t going to work.

Leaving in New Moon is their last chance to give Bella a human life and future. Bella’s young, she’ll move on and make friends and live an ordinary life in the ordinary human world. I do think, for all of the Cullens, none of them realize the extent of her depression and she staked all her self-worth on the aliens who she only met a few months ago and who barely even know her.

And that’s important and I think people forget that, Bella barely knows these people and they know even less about her.

Bella spends her time hanging around Edward and maybe Alice.

She has had one conversation with Carlisle, the night he stitches her up no less, never seems to talk to Esme at all, barely even sees Jasper, Rosalie barely knows her, and for all Emmett thinks she’s hilarious that’s because she’s just Clumsy Human (TM).

None of them have any personal attachment to her.

Then you have Edward throwing a fit. Yes, Alice is adamantly against doing this, thinks it will be a disaster, but Edward’s the one they’re going to live with. More, Edward does have a point, this isn’t sustainable, Bella has no idea what she’s getting into, and if she can live a human life with her human family then she probably should.

Little did they know that they were leaving her to the mercy of Victoria and Laurent, relying on the protection of the shapeshifters who might unintentionally maul her at any moment, or that she’d become mired in depression and eventually attempt suicide.

Well, Alice knew, but her visions are also flighty things that while holding true for a moment don’t necessary hold true for years.

So, I can see why they leave, and why characters who are dubious about it are convinced to leave.

For what it’s worth, I also think they thought Edward’s breakup with Bella was an amenable thing where he logically told her why he was doing this.

Edward, remember, does not ask Rosalie or Emmett’s assistance in stealing the stereo out of Bella’s car. He didn’t tell them about stealing her photos and memorabilia and sticking it under the floorboards. Given Edward’s behavior in Midnight Sun, I’m sure he didn’t tell them that what he actually said to her was that she was a distraction and he’d gotten bored. Given that he had a very reasonable explanation to break up with her, I’m a vampire and you’re human and this isn’t working out, I’m sure they thought he was mature and reasonable about it.

He wasn’t.

Who Would Even Stay?

More, if anyone stayed, then you know Edward would be staying with them. Glaring at them constantly for ruining his leaving town plan. HOW DARE THEY.

And is Emmett really going to bail on Rose so he can hang out with Edward’s weird squishy girlfriend? Carlisle tell the family to go on ahead without him, he’ll catch up, while he sits there awkwardly with Bella and says “Sorry about all of this.” Rosalie, who loathes Bella, sticking around just to spite Edward. Esme staying with Bella and infuriating Edward and causing him pain (Edward’s Esme’s basically highest priority, she’d never do this). Jasper hanging around the girl he just tried to eat?

I’d say Alice is your best bet except... This isn’t the meta for it, but throughout the series it’s clear for all that Alice likes Bella, she likes Edward a lot more. Bella is nice, but Alice has her priorities in order and is more than okay with the significant odds of Bella dying horrifically if it means everything might work out the way she wants it to.

So, given that hanging around Bella would cause a rift with Edward, she’s not going to do it. Also, I’m sure the way she sees it, it’s best to get this out of the way now so that Edward learns his lesson.

And what would they even do then? If Carlisle’s family has moved then he can’t stick around town for long (maybe the premise is they moved on ahead of him to set up the house but that will only last so long). If it’s any of the “kids” they have to hide in the bushes all day as the family will have left them behind. If it’s Esme, why didn’t she go with her family and her kids to the new city?

So it’d just be them hanging around, doing nothing to... make Bella feel better? When it’s really Edward who she wants to see rather than rando Cullen she barely knows hanging out in her yard?

Basically, I can’t see a single one of them staying behind.

But if Someone Did Stay

Then, as I said, Edward would stay too.

And Edward would never forgive them for this. They would be dead to him, forever. I can imagine, in his upset rage and helplessness, Edward would say even worse things to Bella to make it clear the entire family should leave.

It’d be a shit show all around.

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azucanela · 4 years

Text

FIRST DATE HEADCANNONS + SCENARIOS

[FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI, TODOROKI SHOUTO SHINSOU HITOSHI]

SUMMARY: Your first date with a few some of the first year boys[Bakugo Katuski, Shinsou Hitoshi, Todoroki Shouto].

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: kissing, pretty pg, wholesome, perhaps slightly ooc oops, bad writing, just a tad of spice

A/N: someone send tik tok related requests they make me laugh

BAKUGO KATSUKI

when he asks you out on a date for the first time hes not actually asking

comes up to you and tells you, “get dressed im taking you out.”

you are just there talking to mina and kirishima in your pjs like ???

“with your quirk?” like you dead thought he was telling you he intended to kill you

“no idiot...” now he’s embarrassed oh no

mina and kirishima are like 👀👀

“on a date?” they’re really trying to help him get his point across bc playing matchmaker is fun

“SHUT UP EXTRAS”

probably takes you to like some sort of outdoor thing on the first date

has to to involve movement

stroll through the park, or through like a mall if you don’t like more athletic experiences

take him on a date to a trampoline park. do it.

COOKS FOR YOU ON THE FIRST DATE!!!!!!!!

ITS AMAZING

YOU HAVE BEEN BLESSED

is quieter during a date rather than his normal explosive self, he wants to listen to you, get to know you better

won’t kiss on the first date unless there’s a pre established friendship

your next date happens the same way, just tells you that you guys are going out, but you get it this time

lets you choose where you guys go that time

wants equal contribution to dates

katsuki in street clothes is just beautiful, just ART, a masterpiece, he looks like a grumpy piece of ART

Katuski had just asked Y/N on a date, completely out of nowhere. Katsuki had asked Y/N on a date. It was difficult to believe, and considering his loud tone, the rest of Class 1-A also found it shocking, the student who claimed to have all his focus on becoming the number one pro-hero was now seeking a relationship. Ironic.

Though Y/N herself initially didn’t understand what he had been trying to say, she quickly got the message, and off they went. She was necessarily shocked by his feelings for her, they had discussed it in the dead of night, when she couldn’t sleep so he decided to forgo his normal grandpa sleep schedule. He fell asleep shortly after that conversation though, in her arms, he’d likely deny it if she ever mentioned it though.

Now, she sat on the counter in his parent’s kitchen, though neither of them were home, and the kitchen looked mostly unused. Y/N had tried to assist him but he’d brushed her off, “I asked you out. And you’re a horrible cook.”

Y/N hopped off the counter and came up behind him, “whatever.” She mumbled, half expecting Katsuki to shove her away as she wrapped her arms around his torso as he sliced vegetables. He didn’t, though he did freeze momentarily before grumbling something about how dumb she was, Y/N knew he didn’t mean it based off the blush on his cheeks.

Katsuki placed the vegetables into a pot of boiling water, covering it with a lid before tapping Y/N’s hand, signaling for her to let go. When she did, he turned around, and Y/N’s brow was raised. “C’mere.” He pulled her closer with one hand, and placed another on the back of her necks, bringing their lips together.

She hummed in response, hand tangling into his hair, this wasn’t the first time they’d kissed. But it was the first time they’d gone on a date, he’d been sure to hide the dining room from her on the way inside, and she couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up inside her.

Y/N’s free hand found it’s way to his bicep, nails digging into his soft skin, courtesy of his quirk. Meanwhile, Katsuki’s hand found its way to the curve of her back, pushing her body closer to his only for Y/N to pull away, “pay attention while you are cooking.”

Turning to look at the pot, he’d realized that it was boiling far too much for comfort and cursed, releasing Y/N to salvage his food, she began to laugh. Katuski glared at her as he turned off the stove and put the put the vegetables into a nearby plate.

With a smile on her face, she pressed a kiss onto his cheek, only for him to roll his eyes as he picked up the plate and moved out of the kitchen, Y/N trailing close behind as he headed to the dining room. “Can I see now?” She asked.

After a moment of contemplation, he nodded, and together they entered the dining room. It was a basic set up for a date, but it certainly set an intimate atmosphere that was rare when you lived in a dorm with several other students, and Mineta. There were candles lighting the room, and a rose in the center of the table, along with more food that he had already placed on the table.

Grinning at him, Y/N spoke, “god you are such a sap.”

His cheeks flushed as he responded, “shut up.”

SHINSOU HITOSHI

lol cutie, he asks you out on a date, you two are probably close friends and he just really likes your personality and attitude and stuff

“you don’t have to- well you know that but-”

“no, i’ll go out with you.”

“it’s fine i understand- wait what?”

did not think he’d get this far so he had no plans, he was expecting to plan a funeral for your friendship

ends up being the basic movie and food date

he picks a horror movie because he wants to protect you!!!

it makes him feel useful and bb needs validation

hold his hand during the movie

give him AFFECTION

you guys end up skipping dinner because you filled up on popcorn and other snacks during the movie so y’all just walk around

gives you his j a c k e t if its cold

he’s classy like that

unlike other people, he would kiss you on the first date

it would be an AMAZING experience that probably occurs at your front door, super adorable, he asks if he can kiss you

“can i kiss you?” fully expects you to say no

“yeah you can.”

“its fine, thanks for going out with me- wait what?”

same vibes as asking you out, did NOT expect this

walks you home because he is a GENTLEMAN change my mind, Shinsou brought back chivalry 2020

treats you RIGHT!!! the entire date, opens doors for you, pulls out your chair if necessary, pays for you unless you try to split the check but he might propose if you do that and pay for you regardless

When Shinsou asked Y/N out, he genuinely expected her to say no. His plans for the date included a funeral for himself and the friendship between the two of them. But, Shinsou was an honest guy and wanted to confess his feelings to her, secrets were a rarity between them, and this was no exception. They’d known each other for a while and his feelings weren’t something he could make disappear, no matter how hard he tried.

The last thing he expected was for her to agree to go out with him.

She was still clinging onto his arm rather harshly as they exited the movie theater, having seen a horror movie, she exclaims, “I am never letting you pick the movie again.”

Shinsou can’t help it when his heart skips a beat at her comment, looking over to her as he smirks, “again? So there will be a next time?” He asked, hoping that he hadn’t misunderstood.

Her cheeks warm, even though he asked her out, and Y/N looks away, “yes, if you want.” She mumbled, loosening her grip on his arm as they stepped outside. Cool air hits her, and Y/N can’t help the shiver that goes down her spine at the sudden cold.

“I asked you out, of course I want a second date.” He replied, taking his arm from her grasp to remove his jacket, which he puts around her shoulders. “You still want dinner?”

Y/N hums, taking his hand in hers and grinning as his cheeks turn red, “I’m not really hungry after all the snacks we had.” She replied, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “Let’s just walk.”

They walked throughout the small shopping center, speaking with each other in regards to a variety of topics before beginning the walk home, when it started to rain. Thankfully, they were nearby Y/N’s home, and the laughs that consumed them as they ran didn’t stop as they ran up under the roof of Y/N’s porch. Shinsou’s hair was now matted onto his head thanks to the rain, their clothes soaked.

Looking up at him, Y/N let another laugh escape her, “I like your hair.” She teased, bringing a hand up to ruffle it, though it had little effect.

Shinsou playfully glared at her, “yeah, yeah.” A smile found its way onto his face as he looked at her, the rain still hammering down on the roof, he found himself not wanting to let go of her hand as he asked, “can I kiss you? You don’t need-” He began to ramble, and Y/N was reminded of when he first asked her out as she watched him.

Y/N’s hand released his and she grabbed his face, bringing his lips to hers, effectively silencing him as his hands fell onto her hips. They broke apart momentarily, only for Y/N’s arms to circle around his neck and pull him closer for yet another kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled as they pulled apart.

Tilting her head, Y/N smirked, “you’re cute.” Shinsou ducked his head to hide the pink in his cheeks at this comment. “Be here next Saturday around 2 in the afternoon. This time I pick the movie.”

Looking back up, he raised a brow. “I happened to enjoy the movie, particularly the parts when you-”

“I don’t have to agree to a second date.” Y/N threatened as she playfully slapped his shoulder before heading to her front door, looking back at him as she walked.

Shinsou hummed, eyes meeting hers as he grabbed her hand and yanked her back. “I think I liked the way you shut me up the first time around better.” He presses a gentle kiss to her lips before releasing her hand so that she can head inside.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

THIS BOY

you probably don’t know its a date he’s like “so how was the date”

and you there like “im sorry how was the WHAT?”

asks his siblings for help because he’s clueless, also asks izuku and maybe even bakugo during their remedial course, though camie is 10x more helpful

this is because shoto always spends all of his father’s money on you

while you two are just best friends, he’ll see you look at something and then he’ll just buy it

you guys already act like a couple. like stfu we get it, you have Class 1-A’s resident pretty boy wrapped around your finger jeez no need to brag

it because he’s in love with you already but he doesn’t know that its not his fault he is oblivious to his own emotions

this just amplifies on a date

tries to take you to a ridiculously fancy restaurant and you’re like???

settles for a cafe

you get lost in the convo and forget to actually drink your drink so he just reheats it or makes it nice and cool again ya know

super useful bb

give him validation

listens to you super intently

intellectual conversations EVERYWHERE he is literally so fun to talk to like discuss any and everything with him

First date at a cafe, he’s rich, he stole his dad’s credit card, and he happens to love trying new things since he was sheltered as a child so he will buy EVERY S I N G L E DRINK for you two to try them all together

50/50 chance he kisses you on the first date

100% chance a kiss happens if you initiate it

he walks you home, and depending on if you are feeling hot or cold, you’ll stand by his side, preferably away from the road because shoto is a gentleman who gets hit by cars for his partner

When Izuku had suggested that Shoto take Y/N out on a date to help confess his feelings for her, he figured it would be a good idea. Except, he forgot the part where he asked her on the date.

Oops.

This didn’t really dawn on him as she led him away from the fancy restaurant he had tried to convince her to enter, “we both know that neither of us would understand a thing on the menu because it’s probably all in french.” Though she had dressed for the occasion, and so had he. “Why do you even want to eat there?” Y/N asked, her hand still holding his as she dragged him along the side walk.

She knew very well how much he disliked such places. They reminded him of all the high end restaraunts he had been forced to go to as a child. And since his father was an infamous pro hero, and Shoto himself was one of the more popular Class 1-A students, it wasn’t uncommon for reporters to frequent areas he was seen in. Carrying their cameras as they tried to get a story about him or his father. He’d told Y/N numerous times how much he disliked the attention, which is why he avoided certain areas of the city.

Shoto stared at their joined hands, that feeling of joy bubbling in his chest, “my understanding is that you take people to a nice restaurant for a date.” Came his response.

Y/N stopped walking, though Shoto didn’t, causing him to run into her and nearly trip her had he not grabbed waist to keep her from falling. “This is a date?” She asked, hands clinging to his arms as she tried to maintain balance. He’d been acting different, so Y/N felt as though she shouldn’t be shocked, but the fact that Shoto liked her?

He said nothing, releasing her from his arms before taking a step back, “I feel as though I should apologize-” Shoto began, realizing his mistake.

“I know a nice Café I’ve been meaning to visit that’s nearby, you want to continue this there?” She interrupted, extending her hand. Y/N wasn’t stupid, neither was Shoto, she knew he was inexperienced in the romance department and it was clear this was his attempt to woo her.

It was cute.

Looking up at her, he couldn’t help but give her a small smile, which she returned as he took her hand. Shoto was thankful that she hadn’t mentioned his poor preparation for the whole ‘date’ thing, since he failed to really ask her about it. Thankfully she was just going with it, “I really like you, Y/N.” It was blunt, but it was the truth, and it was Shoto, being himself.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as they approached the Café, “I really like you too, Shoto.” He moved in front of her to open the door, “and here we are.” She gestured to the small Café as they entered, it was a nice set up and she had been meaning to visit. The fact that it was Shoto that she was visiting with made it all the better.

“Why don’t you go find us somewhere to sit?” He suggested, small smile on his face. “I’ll save us a spot in line.” Y/N nodded, and it was clear that she had yet to notice that there was no line, and Shoto had Endeavor’s beautiful black mastercard in hand.

Which is how they ended up with every possible drink on their table, some of which were going cold, and the cashier thanking Shoto for the $200 cash tip, laughing quietly side by side in their small corner within the Café. Y/N had chosen a more isolated part, though there were already very few people within the store.

She looked up from her drink to find Shoto’s eyes on her, an unreadable look in his eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile at him, one that he returned. “I like this.” He said, his hand finding hers as he played with her fingers.

“Me too.” Y/N replied, watching his movements. She found herself Y/N bringing her hand to Shoto’s cheek, and his eyes met hers momentarily, looking up at her in awe as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips.

Neither of them knew what they were doing, Shoto’s delayed reaction reminded them both of this fact as he finally kissed back after a few moments. The hand that had once been fidgeting with Y/N’s free hand, making its way to her bicep to rub circles in the spot.

The moment didn’t last long, and when she pulled away, his lips were chasing hers, “we should do this more often.”

A small smile was on his face as he stared at her with what seemed like stars in his eyes, “yeah.” He pressed a kiss to her hand, “we should.”

A/N: when i tell you season 4 made me CRY

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