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just-another-writer-cherry · 4 years

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Watermelon Sugar High

Type: imagine

Warning: Daddy kink, smut, oral sex, and just a rough fuck in general

A/N I really hope you guys enjoy this, Please like and reblog. Thank you so much for those of you who support me and my writing. THANK YOU SO MUCH

Y/N

“All right everyone, get in position!” Pablo one of the directors told us models

Tasha, Lia and I start walking towards the ocean to get ready for the scene. I met them this morning while we were getting ready, and The three of us just got really close in that short period of time.

“So are you guys excited to part of the video?” Ask Lia

“Eh, money is money and you do what you have to do to get it” I answer

“You sound like old whore lady” Tasha told me

The three of burst in a fit of laughter

“Not but seriously, have you seen how Harry has been gawking at you practically the whole time we’ve been here?!” Lia said

I stopped laughing, and rolled my eyes at her comment. Seriously like why would he ever, there is better girls out there to gawk at

“No there is-“ I’m not able to finish my sentence because Tasha interrupts me

“Girl stop, he has and you and I know it” she said and lia just nodded

“You know I shipped your baby’s would be fucking cute”

“She’s right Y/N , your baby’s would be adorable, with his curls and your tanned ski girl I’m death” Tasha added

“Shut up” was the only thing I said, as if they couldn’t get more annoying they started signing

“Y/N and Harry sitting on a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G!” Lia and Tasha were singing, awful signing may I add

But before they could continue their awful performance, I had to stopped them because at the corner of my eyes I spotted grinning Harry dressed in a floral bottom up with yellow shorts walking towards us

“Shut up you morons Harry walking towards us” I told them they stop signing and quickly came to stand beside

“Bet your fucking tonight” Tasha whisper in my ear, I blushed hard and a lot

I just gave her a death stare and right when I was gonna open my mouth to bite back a thick British voice interrupted me

Damn why isn’t anybody letting me talk today!

“Hello lady’s” Harry said

“Hi” the three of us said

Harry was about to speak but Tasha beats him do it

“Actually Lia and I have to go-um -watch the water” she said

Tasha pull Lia with her and started walking forward somewhere, she turn her head when she far enough from Harry and mouth me a “Tell me everything”

I only shake my head and turn my attention back to Harry

“so..” I said

“so..” he said

“what do I own the pleasure Mr.Styles?” I ask him

“Please, call me Harry, and I just wanted to tell you that smiles of yours drives me crazy”

“what?” I ask him confused

“I said that smiles of yours drives me crazy” He repeat again

“Thanks..” I said shyly, is he trying to flirt with me?..

He smiled back at me

“so are you excited for the video?” I ask him, I’m trying to keep this conversation as light and professional as possible

“Very, specially if a beauty like you will be in it” He said with a bit of smirk

I just blushed really hard, before I can speak he said

“Your blushing makes you look extra cute and hot”

My cheeks couldn’t help it and blushed once more, only this time I try to cover it but couldn’t. While I was embarrassed, all Harry did was laugh. Not a mean laugh but a kind laugh.

“Please stop saying those things, it’s very unprofessional” I said in shy tone voice

“Well, in my defense I’m not flirting, I’m just being extra friendly to my extra attractive friend” he said, giving me a flirty smirk at the end

We both laugh a little bit,

“Oh so I’m your friend now?” I said with a bit more confidence

“ Course you are, in fact a beauty like you should be cherish by everyone”

“god you and your compliments” I said shaking my head with a smile

“Well darling I shall get going but remember I’m wearing the smile you gave me” he said

afterwards he lean in and gave me a peck on my cheek near the corner of lips. then he whisper in my ear “Thank you for reminding me what butterflies feel like”

After that he just walk away towards the directors, I was just standing there in pure shock. I could not believe what just happened.

~~~~~~~~

Later on the same day

Y/N POV

We just finish wrapping up the first day of shooting, people are currently either packing everything up or heading to the hotel. We are all pretty exhausted, running around in the sand o a hot day takes a lot out of you. Instead of doing what everyone else is doing I decided to take a little get away and just enjoy the beach around.

I was sitting on the sand, my toes getting wet by the ocean water , eyes closed and enjoying the gently breeze. I was so calm and relax, I hadn’t realize I haven’t felt this way in so long. I was in my own world enjoying myself.

“Mind if I join?” Harry ask, scaring the pure shit out my soul

“Fucking hell, you scare the living daylights out of me” I told him

He laugh and sat down next to me.

Once he is seated next to me he says “Sorry for scaring ya”

“it’s okay” I assure him

We sit in silent for a moment, before I speak

“It’s beautiful isn’t it” I said, referring to the view

“Yeah you are” He said

I just look at him then back at the view. All the can be heard are the waves crashing, I’m calm and enjoying this. But not too long into that moment I feel a hand on my thigh.

Harry’s

I move mines on top of his, he moves a little closer to me and his hand a little higher on my thigh. My breath speeds up a little bit, I turn so now I’m facing him and he is facing me. He moves his face just a little bit closer to mine, just close enough so that the tip our noses are touching. We might not be in a room but I can guarantee you the temperature is rising.

“Y/N can I borrow a kiss?” He ask

“Are you gonna give it back?”

he mutter something I coudn’t understand, next thing you know his lips are on top of mine, he is kissing me and without a doubt I’m kissing him back. The kiss grows more intense and passionate.

He picks me up from the sand so I’m straddling his lab, he pulls me into him, make me seat right on top of his growing member. His tongue ask for entrance and I gladly allow. At first our tongues are figthing for dominance, but it slowly turns to a passionate dance where our tongues are just dancing. He is holding tight by my waist, the more we make out the more wet I get, the more hard Harry gets. He pulls back breathless and with a little of our saliva on his lips.

“Let’s go back to my room” he says licking his lips and I swear in the moment the wetness of my pussy when right through my panties.

To his statement I only my head

We get up from our spot and make our way to the car who was driving us to where Harry is currently staying.

~~~~~~~~

The whole car ride here was INTENSE. Harry was touching me then I was touching him, we were kissing, his tongue was exploring my mouth while mines was trying to do the same with him.

Once we arrived to his room, I’m immediately pushed to the wall by Harry, he comes closer and sensually whispers “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, I’ll make you feel it for days” he starts to kiss right below my ear , while I rapped my hands around his neck. we then start to kiss and he takes a hold of thighs from underneath. He carries me to the where he seats down with me on his lap. He goes to untied my bikini top, but I stop him.

“let’s take care of you first” I say in my most sensual voice

I start to unbutton his shirt, when I’m done unbuttoning his shirt, I take it off and throw it somewhere in the bedroom.I start to kiss around his neck while doing so I discover his sweet spot which makes him moan loud when I suck a hickey on it. Once I’m done with that hickey I give it a kitty lick and blow air on it. I go to kiss and leave more hickey’s on others spots of his neck, and chest area. I start to get on my knees and kiss lower and give him kitty licks. He releases a low “fuck” when sees I’m getting closer to the waistband of his shorts.

I stop what I’m doing to remove his shorts and his underwear at the same time. I see his big, thick, long hard cock come out, bits of pre-cum on the tip. I’m honestly kinda mesmerized by his cock, its really pretty. “it’s so pretty h” I tell him “t-th-anks” he says. I smile, cute. I take his cock in my hand and slowly start to stroking him up and down. He moans at my action, god his moans make me even wetter. With my other hand I play with his balls for a bit. “I-I li-ike w-wh-at you’-re doi-ng” he says “you like this, then your not ready for what comes next” I told him.

I take the hand that I was stroking his cock with and spit on it, i start to stroke him again. I’m so focus on what I’m doing I don’t even realize his moans are getting louder. I take the tip of his cock into my mouth but only like 1/3 of it, to tease him. I do that a couple of times, but I stop when he says “Fuck, stop being a fucking tease and suck on it already” with a dominance tone of voice “ok” I responded “ok what?” he ask “k, daddy” Shit, I look up at him, embarrassment written all over my face, “I’m sorry I-” I’m cut off by him “say it again” he told me to “Daddy” I said “that’s right be a good girl and suck on daddy’s cock” Which is exactly what I do.

I start to take him into my mouth, since he is gigantic I was only able to take maybe a little bit over half of it. the rest I did with my hand. Once he is in my mouth I take sometime to adjust to his size but soon enough I start to bob my head up and down his cock. At the same time doing this I run my tongue up and down plus giving him the most innocent look I can while having his cock in my mouth. “Uh- Fu-ck Yes!, K-ee-p go-in-g don’t Fuck! Stop!” He moans after that, and keeps moaning, each one louder than the last one. I’m pretty sure peple next door can hear us. I feel his hand slide through my hair, as in moving out of my face.

I keep sucking on his cock, harder this time. I also play with his balls to show them some loving, so they don’t feel left out. Harry seems to be on cloud nine, the way some of his baby hair stick to his sweaty forehead, how his eyes roll back and god his moans are like music to my ears. The way his chest is sweaty, how his hand hold onto the sheets of the bed, this is a sight to never be forgotten. While I’m still sucking, I can feel his cock twitch and that’s when I know he is close. I pull back from his cock, a string of saliva and cum following, “you gonna cum daddy? Please cum for me, want your cum daddy I’ve been a good girl for you” I said and go back to sucking after “Yes b-ba-by gir-l, su-ch Fuck! a good girl for your d-daddy” he says with moans in between “Yes! Yes! I’m cumming! F-uck go-gonna cum” and he does, he cums, I feel his cock twitch in my mouth before a warm liquid shoots out and down my throat. Harry lets out several moans in the process. after coming he falls on the bed, sweating and out of breath. I take his cock out my mouth, string of saliva following, I wipe the at the corner of my mouth with my the back of my hand and lick it. I go up to see and he looks fuck out.

“Hi daddy” I say, he is still trying to catch his breath, but when he does, he gets up enough to attached our lips together again. He hovers over me, still kissing me. I’m now laying on my back on the bed, his hands roaming my body. He his hands go behind my back to untied my bikini top, once he does he pulls it over my head and throws it somewhere on the the floor. He starts to kiss my neck. Soon enough he fines my sweet spot and starts to sucks a hickey “Fuck, daddy” I moan. His hand goes down to outline the waistband of my shorts.

He starts to kiss the between my breast, then starts to kiss and lick the top of my the top of my left breast. Goes to the middle of my breast and starts to lick down until he gets to my nipple. Once there he raps his whole mouth around and starts to suck on it roughly, as if milk would come out it. His tongue his swirling around it as well.”Fu-ck Da-ddy!”, after couple more seconds he stops sucking on my left boob ad goes to do the same to the other. He also suck hickeys on both of my boobs.

When he is done with my breast, he starts to kiss down my body and when gets to my shorts he rips them off me. He looks at my my clothes pussy, and licks his lips. “You’re really wet love, wonder who did this do you huh? This all for daddy?” He licks my pussy over my underwear, I only moan, to the I feel a harsh slap on my thigh, I moan again but this time louder. “that’s not a fucking answer, tell me who made you this wet or I won’t let you cum tonight” He is asking with a dominance tone of voice. “You did daddy, its all for you” I told him.

He rip my panties off after that, and spread my legs wide. with one finger he when rub up and down between my pussy lips. after doing so a couple times, he came and said “suck on it” and that’s exactly what I did, I suck on his fingers. “that’s right, be a good girl and get nice and wet fo’ me to use on your pretty cunt” he said and I moan on his fingers. He when back down between my legs and with two fingers I felt him spread my pussy lips and with the one I suck on he started to finger me while with his tongue he lick around my clit teasing it. not too long after he added another finger. His thrust with his fingers when faster, sloppier, and you could hear a slapping sound every time he when in and out my cunt. I was moaning like crazy, everything he was doing felt so good, almost too good to be true. Out of the fucking he started to suck harshly on my swollen clit, I could feel the his tongue play with it, you also could hear sucking noises.

Everything was happening so fast, “fuck daddy!”, I moan and kept moaning louder and louder. he was eating me out so good. I had tears at the corner of my eyes, I was about to cum. Daddy seem to notice this because just when I was about to cum he stop everything he was doing to my pussy. He came up from in between my legs to my face and said “You are not coming anywhere else besides daddy’s cock tonight little girl” with his deep british accent.

He then spread my legs out even more, he position himself at my entrance and with the tip of his dick he tease my pussy by going in between my pussy lips and around my entrance. He when to pin my arms down on the bed above my head. “C-condom daddy” I reminded him, what he said shock me “ Daddy’s fucking you raw tonight” He said “what if I get pregnant daddy?” I ask him “guess your having daddy’s baby and its no one business” I didn’t have time to answer before he kiss me.

Without any sort of warning he slam his big thick cock in my cunt. I moan against his mouth at the feeling of being full. His thrust were rough, and hard. His hips were going circular motions. The bed start to shake, harry move his hands from mind and took a hold of the headboard. H started going faster, and faster. But I want it more. “is t-hat oh all you got” I challenge him, “you want more huh” he said and suddenly his pulling out of me and flipping me on to my stomach. My face against the pillow, he lifted my butt in the air and when back in again. He was holding my waist with his hand while thrusting roughly in and out me. I let out a scream of pleasure and so does he. Every time he pushes in, I push back which he seems to like a lot. We are both a moaning mess, I’m either moaning or calling him daddy. He is constantly telling me, I’m his good girl and how tight I am. he is also choking me, not enough to stop my breathing but just to make it pleasurable. The headboard is hitting the wall and the bed is shaking.

He keeps fucking me, harder and a lot more rough than he started and that’s when I feel myself coming. “I’m- da-ddy- Fuck! *moan* Cum!” I manage to say, “you wanna cum don’t you? fucking cum for daddy” he orders me and I do I cum long and hard. “fuck I’m cumming too princess, gonna give you my seed” he cums too, only thing leaving our mouth are moans of pleasure. Once he is done cumming, he pulls out and falls on the bed next to me. We are both trying to catch our breath, fuck my lower body is too sore, I can’t even feel my legs, much more less my pussy.

I feel harry pull me towards him, I cuddle into him once I’m close enough. “go to sleep little girl, I know you’re tired” He says, petting my hair. “k, daddy” Is the only things I say before falling asleep on his chest.

~~~~~~~

Next Day

Y/N POV

After last night harry hasn’t left my side at all today, everyone is looking at us. I still can’t walk properly but I’m trying . Harry said he is taking me out on date which should be excited. Anyways we are currently seated at one the chairs in the hotels lobby. One thing is that everyone has been giving us teasing smiles, and has made a lot of sex reference comments towards us.

OMG what if they all heard us last night!

I go pale at the thought

“Y/N are you okay?” Harry ask

I was about to answer but I was interrupted by two very familiar voices

“so are you pregnant yet?” Lia ask

“We heart noises last night” Tasha said wiggling her eyebrows

“yeah *makes moaning noise*” Lia demonstrated

I blushed and told them “I- shut up you two”

“that’s what we should’ve told you guys last night, right guys?” Said Tasha

Everyone else around us just nodded and agree with Tasha

Harry turn pink and look away, I was just seated embarrassed that they heard us last night

Oh god what have I done...

********

I have no words, This was really interesting to write, fun fact I laugh at lot while writing the smut part of this for some weird reason... Anyways Thank you so much for reading

#harry styles masterlist #harry imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles watermelon sugar #harry styles smut #harry styles

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fredweesleyismyslut · 4 years

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Drag you down - Jhope x Curvy!reader

A/N: Okay, so I’m bringing some love to my baby, my sunshine, Jung Hoseok, aka Jhope which if you like BTS I assume you already know. Anywaysssss, he’s my bias wrecker and bitch he got me feeling some type of way whenever he’s dancing, especially when he’s teaching like he could literally punch me and I’d say thank you. Anyways, I just had the idea of writing a thing where the reader is dating him and they’re more on the curvy side so they start to doubt themselves being with Jhope because they feel like they don’t fit his idol image and that they’re kind of dragging him down. So, this sweet boy decides to have a little talk with you and shows you just how much he loves you. Also, as someone who has a little junk in my trunk, this idea just randomly popped up in my head. I really hope you guys like this, it’s my first time writing for kpop or a person in general who’s not a fictional character...so don’t judge me too hard I can’t promise I won’t cry. Love you guys always!!

Hoseok invited you to watch his photoshoot that he had to promote BTS’s new album. He had been ecstatic, excitedly talking about it till midnight while you were laying in bed, responding with quiet murmurs falling asleep to his voice. He waved over at you, doing a group shot with the rest of the members, the members catching you glance and waving also. Smiling softly you sent over a quick wave, before looking around the set at how hard working the producers were for making all the props and taking pictures. Next up were the single pictures, but just as that started a couple of girls walked in, clearly models as they had finished getting up from the makeup area. One of the girls smiled over at you, there wasn’t any animosity in the smile, however, you felt the hairs stand up on your arms as she walked over to Hoseok. Doing the single shots, you watched as the two posed together, their rhythm perfectly matching the others, the girl quietly giggling at whatever joke Hoseok had just made. “Hey y/n, what’s got you so deep in thought?” asked a male voice to your side, turning you saw Namjoon, the leader of the group but also your best friend. He was always so calm and methodical that you felt as if he could read your movements, “Nothing...just I’m proud of you guys. The fans are really going to love this album.” you said, smiling over to reach his hand. His smiled back giving a reassuring squeeze as he replied, “Thanks, I really hope so...I-I..” “Hey, shush...as a fellow army myself I am speaking for all fans when I say they will absolutely love this album, Joon.” His lips quirked into a smile as he gave a side hug, before getting called over by the makeup unni who wanted to fix his base makeup before sending him back into the shoot. Hoseok smiled and gave the girl a soft bow as a way of thank you before walking over to you, “Didn’t I do great, jagi?” he asked, head quirking to the side like a puppy. “Yes, you did amazing, babe. I almost fell for you all over again.” His cheeks flushed softly at your compliment as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. A female voice sounded from behind you, “Oppa, here’s a drink. You did great!” the girl from earlier said as she handed him a coffee, “Thanks, Minji. You did great too!” he said, ruffling her hair. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the soft touch that he had given her, she looked prettier than you and definitely skinnier compared to your more curvy figure. You weren’t really the jealous type and had always been on the more confident side of things, you liked your curvy figure especially with Hoseok’s encouragement, but as you went public with your relationship your self-image had become more critical due to worrying how fans would see you. Especially during one incident when a fan had commented after you first went public, “How is Hoseok with that pig? I mean how does she not crush him lol?” that comment, no matter how childish it had been had engraved deeply into your brain. Hands fumbling slightly you smiled at the girl, giving a soft bow of your head as she handed you a drink too, “You’re so pretty unni.” she said in awe as she admired your figure, “Maybe you should’ve been modeling with Hoseok oppa instead of me.” Hoseok’s chest seemed to swell with pride as he kissed your cheek, “I would love to have her model with me but she’s too shy.” he crowed, with a slight pout to his lips, “Maybe for our next photoshoot…” Chuckling softly, you swatted his arms, “Stop trying to flatter me, Seok. I see right through you.” The girl had started to walk away, going back to her task of handing drinks out to the other members, “You know I just want to show everyone that this is mine…” he whispered in your ear, voice growing husky as he placed his hands on your hips. “Not here. We’re in front of all your members, Hoseok.” you chided, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Pouting he gave you a look that clearly said, “Later” as he walked back over to his members to get his makeup fixed as well. You watched them do the finishing touches of the photoshoot before you were whisked away by your friend, Haeun, who happened to also work at the company. “You didn’t tell me you were visiting.” she said, betrayal hinting her voice jokingly, as she swatted your arm, “So, you were just gonna see your boyfriend and not even say hi to me huh?” Swatting her arm back, you replied, “Neverrrr...I was going to wait till they were done. You know how Hoseok gets when I leave in the middle after promising to watch his shoot.” “I’m gonna have a talk with him about stealing my best friend.” she announced to you, sending a soft glare in his direction, “Hey, how about I get us lunch and in return you don’t make my boyfriend cry. You know how you’re kinda scary sometimes.” Haeun looked at you with innocence in her brown eyes, “Me? Scary? Never.” Laughing you linked arms as she walked you down to a restaurant nearby that sold kimbap and tteokboki as a quick snack/lunch. Sending a quick text to your boyfriend once you were sat down, he probably wouldn’t see it till later but you still wanted to let him know where you were. You looked up at her, as she ordered the food, once done she looked towards you, “Am I forgetting anything?” Shaking your head, she nodded finishing the order, “I have a question.” you started, as she looked at your head softly quirking, silently telling you to continue, “Do you know the girl that was modeling with Hoseok?” “Oh...I don’t know about her much. She’s a young model, Minji right?” Nodding, as she continued, “I know she’s from Hoseok’s hometown but other than that she’s still pretty new but slowly gaining public interest.” You nodded softly, getting lost in your thoughts until a hand suddenly hit the top of your head softly, “Don’t think about her too much. I already know what you’re thinking, ‘God, she’s so pretty and skinny. Hoseok’s image would look so much with her than me.” Her features softened as she grabbed your hand, “You’re gorgeous and I mean...your body like damn bitch, excuse my language but you could turn me gay here and now with a snap of your fingers. Also do you not see how whipped Hoseok is for you? I’m sure if you asked him to buy you a star and name it after you he would in the snap of a second.” Flushing at her words you replied, “But..” Cutting you off she scolded, “No buts. Next time you even start doubting yourself I’m really gonna get mad and you’re the one who said that I was scary.” she softly glared at you as she organized the food on the table. You shut your mouth, remembering the last time you doubted yourself being with Hoseok and she scolded you while organizing a small party for you where she had organized a bunch of pictures of you to hang around your apartment as Hoseok serenaded you. The party was embarrassing but also fun, definitely something you didn’t want to experience again, however, especially not Haeun’s wrath. “Now, eat up before their photoshoot ends. I haven’t had time alone with you in like days.” After finishing up, you headed home with Hoseok and the boys, they dropped by your apartment as you helped Jin fix them a meal. Once they left, Hoseok helped wash the dishes although it was more like he was washing you from the amount of water that had splashed you from his playful antics that you had returned. Clothes both almost soaked once you were done, Hoseok wrapped his arms around you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.” he spoke softly as if he was afraid to break the silence, “I missed you too.”

The next several days, you started to become more reclusive, it was more subconsciously than intentionally, but you would start to make up reasons as to why you couldn’t meet up with Hoseok and the boys, by saying you were busy at work or hanging out with friends. You just felt that if you weren’t in the picture Hoseok could definitely get a prettier girl who fits his image better as an idol than someone like you. A couple days after the photoshoot you heard the doorbell ringing, “Who is it?” you called out heading to the door. Looking through the hole you saw Hoseok who was looking sullen and hurt. Opening the door you were about to speak before he cut you off, “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, eyes looking to yours, inspecting your features, “You’ve been avoiding me…” “Hoseok, it’s nothing I just…” “Is there another person?” he asked, suddenly as his eyes filled with tears at the corners slightly, piercing your heart even more at his hurt expression. “Jagi, of course not, you know I only have eyes for my sunshine. I-I just feel like you’d be happier with someone else…” Hoseok’s features perked at your words, “What do you mean I’d be happier with someone else? I’ve never been happier in my whole life and that’s because of you y/n.” His features softened, “I knew you looked weird after that photoshoot with Minji. You know she’s right...I’d love to have you in our photoshoots sometime.” Flushing, you punched his shoulder softly, “Did you want to come in?” you asked, as he nodded in response. Pulling you towards your couch Hoseok patted the cushion next to him, “You’re gorgeous you know that right? I don’t care if I’m an idol, even though we have thousands of fans, I still only have eyes for you, y/n.” his hand squeezed yours, silently asking for a response. “I know, it’s just you’re so famous and I’m just...yknow me. If I wasn’t dating you I’d be a nobody. People wouldn’t even know who I was I’d just be a random girl on the street.” avoiding his eyes, you continued, “Compared to Minji, I’m not that pretty, I mean some of your fans clearly agree and so do the news reports.” Hoseok placed two fingers gently on your chin, tilting your head up, placing a kiss on your lips he replied, “I don’t care what the fans say about you, I love you and if they don’t understand that then they weren’t real fans to begin with. The real fans are the ones who are happy for me that I’ve found someone I love.” His features brightened slightly, “You know I posted about you yesterday because I was missing you…” he confessed shyly, “And your kind of trending.” Shocked by his statement your lips fluttered slightly, “What?” “You haven’t looked at your socials all day, huh?” he questioned, pulling his phone from his pocket. Showing his twitter to you, you saw all the retweets and posts about you, some of the responses from fans included, “Omg why’d nobody tell me Jhope was dating a literal goddess?! Have you guys seen her? She’s got curves for days!” “Damn, here I thought I was straight because I liked 7 boys, but now….Jhope give me your girl’s number?” “Please make her a model Bighit!! She deserves to be in one of the boys’ photoshoots.” “When are the photocards of her coming out, I’m waiting BIghit put her in your next girlgroup.” Sitting in awe at all the comments, you looked up at him, “Y/n, they love you just as much as I do. You’re the only one who couldn’t see it, I don’t care if there are models like Minji, because you’re the only one I see.” His eyes started to wander the rest of your body, “I mean, I love you as much as I love your body...maybe it’s time I show you, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” he said, his voice grew deeper as his eyes seemed to glaze over with lust as his lips placed onto yours hungrily as if he couldn’t get enough, “Come on...we’ve got a long night ahead of us if I’m gonna show you just how much I love you.”

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uwua3 · 4 years

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hi! first off, congrats on the new blog!! i read that misumi piece and i really enjoyed it hehe,, if it's alright, may i request some domestic fluff with kazunari? mayb looking over old photo albums of each other from when they were kids and laughing and telling stories about what happened in the photos? thank you very much and i hope u have a nice day :D

hi!!! this made me so happy 🥺 thank you so much, i hope to keep this blog running for a long time! also, i saw your reblog of my jealousy hcs and i wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments!!! i go back to it whenever i need motivation, you inspire me to keep writing ♡ thank you! i hope to continue making you proud as a writer :D <3

summary: kazunari had to stop living in the past and make new memories outside of his yearbooks with you

author’s note: this is definitely a much happier piece than my others! this was refreshing to write and i treasure it dearly, it’s definitely much more on the humorous side! no angst today, folks!!! (ok just a little, but it’s barely noticeable!)

this is just a little look into a hoarder named kazunari and his sentimental, nostalgic personality ♡ i, myself, am a marie kondo supporter so i love decluttering! if you are a hoarder like kazunari, honestly go you! you keep those knick knacks that remind you of memories! do whatever makes you the happiest :D

word count: 2,151

music: make you mine – public, tongue tied – grouplove (this song is so Kazunari !!!)

nostalgia.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was that time of year again

kazunari hated spring cleaning with a passion. so what if his art supplies were all over the dorms? he knew where everything was! uh, mostly...

(if you ignore his daily panicked house searches which kept everyone up way too late if he couldn’t locate a very specific paint shade for a big project he definitely procrastinated)

so, it took, so much bribery to get kazunari to even consider cleaning out his entire dorm room

(muku was a very Good Boy and already had his side of the room perfectly dusted and organized)

yes, you had to promise to pose as a model for one of his paintings one day (hopefully, not the type of class you were thinking) (kazunari’s suggestive wink didn’t help)

the thing about kazunari was he was somewhat of a, putting it politely, hoarder

as an extremely sentimental person, it would take the whole mankai company to even force him to throw something away

(“no! it has a special meaning to me! i remember what happened when i got this~” kazunari would whine, holding the useless item between his hands with no intentions to ever look at it again)

so the boys employed you to be kazunari’s rational judgement when cleaning that day

(“please actually make him do something.” sakyo looked like he was on the border of begging; kazunari’s abundance of random knick knacks and shopaholic addiction problem was becoming an issue that affected everyone)

rule #1 of cleaning kazunari’s storage room: don’t open anything because kazunari will become very sentimental and nothing will get gone

so therefore, as a team, you two tackled the rather spotless room. the interior was minimal and modern, just like kazunari liked it with pops of color here and there

(he had one blank white wall and you realized it was the backdrop he used to film all his social media posts [dancing tik toks, fashion #ootds on instagram, daily vlogs on his growing youtube channel])

at first, you were confused where all his stuff went until you opened a closet against his terrible and unconvincing distractions

without time to react, you found yourself buried in tens of books you couldn’t even fathom how it all fit

(“i’ve played way too much tetris.” kazunari would admit later on when asked about his immaculate stacking)

“you’ve got to be kidding me!” you groaned, pushing your head above the surface of book covers that have either never been opened or were way too old to even be functionable

“i’m sorry~ please, forgive me!” kazunari pleaded, immediately pulling you out of his own mess and using all his cuteness to make you roll your eyes fondly at your best friend

you almost started ranting at him about the dangers of taking up too much closet space with useless items before you realized:

wait! stop! he’s trying to get you to forget about throwing these books out! you thought suddenly, crossing your arms as you stared at the pile, trying to figure out how to approach the situation

“you cannot distract me. we are going through this mound and you will be getting rid of something today.” you ordered, seeing his shoulders drop in defeat as he nodded solemnly, but accepting his fate without any arguments. thank god for that

you two bent down and organized all the books into categories. popular photography instruction guides, creative advice columns, and all his past art textbooks kazunari couldn’t sell were put into a seperate group because luckily, they were relevant to his art school

things like old newspapers with funny comics were recycled (you refused to let kazunari read them in fear of invoking some form of nostalgia) (also because he had the whackiest sense of humor ever and would die laughing)

it was going well, until you reached the thickest photo books of them all (you had almost forgotten what you and kazunari’s school mascot was)

but unsurprisingly, kazunari had every single yearbook from each year of his education all the way until his last year in high school piled high to his chest

even he looked somewhat shocked from his mass accumulation from his teen years

“ah! i’m so old now~ look at all this! what else can i do except die?!” kazunari dramatically flopped onto his bed, tired of lifting so much weight. hey! his arms weren’t meant for exercise, he was a painter!

lifting his head to see you were distracted from alphabetically sorting the first section lovingly dubbed, “art shit”, kazunari mischeviously grinned as he leaned down to snatch a random yearbook

flipping to a random page, kazunari smiled as he realized it was the first time he ever met you back in elementary

kazunari sang your name as he sat upwards, having a shit–eating look on his face as he started swinging his legs back and forth

oh no, he was up to something no good, you knew it but humored him anyways

“yes, kazu?” you turned your line of sight to the most horrible picture possible: you with the ugliest haircut in the entire world with kazunari’s black hair taking up the entire photo as you two sheepishly smiled for the camera. it was not a proud moment

okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, you just couldn’t help but shriek at the sight of your hair

“oh my god! you can’t just jumpscare me like that!” you laughed despite yourself. you knew you had to be serious and focused on decluttering, but one look at your past made you remember all the good times before so–called “adulthood”

“look at your hair!” you cackled, reaching up to playfully yank at his mullet as he yelped and lightly smacked your hand away. rubbing the back of his neck, kazunari huffed childishly and pouted like he was back in his youth

“come on! this was the pinnacle moment i realized, i should not be a hair dresser.” kazunari commented, making you remember how you just let a random 8–year–old boy waddle up to you with safety scissors and advertise his salon business like a professional

(yes, you bought into it right away. your teacher had a heart attack when she saw you with a majority of your hair on the floor and kazunari keeping small talk like an actual hair stylist)

thinking back after the haircut incident, you weren’t allowed to chat with the funny class clown anymore as you were forced to wear a hat every day

(it was either that or go completely bald to fix the job kazunari did to your head)

it wasn’t until you received a very creative and colorful apology letter with tons of sad faces drawn with waxy crayons that you snuck out to play with him on the swings in recess

“i can’t believe we became friends because i wanted free hair cuts for the rest of my life.” you added, staring at the picture with a sense of nostalgia. you kinda got where kazunari was coming from, memories were fun to look at every once and a while

at least, eleven years worth of memories after being inseperable from that moment forward

(maybe, you should’ve held onto it, you thought, not knowing that would be the first of many art pieces you would be gifted by him)

kazunari knew he won. excited, he dropped down to lay on his stomach as you leaned against the bed, watching as he thumbed through the pages with ease, leaning his head on yours comfortably

it was rare to find kazunari quiet, he must’ve been like this all the time when going through his stuff, you thought, at peace for once

lazily smiling, kazunari put his finger against your yearbook pictures as he reminisced on the past. something about everyone ever in your grade, how kazunari knew everyone and had a special memory with each person, no matter how big or small

“—and here, the teacher somehow caught a pic of us swinging wayyy too high for kids our age!” kazunari laughed, breaking your train of thought as you snickered at the absolute joy radiating from both your faces as you two competed to see who could reach the clouds

(kazu won. you fell off right after and had to get picked up from your parents after badly scraping your knee. it took another sorry letter and art of you two holding hands with a heart for your parents to forgive kazunari)

“let’s go back.” you interrupted him, making him sit up confused as you swung your keys out from your back pocket. it didn’t take any convincing for kazunari to nod right away and took the elementary yearbook into his arm

you two only had to exchange a secret look before formulating a plan to sneak out, leaving music on from kazunari’s speakers to act like kazunari was still cleaning

you two giggled amongst yourselves before clambering into your car, speeding off and laughing loudly from your successful getaway. the manager was none the wiser!

during the short car ride, you and kazunari played your favorite mixtape of all time

(“you kept this?!” kazunari yelled, giddily bouncing up and down from excitement when he discovered the mixtape stash)

he slipped the disc in as you two yelled along to childhood favorites with the windows rolled down, letting the entire neighborhood know the best duo were back in town

(seriously, there were so many you stashed away in your glove department. all labeled in sharpie with compelling titles connected to the inside jokes only you two found funny)

arriving at the destination, you two exited the vehicle to see the play pen was abandoned as the teaching staff went home for the day

the sun was setting and it felt like the playground was in another rift of time as you approached it, hearing the weak movement of the swings going back and forth on their own. you sat down, holding onto the chains. you hadn’t been back ever since you graduated. it hadn’t changed at all

kazunari opened the elementary yearbook back to the original page, pulling out his tripod and phone he always had on hand in his backpack as he set it up right across the swing set

“what are you doing?” you inquired, tilting your head as he fumbled around pressing different buttons and filters too complex for you to remember

looking up, kazunari grinned as he set a timer for 10 seconds before sprinting back to the swing next to you

“swing contest right now! i bet i could swing higher than you ever could!” kazunari challenged childishly, quickly kicking his legs for the momentum. you narrowed your eyes, refusing to lose as you two laughed over the sound of his phone taking a burst of photos

you realized what he was doing. he was re–creating your memories together

but you turned to look at him and your heart skipped a beat. you never remembered him looking this, different, in the purple lighting. for a flashing moment, you swore you saw the silhoutte of his black–haired, child self sit next to you before you blinked and saw him. kazunari was the same, just older now

you slowed down your swing by dragging your sneakers against the wood chipped ground. you grabbed both the swings’ chains to hold them together

you didn’t want to live in the past anymore. you wanted to grow up with him, too

“what—” kazunari started, matching your pace before being cut off by your lips against his, the phone going off for one last time

you pulled yourself in close enough just to smile. he smelled the exact same as he did when he discovered cologne for the first time. he never changed

you pulled away first even if he tried leaning forward for more, like he was waiting all these years just for that one moment. like he saw you in the same light, too

“i wanted to do that for years.” you confessed, watching as he took your hand carefully, like he was afraid you were going to leave. for once, he didn’t know what to do, which face to show

“me too...” kazunari agreed, seemingly speechless before straightening his back, like he was about to run away. the hair on your neck stood up, what was he about to do?

“i promise i won’t cut your hair anymore, unless?” kazunari winked dramatically, mimicking the shape of scissors with his fingers as he tried snipping at your hair

he laughed as you shoved him with all your might, hopping off the swing to chase him throughout the school parking lot

now this was a memory kazunari would never throw away, no matter what

(no one thought the two of you escaped until kazunari posted the pics on his instagram, both of you getting a scolding from sakyo this time)

(busted!)

#miyoshi kazunari #kazunari miyoshi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #a3 kazunari

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Take a Chance - Ch 1 First Meetings

Summary: Lukanette college AU. It all starts with a little mix-up. One look in her notebook and Luka is intrigued. One look in her eyes - and he’s in love.

This story came from the prompts for the first week of Lukanette September 2019. I was still pretty new to posting my stories and I wasn’t confident committing to the whole month but I figured, I could manage a week!

This story is complete on AO3

Marinette didn’t get a lot of phone calls, and she never got calls in the middle of the day. She stumbled a bit as she tried to get her phone out and walk at the same time. The number on the screen wasn’t a known contact, but it looked familiar. Wasn’t that Juleka’s number? But then why wouldn’t it show up under Juleka’s name? Frowning, she answered the call, trying not to sound too breathless. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi, I’m looking for Marinette?” The voice was male, so, definitely not Juleka.

“I’m Marinette,” she said cautiously.

“Cool, I’m Luka, I’m Juleka’s brother? I think we might have met once a few months back.”

“O-oh,” Marinette stammered, confused.

“Jules gave me your number because I have something of yours and I’m kinda hoping you have something of mine. A plain black notebook that basically looks exactly like yours, except mine has music inside instead of clothes. Sound familiar?”

“Oh gosh—um, hang on, let me check.” Marinette dug through her bag and pulled out her sketchbook. She flipped it open and her stomach dropped as she found that it wasn’t hers at all. It was full of music notations and scribbled notes that might have been song lyrics. “Yes, I have it,” she confirmed. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz. You live with Juleka right? I was over there this morning and I knocked over a stack of things and I thought I put it all back but I must have switched these. I hope you didn’t need it, I’m so sorry—“

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Luka said, soothingly, a touch of amusement in his warm voice. “As long as you have it, that’s fine. I do kind of need it tonight though, is there somewhere I can meet you and trade?”

“Um, let me think. I’m on my way to class now...it’s Tuesday, so my next break is at 3.”

“Okay, I’m in class until 3:30, but I could meet you right after? Um...there’s a coffee shop near the music building, do you know it? I can’t remember the name, but it has a red awning. I can meet you there after my class is over.”

“That sounds perfect,” Marinette agreed. “I know the place, I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.” Luka seemed to hesitate. “Okay, I hope this isn’t weird, but I was wondering if I could look at some more of your sketches? I only saw a few before I realized it wasn’t mine and found your name, but they looked really cool and I’m really curious to see the rest.”

Maybe it was a little weird, but it was also flattering. Marinette appreciated that he asked instead of just snooping through and not mentioning it. “Um, sure, there’s nothing really personal in it, just designs for one of my classes.”

“All art is personal,” Luka said easily, and then she heard someone calling to him. “Shit, you’re right,” he said, voice a bit distant before returning. “Marinette, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go before I’m late. I’ll see you a little after 3:30.”

“Okay, see you then,” Marinette replied, half expecting him to hang up before she finished speaking.

Instead she heard, “See you soon, Marinette,” before the line cut out.

***

Luka headed to the coffee shop with a quicker step than strictly necessary after escaping yet another boring, pedantic lecture from his least favorite professor. He hadn’t even heard half of it, fascinated by the book in his hand. He knew less than nothing about fashion in general and even less than that about the process of design, but there was so much life in the sketches covering the pages of the misplaced notebook. He couldn’t judge her talent, but Marinette’s passion was clear and he was curious about the girl behind the designs.

He found her easily enough, sitting in a booth facing the cafe’s entrance, his composition book placed prominently towards the edge of the table. For a moment, he felt disappointment. He wasn’t sure what he expected, and there was nothing wrong with her exactly, but...she didn’t really stand out, dressed in shades of pink and black, sweet but without any of the edge he’d seen in her art.

But it wasn’t like him to judge on appearances and he silently berated himself as he made his way over to the table. “Marinette?”

Then she looked up and locked eyes with him, and the deep blue of the sea fell into the endless blue of the sky and he swore he heard music.

***

Marinette had met Juleka’s brother once before, if you could call a hurried introduction and hello-goodbye a meeting, as he was rushing out to perform with his band. All she was really left with was the impression of blue, and lean muscles highlighted by body glitter.

She could see neither muscle nor glitter at the moment, but the blue was there, in his eyes and the tips of his shaggy hair. He wasn’t classically handsome but he had an interesting face, and she thought to herself that she’d like to dress him. It would be a nice change from cookie cutter models and he looked like he had a fun style.

He smiled and gestured at the empty bench across from her. “I’m Luka. May I?”

“Oh sure, of course,” she said quickly, shuffling her things ineffectually before realizing there was plenty of room. He slid in across from her, sleepy eyes a deeper shade of blue than her own fixed on her. She blushed faintly without really knowing why and his eyes flicked away.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he said. “I hope It wasn’t too far out of your way.”

“No, it wasn’t too far, and I’ve gotten some work done, so it’s all good. I’m so sorry about the mixup.”

He took her book out of his bag and slid it across the table towards her. “Thanks for letting me look at it. Way more interesting than my music theory class.”

“Oh,” Marinette blushed deeper. “A-are you interested in fashion?”

“No,” he admitted. “Honestly I never thought about it much, I just wear things that are comfortable and make me feel good. But I am interested in art, and I can see now that fashion is art too. So, thanks. For...a new perspective, I guess.”

Marinette couldn’t help smiling, there was something so sincere about the way he said it. He must have a really interesting way of looking at the world.

Which maybe shouldn’t surprise her so much. Juleka was hardly known for conventional thinking.

“I wish I could get as much from yours,” Marinette said, gesturing towards his notebook where it still lay on the table. “Not—not that I looked through it or anything, but just what I saw when I opened it, It’s only gibberish to me, I’m afraid.”

Luka smiled slowly. “You think so?” For a moment Marinette was afraid she’d insulted him, but he only took his notebook up and turned the pages for a moment. Then he laid it back down and turned it so she could see the open pages. “What do you see here?”

She looked, and at first it was only gibberish, as she’d said, a mix of notes and musical terms, with occasional notes that made sense but didn’t, like “dark, flash flood, drowning.” Marinette glanced up at Luka, who was watching her with a small smile on his face. She looked down at the page again, and this time she noticed the dark lines and deep grooves, the places where things were not just crossed out, but scratched through or scribbled black. The whole feel of the page was frustration, maybe even anger. “This,” she said slowly, looking up at him. “This was not a good day.”

Luka’s smile widened. “See? You can’t read the notes, but the feelings still come through. I felt the same way about yours.” Marinette slid the notebook back to him, smiling herself. “Can I ask you something?” Luka asked. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.” He gestured to her notebook again and she handed it back to him. He thumbed quickly through the pages until he found the one he wanted. He put it back down in front of her, watching her face. “What happened?”

The page was scribbled over with thick black marker lines, zigzagging across the dress that had been coming to life on the page. Beneath the thick scribbles, there were notes written around the sketch, some scratched out and some visibly messier than others. Marinette winced looking at it. “It couldn’t do what I wanted to,” she said, after staring at it for a moment. “It was...the dress wasn’t right for the concept, or the concept couldn’t be a dress at all, and the more I tried to fix it the more frustrated I got. Then my TA reviewed my work for the week and ripped me a new one over it, and...I just knew I wasn’t ever going to be excited over it again, so I scrapped it.”

She felt ashamed as she said it, like she was admitting she was a quitter, but Luka just nodded, as if she made perfect sense, then reached over and turned a couple of pages.

“Not that my opinion’s worth much, but this one was my favorite. It just has so much energy. It feels...hopeful. Like it’s waiting for great things to happen.” He glanced up at her, looking uncertain for the first time in their conversation. “I hope that came out right. I’m not always great at explaining things.”

Marinette just stared at him in wonder, a bright smile slowly spreading over her face. “No, I think you got exactly what I was thinking. It’s a first date dress, I mean, that’s what I was thinking when I made it.”

Luka nodded slowly. “Potential.”

Marinette beamed. “Yes, exactly.” She leaned on the table and put her chin on her fist, looking at him with renewed curiosity. He looked back for a minute, and then straightened abruptly.

“I think I’m going to get a drink, would you like anything?” Luka said, sliding from the booth.

Marinette blinked. “Um, yeah, that would be great. A cinnamon latte?”

“Got it. Be right back.”

Marinette sat back as he walked away.

He seemed nice.

***

Do you believe in love at first sight?

He’d heard the question many times before, usually from people trying to pick him up after performances, but until now he’d been largely agnostic on the matter. It could happen, but I’ve never seen it.

Luka was a thorough believer now.

Of course he knew the term coup de foudre but he’d never known it was so...accurate. He’d never experienced a shock to his system like the one he’d felt when he locked eyes with Marinette.

They were supposed to just exchange books and go on their way. He was bad at small talk, he knew it, but jumping into such an intimate conversation hadn’t been his intention either. He fervently hoped he wasn’t scaring her off. He knew his natural intensity could be off putting when he was too focused on a single person, and right now he was very, very focused on Marinette.

Luka ordered the drinks in to go cups, just in case.

When he returned with the drinks he felt a bit better. Marinette looked more comfortable and relaxed, and made no move to flee once he set her drink in front of her.

When he was back in his seat, Marinette surprised him, asking, “So, um, is music your major or just a hobby?”

“Music Ed, actually,” Luka replied, wrapping his long fingers around his cup.

“Really? You want to be a teacher?”

Luka chuckled. “I’d like to be a musician and not starve. Honestly, I’d like to give private lessons so I can work one on one with the kids and still work on my own music.”

“I remember you play in a band,” Marinette said.

“Yeah, we’re playing this weekend actually.” Luka rummaged in his bag for the stack of fliers, grateful for the opening. He pulled one out and handed it to Marinette. “I’d love for you to come.” Her eyes met his again and he felt that same shock run through his system. He wondered if she felt it too.

He flexed his fingers, wishing for his guitar.

#quickspins #take a chance #backlog #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #miraculousladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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zanesgirlfriend · 5 years

Text

Number Neighbors | Jeff Wittek

Idea by me, but requested by everyone who liked my post about it.

dedicated to my baby @daviddoughbrik because I love when she texts me constantly

_____

You'd never really been into social media, being too busy to have a social life, let alone a Twitter account, but your little sister kept you up to date. You didn't get to see eachother very often, but you would call eachother once a week. Even if what your sister said made no sense, it was always a relief just to see her smiling face.

"What's the tea this week?" You smiled into the phone. "Did I use that right?"

"Yes, kinda." Your bubbly sister smiled back. "It's been a trend to text your number neighbors, and I texted mine, and some old lady texted back and yelled at me." She laughed as she rambled.

"What's a number neighbor?"

"It's your phone number but like plus or minus the end digit, so like, mine was. . ." She explained, you laughed, and then continued talking for an hour before she had to go.

You went about your night, watching some Netflix show before deciding to go to bed. You thought about your sister and how much you missed her. She was back home in New York, and you were across the country performing in Vegas. It was hard work, and you were doing what you love, but it sucked not being able to see her all the time. Thinking of her reminded you of the whole number neighbors thing and you decided to try it out. You didn't think anyone would answer, but it seemed fun and it was worth a try.

You sent a simple "hey number neighbor!" to the two numbers above and below yours, and then drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you woke up in a panic, you'd missed your alarm and were late for rehearsal. You quickly grabbed your phone, not even having time to look at it, and ran out of the door. You changed clothes in the car and apologized as you walked into the rehearsal area thirty minutes late.

It wasn't until dinner time that you really had time to look at your phone. One of your number neighbors had texted you back.

Hey

A simple 'hey' was all they said.

How was your day?

You went with some cliche questions, wondering if they would text back again.

Good, wby?

They texted back instantly. You wondered if they still lived in New York, or maybe somewhere else.

It was okay, do you live in New York?

Not anymore, you?

You learned that his name was Jeff, he's two years older than you, he lived in LA (only a short flight from you), and you grew up around the corner from eachother. His favorite type of soup is tomato, and he uses Old Spice body wash. Texting brought out a lot of different conversations than the phone did.

You stayed up a little later than you should've texting him, but he promised to text you in the morning.

In LA, Jeff had been smiling all night. Y/n was funny and new, and he wanted to know everything about her. She was a breath of fresh air from his friends and his life, and he couldn't get enough.

"Who are you texting?" Todd asked Jeff, peering over his shoulder.

"Just some girl." Jeff played it off, wanting to keep y/n his secret for a while.

"Ooh, is she cute?"

"Yeah, she's hot." Jeff played along.

"Do I know her?"

"Probably not." Lucky for Jeff, David called Todd over, distracting him from their conversation.

Good morning!

You smiled at Jeff's text before replying. Seeing his name on your phone made you so happy for no reason. You've never had anyone to talk to like this, and you couldn't be more grateful. The two of you texted all day. And night. And the next day. And the next night.

For two straight weeks you texted constantly. You shared very intimate secrets with eachother. Things you've never told anyone. You also knew all the stupid things about eachother. Pet peeves, favorite colors, turn ons, turn offs. Stories about friends, your parents names, you even knew about his ex girlfriend.

I wanna see you.

His text scared you. There was something wonderful about the animosity of it all. You weren't pressured to look good, you weren't self conscious, you weren't worried about anything physical.

Can we start with a phone call?

Taking it slow was nice. Obviously you had a crush on him, but it felt so real and so fake. You loved him for his personality, but you had no idea what he looked like. You were scared to find out. What if he was horribly ugly? Not that looks were everything, but you'd have to be physically attracted to him at least a little bit for it to get anywhere. Jeff was thinking the same things, and agreed that a phone call would be a good next step.

I'm scared. What if my laugh is too ugly and you never talk to me again?

Who says I'm gonna make you laugh?

Jeff, your texts make me laugh until I pee a little bit, I know talking will be the same way.

If you say so.

He agreed to press the call button. You would get too in your head and never end up pressing it.

You were cross legged on your bed. You looked like a twelve year old girl waiting for her crush to call. Your ringtone blared and you stared at your phone. By the time you answered he'd almost gone to voicemail.

Both of you were silent for a minute.

"Are you as nervous as I am?" His New York accent soothed your ears. He sounded like home.

"Yeah, I almost didn't answer." You let out a sigh of relief. Once you started talking, your conversation didn't stop.

"I thought you'd have an accent." You could practically hear him smirking.

"I didn't think you'd have one." Your words were slow and gentle. You didn't wanna push any boundaries. You were afraid to curse, even though you'd cursed like a sailor in text.

"You sound very pretty." He flirted with you, making you blush. You were very thankful it was just a voice call and he couldn't see how red you were.

"Thank you."

You talked for three hours before you fell asleep. Apparently Jeff fell asleep too, because when you woke up, the call was still going.

"Jeff?" Your voice was groggy, but at this point you didn't care. He didn't answer right away, and you were about to end the call when he spoke.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" His voice was deep and gruff, a little chuckle coming through the phone.

"Do I really? That's so embarrassing." You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, trying to remember what you dreamed about.

"You were talking about me." Jeff smiled in his bed, staring at your name and the ever-growing time of the phone call.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

"No, it was sweet."

"What did I say?"

"You said 'you're probably really cute' and you kept whisperin' my name. It woke me up like three times."

"I mean, you sound like you're really cute, so I'm not wrong." You pulled your phone off the charger before bringing Jeff with you too the bathroom. "I have to shower, so I gotta go."

"No, we already slept together, you can shower in front of me." His joke made you burst out laughing. "And you thought your laugh was ugly, huh?"

"Okay, okay, I really have to go, Jeff." You noticed yourself in the mirror, smiling like a doofus. "I'll call you tonight?"

"Not if I call you first."

You texted all day once again, and he called you as soon as you said you were home.

"I missed your beautiful voice."

"I missed your sexy accent."

The events of the previous night repeated, this time with more flirting.

It became a cycle. You would talk all night, fall asleep together, wake up and talk about your dreams and his snoring and then you'd text all day until you could do it again. He became your first priority, only delaying or skipping a phone call when you talked to your sister or he had to do something with his friends.

After a few weeks you felt ready to know what he looked like. Your phone was facing the ceiling as you hit the FaceTime button. He answered the call, his phone also facing the ceiling.

"We gonna do a three, two, one, go kinda thing or one at a time, or what?" He chuckled. Suddenly your nerves were all lighting up at once. The curiosity was killing you.

"What if we go slowly? Like our hair first and then our eyes and yeah?" You suggested. Your hair was in a bun, and you weren't wearing makeup, but you wanted him to see you for you.

"I like that idea."

You picked up your phone slowly, peeking the top of your head into the frame. His hair was incredible. He had the type of hair you see in shampoo commercials. It was brown and floppy and slightly styled. "Even your hair is attractive, wow."

"Your messy bun is incredible." He took in every detail of your hair. "Eyes?"

"Okay." The two of you stared at your phones, staring at eachothers foreheads as your eyes slowly came into frame. His eyebrows were bushy yet manicured, and his beautiful brown eyes were so bright. You could see the attraction he saw in you as he took in your long lashes and your sparkling eyes.

"You look exactly as I pictured you so far." As he laughed his eyes scrunched up and you started to see his cheeks.

"You look so much better than I pictured you." You laughed as well, your eyes squinting. "Okay, noses." Jeff's nose was slightly big, and a bit crooked, but it was handsome nonetheless. He seemed like a manly man, and you were very into it. The more he showed of his high cheekbones and his nose, the more you started to see his moustache and the edges of a beard. "You have a beard?"

"Yeah, I'm a gorilla." His cheeks perked up as he smiled at you. Your nose was much smaller than his. "You have such a cute nose."

"Thank you."

"Let me see the rest of your beautiful face." He demanded and you obliged, showing him the whole of your face. "Wow."

"Wow." You were both stunned. The beard suited him. Jeff was hot. Like, male model hot.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, y/n." His lips mesmerized you to the point where you barely heard what he said.

"What?" You were suddenly out of breath. This beautiful man was falling in love with you.

"I was pretty sure before I saw you, but now I'm really sure. I'm falling in love with you. Your beautiful face. Your beautiful personality. All of it. The way you don't mute yourself when you pee, the way you laugh, they way you're smiling at me right now. All of it. Everythin' about you." His words squeezed her heart, a heavy warm feeling filling her chest.

"I'm falling in love with you too, Jeff Wittek."

You FaceTimed every night for a month.

"Hey." Jeff's handsome face filled your screen, except this time he wasn't in his apartment, he was walking somewhere.

"Where are you?" You asked, hearing voices in the background. You started to wonder if his friends knew about you.

"I'm getting on a plane." He smiled.

"Ooh, where are you going?" You knew about his job now. You'd laughed at his own videos while on FaceTime with him just a week prior, and you knew his friend David tended to take him on spontaneous trips to Chicago or New York.

"Guess." He said, a playful tone very obvious in his voice.

"Um, New York." You smiled at him.

"Nope."

"Chicago?" You were more uncertain this time.

"Wrong again."

"Just tell me, I suck at guessing." You pouted at him, your eyes noticing his friend Todd in the background.

"Vegas." His smile widened as he saw your shocked expression.

"Really?" You almost started to cry.

"I'll be at your door in a few hours."

"Is this really happening?" You asked.

"Do you wanna pinch yourself?" He chuckled.

"No, I just have to clean my entire apartment and put on makeup and find my cute underwear and-"

"Cute underwear?" He asked, that smirked you loved so much tugging at his lips.

"Damn right." You laughed.

"Okay, you can do that, but you don't have to put on makeup if you don't want to."

Your were crawling out of your skin for three hours, frantically running around your apartment as you made everything perfect for Jeff. You had your best underwear on, ready for him to rip it off. You didn't know if you were gonna have sex, but you wanted to be prepared. You were wearing some random shorts and a large shirt, minimal makeup on.

You were afraid you might wear holes in the floor from pacing so hard, but you couldn't help it.

You refreshed his location constantly. He was getting closer to you every minute.

You froze in your tracks when he knocked on your door. Life didn't feel real as you opened the door.

"Hey, could I crash here tonight?" Jeff asked. He was even more beautiful in person, he was also taller than you thought. You ran into his arms, his bag falling to the ground as he enveloped you in his arms. He smelled amazing. His grip was tight as he squeezed you.

"Hey."

He wouldn't let you go and you didn't want him to. You hugged for a good three minutes before finally dragging him inside.

"I can't believe you're real, or that you're here."

"I can't believe how beautiful you are." His eyes scanned your body before landing on your face. "Come 'ere." His hands holding your waist, bringing you in. Your eyes locked as your faces drew closer together. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you focused on the feeling of his touch. His hands on your waist, his lips on your lips, your fingers in his hair and on his jaw and in his beard. You couldn't get enough of him.

"I have a question for you." He pulled away gently, your eyes opening.

"Okay." You muttered, still stunned by him. His hands dragged up your body and cupped your face.

"Will you officially be my girlfriend?" His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. You nodded, smiling as you leaned in to kiss him again.

"I feel like I'm dreaming." You smiled, pulling away once again.

You showed him around your apartment, putting his stuff in your room. You cuddled and talked for a while before you finally got to show him that special underwear.

_____

Read the smut HERE

Read part two HERE

Read part three HERE

#vlog squad #davids vlogs #david dobrik #jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek imagines #jeff wittek smut #jeff wittek blurb #david's vlogs #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad imagines #toddy smith #todd smith #david dobrik blurb #david dobrik imagines #david dobrik imagine

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lil-demi-boy · 4 years

Note

[BOOP] You've been BOOP'd! Gush about your 5 newest f/o's and your 5 oldest f/o's and pass the BOOP to 5 other self shippers!

Oh wow 10 whole gushes, I’ll go ahead n put this under a read more

I don’t fully remember who I’ve added in what order, but I know Jaime, Haemon, Ross, and Tybalt are new, and though I’ve had Hizashi for a while, I wanna talk about him too

So CL and I have made some more recent stuff about Jaime and Dan, like their first kiss being accidental- Like they trip into each other and make contact, but once they realize what just happened, they’re both v flustered and blooshy and require a good 5 minutes to calm down Though when they do finally kiss for realsies, it’s rly soft and sweet ;v; The slow burn is to die for n I love it

Haemon’s backstory has been expanded too! We figured he’d be from a rich family, though he’d have the type of parents who would get him what he wanted so he’d stay out of their hair. Unfortunately this gave him a complex, so now he tends to throw a fit when he doesn’t get what he wants, especially if he wants someone to date him- so that was fun to work out

As for Ross, he was originally called Chris P. by me n CL but then I was in the Eddsworld Patreon AMA (I got to talk to the real Bing and Matt and I’m still giddy abt it-) they said that Chris is actually named and modeled after a friend of theirs named Ross, so that character is just called Ross. I like his skeleton arm and taste in chicken.

Tybalt was one of my first islanders in Animal Crossing New Horizons! He and Tabby were so sweet to me when I first arrived, and though I don’t usually go for the jock types, Tybalt was always just so sweet and encouraging to me, I couldn’t help but fall in love with him ;v;

And Hizashi (aka Present Mic) has been on my list for a while, but I saw a comic of him recently that just made me fall deeper for him and really think about a relationship with him. He’s a DJ and clearly likes music, and music is one of my hyperfixations, so we would just be able to geek out about our favorite songs and make each other mixtapes and playlists and such,, he goode

As for oldest, if I can remember correctly, I believe they’re TP Link, Danny Fenton, Manny Rivera, Randy Cunningham, and N

Twilight Princess Link occupied my head rent free for years when I was younger- I’d take the TP guide book to school and read it over and over again, getting every bit of lore that I could from it, I’d draw Link all over the place, my proudest drawing at the time being when I tried to draw him in a certain pose from the book (and it impressed everyone around me, which was a Great Feeling). Nowadays I just admire him and am thankful for his existence

Danny Fenton was one that my mom would tease me about bc it was very obvious I had it bad for him when I was a kid. To the point I watched it any time it was on and wound up watching every episode without having to look them up- I just watched them when they came on and happened to catch them all (I also don’t get the hate for Phantom Planet like,,, they turned Earth invisible, that’s badass) Now I ship with him in an AU where he aged with me, so he’s 31 at this point. I’m still working on the AU though so I don’t have a lot of details in it aside from the fact that it’s a crossover AU with the rest of the Secret Trio + Manny from El Tigre

Speaking of which, Manny was another favorite of mine as a kid- I loved watching the show and drawing him and looking up cool AMVs n such once I got access to the internet. I always thought he and Frieda would be fun to be friends and hang out with Now in the Secret Trio AU, he’s 27, and although he does have a super hero alter ego, he’s not part of the team. Mostly because his identity isn’t a secret; everyone knows he’s El Tigre

Randy Cunningham was a later edition due to his show not coming out until 2012. Even then, I was so excited for it- I was fresh in an Invader Zim phase and I heard that Jhonen Vasquez did the character designs n such for the show, so ofc I had to watch it. And I loved it; Ben Schwartz’s voice and the stupid stuff Randy does and says just made me fall for him p much instantly. He’s probably one of the characters I drew the most ship art of at the time, now that I think about it In the current AU, he’s my age, 22 (I legit was stoked to be in the 9th grade at the same time as him, granted my school didn’t have a Tim Curry demon underneath it or a ninja to protect it but y’know) so he’s the youngest of the trio

And N I admittedly didn’t do a lot with when I was younger, I just kinda held on to him over the years. He’s really genuine and sweet though, and going on those ferris wheel rides with him in Black was something I dreamt of often =u=

Well this was super long- if you made it this far, thank you for reading all of that cause lord knows you didn’t have to

#thank you so much for the ask!!!#i don't usually get to gush like this ;u;#zombie [jaime]#[haemon]#[ross]#[tybalt]#talk too much [hizashi]#legend of steel [link]#[danny]#[manny]#go big or go home [randy]#run with the hunted [n]#Anonymous

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and POV surveys

- Inspo tag

- Playlist

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”

Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)

“You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.”

- Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)

“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.

“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”

“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.

It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.

“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.

“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.

“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”

“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”

“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”

“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”

“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.

“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”

“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”

“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.

As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.

“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.

“How far are we even going?”

“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.

“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”

“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.

“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.

“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”

“Don’t.”

He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.

“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.

“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.

“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”

“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”

“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”

“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”

“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.

“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”

“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”

“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.

“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”

“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”

“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”

I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.

“How about you and Myles?”

“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.

“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.

“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”

“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.

“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.

“Becks.”

“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.

“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.

“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”

“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”

“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”

Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.

“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.

“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.

If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.

The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.

“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”

“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.

I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.

“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.

“I thought you said no water.”

“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.

Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.

“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.

“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.

“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.

“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”

“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.

I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.

“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.

“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”

“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.

“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.

“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.

“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.

Girl, how dumb are you?

Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.

“Yeah, the eighteenth.”

“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.

“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”

“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”

“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.

“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.

From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.

Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.

“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”

“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.

“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.

“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”

“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”

“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”

“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”

Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.

“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”

“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.

“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.

“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”

“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”

“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.

“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.

“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”

“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”

“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.

“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”

“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”

“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”

“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.

“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”

“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”

“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.

“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”

“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.

“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.

The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.

One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.

“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.

“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.

“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.

“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”

“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”

“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.

“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”

“Time Force, for sure.”

“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.

“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.

“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.

“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.

“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.

“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”

“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.

“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.

“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”

“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”

He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.

“Maybe get something you both like.”

“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.

I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”

“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.

“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”

“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”

“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.

“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”

“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”

“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”

“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”

“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.

He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”

“Same, just necessities.”

“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.

“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”

“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.

“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”

“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.

“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”

“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.

“Good boy.”

He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.

“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”

Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.

“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.

“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”

“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”

“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.

“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.

It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.

As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.

The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.

I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.

“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”

Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”

Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.

“You’re always good with the surprises, aren’t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”

“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”

“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.

“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”

“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”

“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.

“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”

“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”

“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.

“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.

“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”

“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.

“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”

“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”

“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.

We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.

“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.

My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?

I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.

I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.

Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”

His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.

“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.

“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”

Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.

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emily-strange · 5 years

Text

Growing Pains...

So here it is. The first chapter of my RDR2 Story. I can’t believe I’m doing this….please be kind? But also really happy for constructive criticism! Bit of a long one to start, just to get it all going.

Any advice on Titles? I’m terrible with them!!

Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.

Pairing: None yet, eventual Micah x female OC.

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual themes, Minor mention of blood (they’re outlaws after all).

Chapter 1

God it’s good to have Sean back. I know how much he pisses everyone off, but that guy has been my partner in crime since before I can remember. My life lacked a lotta fun before he found himself with us. He’s like my weird, Irish, little brother…. who’s older than me. And hooks up with my favourite aunt/sister/best girl-friend. Yeah, this family is one screwed up party.

“Whatta you writin’ there?” John asks before almost collapsing on me, “You know there’s a party goin’ on right?”. I look around and in fact only see Uncle, the Reverend and Susan still up, chatting around a table scattered with bottle.

“Yes, I’m well aware” I say rolling my eyes. I close my journal before he can catch a glimpse. He’s always trying to.

“You’ve spent way too much time with Arthur” he slurs before taking another swig of whiskey and handing the bottle to me. I take a glug like it’s water. Hell, been drinking the stuff since I was young enough to only have water.

“I like the writin’ thing. Gives me a way to complain about ya without getting in trouble from Hosea”.

John takes the bottle and clutches his chest like he’s been shot, “Cruel, just cruel. I came all the way here from that tree to check on ya” he laughs and points to a tree only a few steps away, “….you were on ma stop before Abiga..”, I can’t help but interrupt him.

“No, John! You’re drunk. You’ll do more damage than good. You haven’t fought in days. Why ruin that!?”. I know I sound shrill but my God, he’s exhausting sometimes!

“Cauz. I’m horn…….nevermind.” he quickly takes another glug of his drink and avoids eye contact until I’m pretty much staring him down, face to face. Idiot boy. I can’t believe that after Jack I’m the youngest.

He finally meets my eyes, “Alright! God damn, I’ll goda bed! Jeesus. From now on ya Emmy Morgan not….ya know…..whatever” he says while slumping down, clearly fed up of being scolded like a child. I hate having to be his brain sometimes. But if I didn’t think for him, he’d of never come home. It was one of my best days riding back into camp after getting him from the station. It was hard but he’s my brother. Blood or not.

I kiss his cheek and hug him around his shoulders.

“Go to bed John,” I mumble into his shoulder “it’ll all look better in the mornin’”. I pull back and he nods before getting up on shaky, drunken legs.

“Yeah, yeah. Night little sister. Just. Please do me a favor?”. I tilt my head to signal him to continue, “Don’t just write about ya life like Arthur. Live it. Ya young.”. He pats my head clumsily and I smile. I quite like drunk John. More often than not he talks more sense than sober John.

I watch him stumble towards his own tent. I can just about see him collapse onto his cot and after a few moments, when I’m sure he won’t stumble back out of it into Abigail’s, waking her and Jack, I turn back to the fire and my journal.

Lord this gang. This family. I’d be lost without them but sometimes feel smothered by them. Dutch hasn’t let me leave the camp once since we got here. Too worried about Pinkertons and O’Driscoll’s. I should be grateful that he wants to act as my pa when mine was so shite, but he isn’t my pa. And I’m not the child I once was. Hosea sees it, John sees it, Arthur….well, Arthur begrudgingly sees it but he sees it nonetheless. Maybe if I get Arthur on side?

I slam my journal with an incredibly audible huff, “Why do I have to get anyone on side. I’m 18 God dammit, nearly 19! Abigail had Jack at my age”. A voice cuts through my quiet and has me jumping out of my skin.

“I wouldn’t model yourself on Miss Roberts if I were you,” Micah comes into view in front of me. Taking a seat on the other side of the fire, “A bit of a ‘loose’ cannon if you follow my meanin’”.

He’s not got his coat on and he’s wearing that red shirt he loves so much. Sleeves rolled up. Why the heck do I keep looking at his arms? His hat’s sat as always on top of his blonde mop of hair.

“Micah” I greet. Somewhat curtly, not that I was meaning to. Still catching my breath from his shock arrival. “I didn’t hear you.”.

He laughs deeply at that and opens his arms in a wide gesture, “It’s a skill sweetheart”. I hate it when he calls me that. I don’t like what it does to me. And it ruins the sweetness of it that Arthur has when he calls me it. But I know asking him to stop will only encourage him more so I keep quiet.

“So”, I whistle out the word, “how much of that did you hear?”. I take a chance and look up at him, only to regret it. He’s sporting that shit-eating grin of his.

“Well, I heard you play mother to scar face aaaand then mutter to ya self about not bein’ a child….bit childish though aint it? Talkin’ to ya self I mean”, Micah huffs a laugh at his own joke and takes a hearty swig of the bottle he’s holding. He holds it out to me and stupidly, I accept.

“Teasing other people about their private thoughts Mr Bell. Also a bit ‘childish’ aint it?”, I finish the bottle and put it down by the log I’m leaning against. I watch him as he pretends to ponder.

“Maybe.” Is the only answer he gives. Well this was well and truly pointless.

We look at each other for a few moments. I hate that smug look on his face! So why can’t I look away?

Thankfully he breaks the silence before it gets too awkward.

“Dutch been keepin’ ya on a short leash?” he asks while throwing twigs into the flames. I’m almost stunned at how normally he asks the question. No mirth or venom. I catch myself smiling, hopefully just before he notices. I clear my throat.

“Um, yeah. He has. He’s worried. But I used to do quite a lot outta camp before, well, ya know”, he nods along with my words “It’s kinda suffocating here sometimes”. I feel guilt wash over me at admitting my plight to another person. Some people would give their right leg to be coddled like this. To be kept safe in camp away from the evils that stalk us. Micah breaks me out of my own thoughts.

“Don’t do that” he says. I look up at him but he’s still staring at the fire. When I don’t reply, only look quizzically at him he continues. “Don’t feel bad for wantin’ more. For wantin’ to do somethin’ other than sew and scrub shit off people’s shoes. Guilt. It’s pointless. A useless emotion. Used by weaker people to keep the better ones down.”.

“You don’t actually believe that right? Guilt. It….the feeling means you’re human….that you care about other people.”, he looks at me then. Dead in the eyes. Unblinking.

“Well then sweetheart. I guess I’m not human”.

What can I possibly say to that?

I clear my throat again and take a moment to ruminate on what he’s just said. I break the eye contact but I can tell he’s still looking at me.

“That’s not true Mr Bell. You’re human. I’ve seen you bleed like the rest of ‘em. Patched you up a bit too if you remember.”. I think briefly of a time before Blackwater, when he came back to camp after a run in with the O’Driscolls’. He’d been slashed on the side by a knife. Nothing too bad but my word did it bleed. I gave him the stiches myself. Been doing that for a long time now. Everyone thought it best to get another person in the know of how to do the basic stuff.

He’d come back into camp clutching his side and shoved everyone away. Saying he could do it himself. Grabbed the needle and thread before dropping the flaps of his tent and getting to work. Everyone let him. I mean, wouldn’t you? In the months he’d been running with us he hadn’t been kind to pretty much anyone. I’d kept my distance. Arthur asked me to and, well he’s my big brother so. But when I walked past Micah’s tent, and I heard him whimper like a dying rabbit. I couldn’t just head to bed.

“Mr Bell?” I called gently, “Mr Bell?”.

I received a strained “what!?” in return. I’ve never really been one to scare easily. Maybe this was my own little version of playing with fire. But I just walked right into his tent. No asking, no preamble. Just, walked right in.

He was sat on his cot, shirtless. He was using his black shirt to try and stem the bleeding and despite the dark colour, I could see it become drenched in crimson. He looked at me, breathless and pale.

“What the hell do ya think ya doin’?!” he said. He wasn’t shouting. Probably felt too weak for that. His mouth hung open and he was almost panting. Sweat beading on his forehead and chest.

Despite my very best efforts, my eyes were drawn to his chest. It looked, firm? Firm and rippled with patches of light hair. Scars were scattered on his chest and stomach but his arms were basically intact. I was pulled from my thoughts by his gruff voice. “Girl!?” he spat as sternly as his condition would muster.

I gathered myself quickly and rushed to his side, kneeling on the floor.

“I’m gonna help you Mr Bell whether you want me to or not so for this once, just hush. I won’t tell anyone that you let me help you and once you’re sewn up I’m gone.”. As I hurried my words out, I took the needle and thread from beside him on the cot. I figured if I did it quickly enough he’d be too slow in this state to refuse. I threaded the needle easily and gently pushed on his chest to move him back a bit. He was warm and clammy under my palms but it wasn’t lost on me that this was my first time touching the chest of a man who wasn’t what I considered ‘family’.

Micah had grunted but stayed quiet. I could feel him watching me.

I took the shirt away from his side and with as much cold detachment as I could muster, poured alcohol onto the wound from the bottle he’d readied on the floor. He held is breath and despite him trying to be as silent as possible, he groaned in pain. I tried to ignore that horrible noise as I started sewing up his wound. He muffled his groans by biting his lips and punching the cot next to him. I glanced up at his face and his eyes were screwed shut. My God, he looked….vulnerable.

When I was done I fished around the floor for something that looked almost clean to press to his side. I knelt there as his breathing returned to normal and I chanced my luck by letting my eyes wander a bit more from the wound. I took in his stomach, his face, his hands. But in particular, his arms. They looked solid. And at that moment I felt myself blush.

I pushed myself up to standing and looked anywhere but his face. I nodded at nothing in particular and basically ran out of the tent.

That night I came on my fingers to the thought of biting Micah Bell’s strong biceps as he hovered above me. Couldn’t look him in the eye since then. Well until Colter. Had much bigger fish to fry then.

I was brought back to the present when I felt a weight lean against my arm. In my distraction, Micah had moved to sit next to me. Shoulder to shoulder.

“Oooh I remember” he drawled, facing forward, “remember you scurrying away quick as lightening as well” he mused further. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes. Nothing new for the people around here. But he smelt of something else. Something spicy. Woody? Is that a thing people can smell like?

“I uh, remember you not wanting help. So thought I’d spare you the embarrassment of small talk.” I replied not looking when he turned his face towards me. Leaning in close to my ear.

“Hmm well ain’t that kind”, he whispered and I’m so very proud of the fact that I could keep the shiver I felt from showing. What on earth was happening here.

I turned to face him. “Well I’m a kind person”, I smiled. He pulled back and looked at me like I was a puzzle. Like my face was covered in a maze he couldn’t find a way out from. And while he looked at me, clearly trying to work out his next move. I made mine.

“Well, goodnight Mr Bell,” I proceeded to get up from my spot on the floor. “Thank you for the drink and your lessons on empathy. Even though I will ignore it.” I nodded and before he could respond, I walked to my tent with my head held high. I undid the flaps without looking his way and once I was alone, I threw myself onto my cot.

What the fuck was that?

That night I came on my fingers to the thought of being Micah Bell breathing against my neck.

What the hell am I doing…

#rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fandom #micah bell #micah bell x fem oc #John Marston #Arthur Morgan #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #fanfiction #rdr2 tag #red dead redemption 2 tag #rdr2 pc #rdr2 oc

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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years

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Stay the Night (decode finale)

A/n: was this supposed to happen? No. But neither was part 2, so here we are. The third and this time FINAL installment of Decode. (Also, it isn’t even really song based anymore, I just like keeping it in that same family to make it easier to navigate in my masterlist.

Summary: you're both moving on. But have you really moved on?

Warnings: fluff, slight sexual jokes

Word count: 2.5k

***

"How's my favorite girl doing?" Brian asks when I answer his facetime call.

"Your favorite girl is currently stressing over what to wear on this date."

"Why? You've been out a hundred times already."

"You've been out a hundred times," I mock. "Okay, but we never said those were dates. This one is."

"Dude, don't make it a big deal. It's just a night out. Where are y'all going? Dinner and drinks?"

I shrug. "He said something about maybe catching a movie at the drive in or something. I don't know. Brian, help!"

"Just wear what you're comfortable in. You already know he likes you in everything. I say you just go naked. Skip the date and take him straight to bed!"

"BRI!"

"What? Dates like these are usually just for people to get to know each other. You already know each other."

"Yeah, on a friendship level. We've never looked into the romantic aspect of our relationship."

"You mean you haven't. That's all he's been thinking out since the moment he laid eyes on you."

I still at that confession because that would mean he wanted me when I was with Shawn, and that breaks my heart a little. Knowing he was pining for me while I was pining for someone else.

"How's Shawn?" I ask, rummaging through my closet once again. "Why are you at his place?"

He clears his throat, "he just left. He's going on a date too."

"Different girl?" I hold up a too form fitting dress to me but quickly put it back in my closet.

"Same girl, actually."

I smile softly at that. "Good. And he's doing okay?"

"Yeah," he nods. "I think he was a little upset when he found out about your date. But if he's hurting, he's hiding it well."

I stare down at the two shirts in my hands. "I just want him happy, you know?"

"I know. He's lucky to know you still care."

"I'll always care. We just… we were we destined to break. The entire relationship was just upside down. Our choice of living was too different."

Shawn and Camila called off the stunt shortly after mine and Shawn's "official" breakup. And from what Brian told me, Shawn fought like hell to end it, and he fought even harder to keep my name out of it, which I'm grateful for. But even eight months after the fact, people still bring it up, making it an uncomfortable situation for everyone. Especially because Camila doesn't keep quiet about it - and her numbers and streams just keep going up.

"Go with the grey one," Brian's voice cuts me out of my thoughts.

"This one?" I hold up the thin sweater, the neck cuts pretty deep and it's like two sizes too big so it falls more as an off the shoulder.

"Yeah, it'll look good with the bra you're wearing." I look down at the red bralette I was currently sporting. I was so caught up in what to wear I didn't even remember I wasn't wearing a shirt when Brian called.

I slip it over my frame and fix the shoulders so it looks like an effortless drop "well? What do you think?" I model the outfit for him and he chuckles at my absurd poses.

"You look beautiful. He won't be able to keep his eyes off you… hands either if you let him."

I roll my eyes. "And the sweet moment's over. I have to go finish my hair. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it went."

"You better. And hey, have fun!"

---

The knock on my door startles me a little - I'm definitely far too jumpy for this. It's a date. And as Brian so lovingly mentioned, we've been out hundreds of times. But it's not my date at the door. I should have known too, because he always lets himself in.

"Shawn? What are you-?" I clear my throat. I haven't seen him since we broke up, our friends having to intervene so he would leave. We've spoken since then, though. He apologized and even if we weren't friends, we could at least be civil with each other.

"Brian told me you were going on a date."

I nod, "yeah. He told me you were too."

"I am. I don't have to pick her up for another hour." We're silent for a moment before he says, "You look pretty."

I cross my arms over my middle, nodding still; I felt like a bobblehead. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," he laughs. "I think I just needed to see you. You said that you're fine last time we talked, but I think some part of me is still holding onto hope that you want me. I'd drop everything if you said you still wanted me."

I sigh and shake my head, letting him in. "Shawn, it's too late. I've moved on - you've moved on. Right?"

He sighs and I can see just by the way his head tilts back that he hasn't. Not fully. "I thought I had. But then I heard Brian talking about your date and something clicked. I know I hurt you and I know that it could never truly be the way it used to, but I need to hear it from you. I need you to tell me that you truly are done."

I don't know what difference it would make if I tell him this, but I do. "I've moved on, Shawn. I'm in a really good place right now. With my health,my friends, my job, my family. I'm doing good. I want you to do good. I want you to find someone who makes you happy - someone who can give you those intense butterflies that you claimed to get when you first met me. I just want you happy, that's all I could ever want for you."

"Does he give you those butterflies? Are you happy, y/n?"

I nod. "He does. I am."

"Then I'm happy too. Because that's all I want. I want to know you're happy."

I sigh, "this isn't the thing you're supposed to tell your ex, but I don't think I've felt this good since you and I started dating."

I watch his Adam's apple bounce up and down as he swallows. "I'm glad." My front door creaks open and I know who it is before I even see them because Shawn tenses up just the slightest bit. It would go unnoticed by anyone else, but being with him for so long, I knew his body and reactions almost better than I knew my own. "Well, I should go. Have fun on your date; I need to go pick up mine."

"Right," I nod and without thinking, I wrap him in a hug. He's still stiff for a second, but then I feel him relax against me. I stand on my tiptoes and whisper to him, "I don't regret it, okay? I need you to know that."

He pulls away, his eyes shiny, but he blinks and it's gone. "Me either." He stands straight and looks between me and the boy who has made his way to my side, hand lightly resting on my hip now that I'm not hugging the man I loved so fiercely for two years. "Connor," he nods his head toward him once.

I turn my head to see any form of emotion on his face, and he's housing an open expression - no doubt, confused, but open nonetheless.

"Shawn."

"Have fun tonight," he gives an awkward wave and makes for the door. "I'll see you guys around." And he walks out without another glance our way, closing the door behind him- literally and figuratively, I hope.

"What was that?" Connor asks, but he doesn't look angry, just caught off guard.

"Honestly? I don't know. He just… showed up."

"Are you okay?" He takes my hand in his, rubbing gentle circles over my knuckles. "Because we don't have to do this tonight if you need time to… regroup, I guess."

"No," I shake my head and with my free hand I gently hold the side of his neck, rubbing the spot just below his ear. "I want to do this. According to Brian, you've been waiting on this date for a long time."

He chuckles and lets out a soft groan. "God, Brian really needs to keep his mouth shut."

I can't help but laugh with him. "I second that. However, we should be thanking him."

His cheeks flush red, "yeah. We do… or I do, at least. Had he not pushed me - literally- into asking you out, I don't know if I ever would have."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Well we can thank him later. What do you say? Ready to set the world on fire?" I hold out the hand that had found refuge in playing with his jaw.

The smile that transforms his face is one I wish I had captured on camera. It's sad really, my precious cameraman is never in front of it and no one gets to witness the beauty that is Connor Brashier.

"Let's do this, pretty girl."

---

I'm attempting to throw my wet hair into a messy bun when I catch sight of a purple, frankly hideous mark on the base of my neck. After tying my hair with the elastic I move the neck of my shirt to the side and I'm met with more blossoming bruises. And I'm reminded of just how I got here - wearing Connor's shirt and nothing else while he's laying on his back in his bedroom. I see him from where I'm standing in his bathroom and let my mind wander off to the events of last night.

The movie was long forgotten by both of us as we kissed and nipped at any and all exposed skin that we could see in the dim light of the movie screen. I feel like a rebellious teenager, letting a guy feel me up at the drive in. His mouth latches to the base of my throat and I moan, loud enough that if the windows were cracked, you'd definitely be able to hear. "Stay the night with me?" He begs, licking a stripe over the now red skin.

I don't think about it, I just nod and bring him back to my lips because I'm pretty sure if I don't kiss him right this second I will combust.

"Whatcha doing?" He asks, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. His chin rests on my shoulder and he leans in to press a kiss to my cheek.

"Thinking about how I'm going to cover these hickies when I go to work Monday."

He laughs into the crook of my neck. "Sorry, honey. Got a little carried away, I guess."

I hum, "you could say that. But to be fair, I wasn't exactly gentle with you either.

"Yeah. I know, the scratches still sting."

I scrunch up my face in slight embarrassment, "sorry."

He nuzzles closer into my neck, "can I make you breakfast? Kinda hungry after last night's activities… and this morning's."

I hit his chest with a surprised gasp, "Connor, stop!"

He gives me a wicked grin. "That's not what you were saying earlier."

"I will leave," I threaten.

"Not without me, you won't."

The front door slams shut and he and I both look towards the loud sound. "Did you lock the door?"

He sighs, "yeah. I know who it is." He moves out of the bathroom and I follow close behind.

"You do?"

"Only one other person has a key to my apartment." He says just as his bedroom door opens.

"Connor, y/n isn't answering her phone. Do you know where she-?" Brian stops short when he sees me standing next to Connor. The shock is evident on his face but then he's smiling. "You stayed the night?" The eyebrow wave was enough to set me on fire and I hid between Connor's bare shoulder blades. Finally catching sight of the red trails my finger left on him.

"I'm about to take my key from you," Connor says, one hand resting on me from behind.

"Well I am sorry to burst in like this. But I thought she was missing. She wouldn't answer her phone and she wasn't at her place. I was really starting to get worried."

I look over at the red-head, "I turned my phone off for the movie. I knew you would be texting nonstop."

Brian just laughs, "I see. Well," he plops onto the bed but immediately gets back up, causing both me and Connor to laugh. He dusts off the back of his jeans, a slight look of disgust on his face. "Judging by this morning's attire, I would assume the date went well?"

"You know what they say about assuming." Connor flips us around, his arms firmly around my waist, chin resting on the top of my head.

"Okay… then what is this? You a couple or what?"

"Have talked about it yet. Seems a little too heavy for a morning shower, don't you think?" I ask with a soft smile.

Brian nods, "You're right. My bad. But uh, what about a breakfast conversation? Let's go out. My treat?" He pats his chest sincerely.

"I'll go... if y/n agrees to be my girlfriend."

"Yikes. What if I say no?" I look back at the pretty boy who's still clinging to me.

"Then I guess I wouldn't be eating and this would be super awkward. Could never take this shirt back from you."

I laugh, "well… why don't you ask me properly, Brashier?" I turn in his arms to face him fully.

"Okay," he rests his forehead on mine. "Y/n. Would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?"

I nod, biting away the stupid grin on my face. "I would love nothing more."

"Good," he kisses my cheek. "And would you maybe stay the night again?"

I run my thumb over his bottom lip, "we'll see. Might have you stay the night with me."

"I'll go where you go."

Brian gags from behind us and we separate, a definite blush on our cheeks. "Jesus Christ, I don't even know if I can eat after that." He shakes his head, "disgusting. Y/n, can you just put some pants on? And Connor, please put on a shirt. The only person enjoying the view is y/n."

"Well she was the only one I expected to see this morning," he says as I shimmy into my jeans from last night.

"Fucking hell! What happened to your back?!" He exclaims and I place my head in my hands.

"Brian, get out!" Connor yells, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. The door shuts quickly after something hits the wall, probably a shirt - it was a soft thud. I draw the blinds open, allowing the bright sun to engulf the room. "Sorry about him."

I shake my head and make my way back to him, kissing his marked up shoulder blade. "I don't mind. But we should hurry up before he comes looking for us again."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs @luvluvxx @foreveralone19588 @shawn-youth @langdonlovey

Connor tags: @divinginfearlessly @adorluvr @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @bettroff @bringitttback @myyohmyuohmyy @madison-malfoy @shawnieeboyy

I hope you've enjoyed this piece that I never actually planned on having a happy ending until literally 2 days ago. Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙💙

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #connor brashier #shawn mendes smut #connor brashier blurb #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier smut #connor brashier x reader

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 4 years

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Aniplex Fugou Keiji Livestream | Fugou Keiji 2 | Kitsutsuki 2 - 4 | Arte 3 - 12 (FINAL) | Fruits Basket 27 - 32

During the Millionaire Detective: Unmissable livestream (part of FunimationCon and Aniplex Online Fest), I watched and took notes, so you might find these handy upon retrospect. To be honest, this is how I do the posts for magicalgirlsandcerulean’s livestreams as well, but there hasn’t been one of those in a while...

Otherwise, these are all normal notes.

Aniplex Fugou Keiji Livestream

Look out for the dancer from the OP

Onuki was the model for the dancing for the anime – he was told to do it out of the blue

Episode 11 might have one of these^ be relevant

Daisuke’s cup ramen has shark fin in it and he made the packaging from scratch – that’s why it’s so expensive!

The director Tomohiko Ito omits important information, allowing people to decide for themselves what happened. (Miyano) – This might be why the series is stylish. (MC)

Attractiveness of character design is important! (for adapting Fugou Keiji to modern day)

I’ve never watched a livestream where the stars were so conscious of their English and Chinese audiences! This was interesting, especially because Onuki is not normally known as a VA!

“We still have a little bit of recording to do.”

Fugou Keiji 2

I keep misunderstanding my own instructions…this starts again in July after ep 2.

Todai = Tokyo Daigaku (Uni).

I believe this is the 2nd time I’ve seen a rich person like commoner’s instant noodles, although I forget where I saw the 1stinstance.

Kambe switched to the back seat now, huh?

Ah! Now I remember! The first time was seeing spoilers for this episode on Twitter! (LOL)

I see Suzue has a sensible naming scheme for her data.

Hmm…judging by the Google hits, the name visible in the background (Betbeto bin Abura) is the Arabic prince from last time.

SYN-ACK. I see these guys did their work – that’s the final stage of the 3 stage handshake required for things like internet sockets (used to send “packets” of data).

Way to crash a party, Kambe siblings…(LOL)

I really wanna see someone draw Kato slapping (Daisuke) Kambe in the face with a wad of cash…or a “shut up and take my money” meme with Kambe in it.

I like how “special cup ramen” is on the purchases list and it costs 100000 yen. I also like how the reporter Mita was bought out for 5000000 yen (bigger than all the other individual costs except for buying out the Tower)…that’s how he showed up.

Kitsutsuki 2

I gotta finish this show and then pause it…3 shows in my normal lineup are safe.

Did Kindaichi take the bones of the fish out for Ishikawa…? Like a child would have had done for them?

Why is Ishikawa being referred to as “Hajime”…?

Draw this prostitute like one of your French girls…(LOL?)

Ishikawa clearly dropped those coins into that book earlier.

Way to diss the potential asexuality/celibacy in the house. I mean, it’s the 1800s – early 1900s, so there was less LGBTIQ+ stuff then and certainly the further back you go, the more sexual prowess becomes a sign of masculinity, but still, if the guy doesn’t want to go through with it, don’t force him.

Notice how the borders were pink for Ishikawa’s version and blue for Kindaichi’s.

Notably, Otaki didn’t seem to have that hairpin…but maybe that’s because we saw things from Ishikawa’s perspective.

Ooh…who are these bois? Also, crab.

Kitsutsuki 3

…cat? Now there’s a new perspective. That’s like saying the butler did it.

Yay! Hagiwara is Ume!

Notice Hagiwara’s version has a purple frame, while Yoshii (?) has yellow and another person has dark blue.

I think “consumption” was tuberculosis, once upon a time.

I love how the crowd is fed up with Ishikawa’s bulls***.

Ooh, chuuni Akutagawa…

In a Grove is the Rashomon story.

Tarou Hirai = Rampo Edogawa.

You stalker, future Rampo!

I kinda suspected Otaki when I thought through the possibilities…Ishikawa, Kindaichi, an outsider, Otaki (and as of this ep, Rampo too).

Gaiheikan? Is that Ishikawa and co.’s lodging?

Did they have pencils back in that day?

Kitsutsuki 4

Humouresques.

Kabayaki.

I think it was in Detective Conan that I learnt (one of) the only way(s) a man can get his nails done is by his wife doing it for him, possibly as a prank or to indicate he’s “taken”. Note this was early Detective Conan, so it’s very much a 90s attitude…considering the widespread acceptance of drag queens and the LGBTIQ+ movement these days.

Kozukata.

Lace flower.

Maichou seems to be a hybrid of Asahi Shinbun and Mainichi Shinbun.

[Monkfish/dictionary/going home] - Is this how Ishikawa shows consideration…?

The purple letterrboxing is back but this time with Ishikawa…meaning that’s just an aesthetic thing for all flashbacks after all.

Just from vaguely hearing it (I’ve got the volume on low), the words are nodo tsuki/nodo zuki. “Throat moon/throat wound” works just as well, if not better.

Balsam flower.

Update: Since enough anime fulfilled the special COVID-19 criteria, Kitsutsuki was put on hold after this.

Fruits Basket 2 2 (27)

I’ve read Another, remember?…so I kind of know what happens.

Uo’s got purple nails…that’s surprisingly cute of her.

Aw, Kureno! Another Ume role!

Why is “shisho” (master) not translated…? A weird Tokyopop-era translation quirk?

Aw, Shisho cut his hair…? Bummer.

Who was that? Shigure…?(!) Update: We find out his name later in this ep.

“If you continue to change, I��ll continue to protect you.” – Another quote for the archive.

Great…I feel personally called out by this ep.

Fruits Basket 2 3 (28)

It seems all male designers wear their designs if they have no one else to wear them…at least, that’s what I’ve gathered from Hajime (Runway de Waratte) and Ayame.

I remember Ayame stood in for Yuki’s parents in the manga at one point. This must be it.

(Spoilers for later!) I also remember Mine and Ayame get married at the end…This is the prelude to that.

Dang, Ayame, you moment-ruiner!

Fruits Basket 2 4 (29)

Did anyone in the doorway hear about Hatsuharu turning into an ox?

To quote Sailor Mercury, “Douse yourself in water and repent!”

Ooh, window splitting Yuki and Haru. Nice cinematography going on here.

I bet all people think they only think about themselves, in one way or another.

Arashiyama tofu.

Yatsuhashi are great. They’re these sweet triangle things like samosas that come in various flavours. Mitarashi dango are sticky brown skewered balls of glutinous rice…which I’ve never had, but I’ve seen them in enough anime to know what they are.

I only just realised this, but Yuki’s hairstyle isn’t even on both sides, like Atsushi from BSD’s.

Huh…you can see a copy of Mogeta and Ari (as it turns out, “Ari” is the name of a character and not “ant” at all in this case) on Haru’s bed. There’s also an article in one of the magazines discussing how denim is the popular thing now and which types are in right now.

Fruits Basket 2 5 (30)

I realised Yuki isn’t calling Tohru by her first name – he’s going against Haru’s advice.

Hmm? Why should anyone ask a rabbit to hold their horses…? (LOL)

CGI cars…*sigh*

Tororo is grated yam, IIRC.

I learnt recently that nanban means “savage” or “uncivilised”…for a potato and chicken dish, the name and the contents don’t really match…Update: Nanban means “savage” (noun) or “barbarian”. Close enough.

17-26…age gap 9 years…yikes…

The words “(a happy, yet) caged bird” come to mind when Kureno describes himself. Also, Kureno is an Ume role! Yippee!

Ahh…young love…even if it has a bit of an awkward edge to it. Mind the (age) gap!

Me being the Ume stan, of course I want to hear those sweet nothings in his voice, even if it has to be via a proxy like Uotani…I wouldn’t be an Ume stan if I didn’t.

…Ah, I see. Uotani reminds me of Minare from Wave and vice versa.

Oh, I just remembered Akito is 20 or thereabouts. Kureno/Akito is only a bit more legal than Uotani and Kureno.

Arte 3

Notice Leo never once uses Arte’s name in the lady’s presence. Her name does have some infamy to it, after all.

“She’s got some guts.” – You say that at a live dissection…LOL.

Is this love~? What’s the age gap between Leo and Arte, anyway? Update: We know for sure Arte is older than 13…that’s it.

Make the things you want prominent with perspective and such. I thought that much was obvious, but for someone straightforward like Arte, I guess it ain’t so. (Maybe it’s because I’m self-taught to some degree when it comes to art.)

*sketching by candlelight* - You’re gonna ruin your eyes, Arte!

Arte, ma girl! You’re getting’ a raise! Good job!

Arte 4

Anime makes this courtesan stuff sound like a host club…(?)

I thought Leo was saying “Aria” for a second instead of Arte, LOL. I’m getting too used to that being my alias…

Arte 5

The speech bubble said “so annoying I could die”.

Arte 6

The video’s gone all pixelated…at least, the subs have…

I bet she’s going to fall over…Update: Nup, she didn’t.

Arte 7

I thought Yuri was a Russian name…or a Japanese one.

This is basically Oushitsu Kyoushi Heine all over again! (LOL)

I thought Yuri would be pushy…like, “Here’s an offer you can’t refuse.” That kind of thing. Likewise, I didn’t think Arte would refuse.

Leo? *dun-dun-DUN!*

Siena is apparently in Tuscany. Also, I did see the Silent Manga Audition page had a chapter on a pregnant woman, so this is ch. 17 or thereabouts.

Is Ruthanna not getting the money because she’s pregnant…?

Epidemic? The Black Death?...Speaking of which, Arte is very much of that ganbaru spirit. By being progressive for her time, she becomes ordinary in our time.

Ohhhhhhh! It’s a reverse harem in progress here!...This would be a good otome game, come to think of it. It’s framed the same way.

Leo can be surprisingly childish at times, don’t you think?

Arte 8

…Really? She fell overboard? *raises eyebrow*

Ooh, china (with and without capitalisation).

Is this another sarcastic child…? Oh, bother. Still, I can see why Hamefura crossed over with Arte now…Katarina vs. Catarina!

Arte 9

Bigoli is a type of pasta, as can be guessed from context.

The kanji for the episode title literally translate to “bad child”! Like the Tones and I song, LOL!

Mikata (ally).

Arte 10

This episode is giving off a Katarina x Gimo ship vibe…but with how young they are, I’m not sure I should ship it. They’re 6, aren’t they…?

Oh, you can see Katarina and Sofia’s hug in one of the ED frames.

Arte 11

Arte’s let her hair grow out…

An Italian man…bowed. In Renaissance Italy. Now I understand what all the ANN complaints are for.

What’s up with that kid’s face…? *grumbles*

Leo’s just being Leo, I see.

That’s right, Angelo and Leo never met.

Instead of a father or a brother overly cherishing his daughter, it’s the uncle…I never thought I’d see the day I saw something like that.

Arte 12 (FINAL)

Is this like Orientalism, but with gender…? (What would you call that?)

Lemme guess…Leo is working on the church mural and so he’s away?

Was that Leo, in the middle of the mural somewhere…?

Another Japanese bow in this anime, which is set in Italy.

But where is Arte herself in that mural?

Fine = end.

Fruits Basket 31

The word Momiji is using is “hisso” or something like that. Hissho is secretary, so the translator made it “secret getaway” to make it work.

That hat! *laser stare*

*one of the textbooks has “high school chemistry” on it* Tohru can do chemistry?! I suck at chemistry!

The episode title is translated as “Are you really this stupid?” It seems the real line for that was “Are you an idiot?”

Something about high school girls appeared in my head when Haru mentioned Shigure wanting to see Tohru in her tight swimsuit…*mumbles grumpily about pervs*

Kyo’s not wet, even though he got in the water! Amazing!

I think it’s sad that Tohru responds to “stupid girl” like it’s her own name.

“…that makes you suspect me?” seems better.

The Akito and Shigure age gap is somewhere between 6 and 8 years, IIRC.

Fruits Basket 32

Tohru switched from okaasan (mother) to okattekita (a formal past tense verb meaning either “bought”, “lent” or “won” based on the characters…which I don’t have a reference for). I assume because it was so off the mark, the subbers chose a similarly off the mark word.

“When I was a kid, I thought watermelons would sprout in my stomach if I ate the seeds.”

We only know about Kyo’s dad so far…hmm…what about the mother? Update: (TW: suicide) I think it was at this point we already knew that Kyo’s mother didn’t love him and committed suicide, but it’s not certain until later.

Why do doctors always use scalpels and syringes as weapons…? I mean, even Jakurai’s symbol in ARB is a syringe!

I’ve been wondering…how big is the Sohma family? Is it diluted enough that Haru and Rin can love each other without genetic problems for their child/ren? (From Another, I would say the answer is “yes”, but shoujo normally doesn’t care about this sort of thing, which is why I ask in the first place.)

Shigure seems like the type to say, “U mad, bro?”

The mansion looks like the one in Haruhi Suzumiya, if I remember the appearance of that one correctly.

#simulcast commentary #fugou keiji: balance:unlimited #Millionaire Detective: Balance: Unlimited #Fruits Basket #arte #Kitsutsuki Tantei Dokoro #Woodpecker Detective's Office #Chesarka watches Arte #Chesarka watches Fugou Keiji #Chesarka watches Furuba

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romancingromanoff · 5 years

Text

What Happens At Disney.... Part 2/3

youHe:

Just a bunch of Disneyworld fluff! Also more one-on-one time with Nat in this one; you get a makeover and her and Ariel compete for best redhead.

Part 1 here//Part 3 here

Tony coughed, “So now what?” The rest of the crew is standing around awkwardly in what Cap calls their “civilian clothes.” He’s sporting a plain white tee and a blue baseball cap (of course, because America) while Tony has opted for a more business casual look with a fancy short sleeved collared shirt and a tie. That’s about as casual as he gets but you just hope that he can try and relax and have fun today. There’s nothing that Thor could wear that wouldn’t make him look like a super granola California surfer guy. His man bun is attracting a lot of female attention, but then again, you suppose that that happens most of the time anyway. Bruce, of course, manages to look awkward in whatever clothing he’s wearing. He has a lot of purple shirts but he’s decided to go with the one you got him for Christmas with a small pocket over his left breast that you told him was where he was supposed to put his matching pen you also had made. You think it’s sweet that he’s wearing it today. Clint is also wearing some shorts and a tee along with some actual worn in sneakers; he probably blends in the most with the crowd.

Then there’s Nat- your girlfriend. She could pull off anything of course but today she’s just wearing some shorts, a black tank, and some combat boots. She’s quite the opposite of yourself in terms of the color palette she prefers but you secretly love that her neutral-toned basic pieces allow her red hair to shine and frame your favorite part about her- her face and those green eyes. Her hands are casually in her front pockets and she would almost seem relaxed if not for the fact that she was perpetually scanning the area around her and moving her eyes around to check for potential threats wherever she goes. You sigh and grab one of her hands into your own and pull her towards one of the stores and motion for everyone else to follow behind you.

“Well, me and Nat are going to the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique so can you boys wait for us nearby? Thor, I think they sell giant turkey legs at that stand over there,” you see his face perk up at the mention of huge slabs of meat and he’s gone before you can blink.

“Aw, c’mon Thor! You can’t just push the kids out of the way like that!” Bruce groans and goes after him followed by Clint, Steve (who has entered reluctant babysitter mode) and Tony because apparently he just coincidentally wants to “go in that vague direction.”

“Okay, but I am not allowing them to touch my hair,” Natasha warns and you just give her a peck on her cheek before dragging her into the store. It’s like what you imagine Princess Jasmine’s salon is actually like as there are golden chandeliers, giant mirrors, and long silky curtains and drapes of all different colors decorating the giant space. Two of the stylists greet you with great big smiles and start giving you information on all of the different packages they offer.

“Of course not,” you smile. “Remember, this is my makeover, buddy. And I don’t want you stealing away my thunder anyway when you’re already a billion times prettier than me.”

“Get in the chair, you dork,” she snorts as you take a seat in the styling chair and the ladies begin their work. You decide to go with some simple makeup (just a little bit of blush, neutral eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, some lipgloss in the shade that Aurora wears, and light mascara with only a tiny bit of sparkly highlighter) and a giant Elsa-braid.

“Oooh, help me pick out the perfect ears!” you squeal dragging Nat over to a wall of an assortment of glittery Minnie Mouse ears next. A pair of sparkly white ones with a red bow catches you eye which Nat notices and she reaches up to grab them for you.

“If I have any input, I’d like to see wearing these in the bedroom,” she says in that sultry voice as your face blushes and she slips them onto you.

“Shush, Nat, this is a public place with little kids,” you swat at her but can’t help but catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and you tilt your head modeling them off for her as she smiles watching. “But I do look really good in these,” you admit. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff,” you say to her in a lowered voice and pray that the store is busy enough that no one can hear your private conversation over all of the noise. She just gives you a grin which tells you she’s up to no good and pulls out her phone to show you a pair of very expensive, but stunning cat ears from a website you personally would have been afraid to visit off of private browsing mode.

“I don’t know, maybe playing cat and mouse could be kinda fun,” she says suggestively and you give her a quick kiss on her lips.

“Hey, don’t make me mess up my lipstick,” you warn with a laugh.

“Not until we get home, I promise.”

You meet with the boys just in time to stop Thor from consuming half of all of the turkey legs this poor vendor has and Tony suggests that you all go on a ride.

“How about the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train?” you suggest. “You know, from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?”

“I understood that reference,” Steve’s got this huge smile on his face when you mention what was one of the only Disney animated films that came out pre-WWII.

“Well, apparently the ride is just as old as you Capsicle,” Tony mocks him and pulls up his phone which he has on a website that shows all of the times you have to wait in line for a ride. “Because the train broke down while the dwarfs must have been hi-hoing to work.”

You can’t help but get a bit sad and your sulk a little bit before Nat gently rubs your arm and shoots Tony an angry glare. “Buuuuuuuut,” he begins obviously intimidated by Romanoff. “Luckily, I am an engineering genius so I’ll see what I can do to fix it.”

Perhaps the only perk of having a super egotistical genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist for a friend is that they never take “no” for an answer and can talk their way into pretty much anything when you need a favor from them. The seven of you eventually found your way to the control room which was underground in the infamous tunnels that only workers were allowed to see.

“I don’t know, Tony, I get kind of claustrophobic and being underground probably isn’t good for my stress,” Bruce worries as Tony is nagging him to help him with the tools.

“Hey, it’s the happiest place on earth, so get the hell in here,” he says and you hear Bruce groan. You, Clint, Nat, and Steve just decide to awkwardly wait outside while they’re arguing over mechanics and Tony is criticizing the Mouse for “not having adept technicians” when you decide you’d rather go explore around the corner and at least look for a bathroom. You excuse yourself and head into the labyrinth that is Disney’s Underground Maze and can’t help but stare at all of the half-human half-animal creatures you run into. There’s Chip & Dale without their costume heads on so it just looks like two normal guys’ heads floating on top of the bodies of some obese chipmunks, the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland is standing in a corner cursing out his girlfriend over the phone, and someone else with Tigger’s head and a woman’s body almost bumps into you. That’s when you stumble upon what looks like another dressing room and you peak in to find that it’s full of all of the Princess character-actors putting on their makeup and wigs.

“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” a super perky voice catches you by surprise and you almost trip over yourself before the owner of that voice manages to catch you. She’s wearing the most magnificent mint green ball gown which is sleeveless. You know it’s a wig, but she’s got the most voluptuous red curls that frame her kind face so nicely that you can’t help but stutter as she smiles at you. After all, you’ve always had a thing for redheads and though she’s a little too bubbly for your taste, you have to admit that she’s very beautiful. “Wow, it is so cool to meet you!” Princess Ariel exclaims before she starts complimenting you on all of the work you do. “I’m such a huge fan of yours!”

“Thank you very much, it’s nice to run into someone that thinks so,” you say. “And I’m such a big fan of your’s, I mean, of Ariel’s since I guess you are her.. or.. are you? Um, what should I call you?” you feel so embarrassed tripping over your own words confused about what the rules are for breaking out of character but she just laughs it off. You had no idea that the employees here could be so nice.

“I’m off the clock right now so you can call me Stella,” she winks and you try to play it off like you totally know what’s going on. “How long are you going to be here in Orlando?”

“A couple of days. I really want to visit all of the different parks.”

“Well,” she reaches into the dressing room and grabs what looks like a sticky note and a Mickey Mouse pen. “Let me know if you’d like someone to show you around, you know, after hours. I can give you the secret tour; get us a dinner reservation somewhere nice,” she winks at you again and then you finally catch on to what she means after she hands you the note which you see has a phone number on it.

“Oh, uh-”

“Thanks, but my girlfriend knows I won’t kiss her if she’s been eating seafood,” you whip around to see Natasha standing there looking like she’s death itself about ready to take this poor girl away to hell.

“I, uh, I gotta go,” Stella hurries into the dressing room closing the door after her and you’re left with an angry assassin with her arms crossed just waiting for an explanation.

“Natasha, I swear, I had no idea she was flirting with me.”

“I know. That’s exactly how she took advantage of you,” she almost darts into the room but you block the door before she can go kill anybody.

“Hey, she was not taking advantage of me,” you retort.

“I saw how you were mesmerized by her hair and that stupid starfish clip.”

“It’s a wig, Natasha. You know I like my women to be naturally redheaded... even if they get a little green sometimes,” you playfully push her understandingly taking her two hands into yours and pulling her closer. “I only have eyes for you,” you whisper and she rolls her eyes trying to resist the puppy eyes you’re giving her.

“Okay, but if she flirts with you again then I’m ripping that wig right off.”

Natasha won’t let go of your hand as you find your way back to Tony and Bruce who have finally finished repairing the ride. Coming back up above ground, the sun’s glare kind of blinds all of you and you notice Clint looks especially bothered.

“Hey, save that perfect hawk-vision of yours,” you pull out a pair of sunglasses from your bag and offer them to him.

“Thanks,” he says slipping them on over his squinting eyes before Thor, Tony, and Nat erupt in laughter. Clint just stands there confused for a second as his eyes readjust just before he realizes that the sunglasses you’ve given him are from the Pixie Hollow collection and are bright pink with tons of sequins all over the winged-shaped frames.

“You know what? My eyesight needs protection more than my masculinity, which I am completely comfortable with, so you guys can just go blind. Have fun staring at the sun,” he proclaims trying to block out the sounds of Tony struggling to breath from laughing too much and Thor’s giant belly laughs.

“Hey! I will expose you!” he threatens. “Security! Security?! Yeah, this guy has a giant weapon on him! Yup, the hammer guy? That's him. He’s right here.”

Thor turns around so fast with his hammer up to Clint’s chin. “You be silent right this instant, Barton, or else I shall smash you fairy princess glasses with my hammer right here and now.”

“No! Those are mine!” you scream as Natasha just keeps recording everything happening on her phone.

To be continued...

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