#dear god i am stupid. this is gonna be a fun email to write

[blueskittlesart]

i just. accidentally skipped my first day of this class. help me

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Playing games Pairing: dark!Sebastian Stan x Reader Warning: yandere, swearing, some non-con implications towards the end. Words: 2069. P.S. JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAVE I DONE I AM A TERRIBLE PERSON I HOPE NO ONE WHO REALLY MET SEBASTIAN GONNA READ THIS ghjdfyjdfds I’m so sorry guys _____________________________________ “I asked for a vanilla latte with extra milk, not caramel cappuccino.”

You rolled your eyes at his irritated remark. You knew Sebastian wasn’t in his best mood this morning and expected him to make your day nastier just because he felt like it.

“Sorry, but I’m sure it was caramel cappuccino. You asked for some cinnamon on the top, remember?”

“No, I didn’t.” He snarled and looked at you, giving a mocha frappe to Jill, his hair artist. “I asked for a vanilla latte. If you suffer from memory loss, you’d better visit your doctor once we get back to US.”

What an asshole. Mary, who was now applying some makeup on Sebastian’s face with her beauty blenders and brushes, bit down on her lip: she had been watching how he treated you for the last 3 weeks, and it was a living nightmare. It was very odd since Sebastian was on good terms with pretty much everyone around, but you were always an exception. Why? Neither Mary nor Jill could tell. There was nothing revolting in the way you behaved around Mr. Stan, simply doing your job as his assistant. You were getting him coffee every morning, buying some personal stuff for him, managing his meetings… but you were more an errand girl, that’s true. It was surprising for most of the other people surrounding you two, but you didn’t object to your tasks. You were furious because of the way Sebastian treated you.

He was mean, unfair, irritating, and rude. You didn’t deserve it.

“Well, my voice recorder tells I got everything right.” You pulled it from the pocket of your below-knee sheath skirt, ready to press the button.

“What the fuck is that?” The man rose to his feet immediately, almost pushing frozen Mary out of his way and stepping towards you. “How many times do I have to tell you? NO. FUCKING. RECORDERS.”

He was ready to snatch it from your hands, yet you were able dodge him right on time, hiding the recorder in your pocket again.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry, I’ll put it away!” In a second you were behind Jill’s tall figure as if you were a child hiding from a bad-tempered parent, Sebastian watching you with anger in his cold blue eyes. “I’m not going to use it. But it’s still true, you asked for caramel cappuccino.”

“Guess what? I don’t fucking care.” He growled in a low voice. “You’ll go and get me vanilla latte because it’s your goddamn job. And I want my coffee before Jill’s finished with my hair, understood?”

Watching his with clear disdain on your face, you cursed under your breath. It was freaking hot in Prague where Sebastian was filming now and getting out the second time just to run to Starbucks once more would sure ruin both your makeup and a white blouse you had been wearing. Damn it.

“God, why do you have to be such a bastard most of the time?” You snapped at him, visibly shaking with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a closet psycho or what?”

“I’m the one who pays you, honey.” He smiled at you the same way he always did it in front of the camera and you felt sick.

You stormed off the room without having a glance back at his perfect white teeth. Sebastian Stan was the worst person you had ever met, and you were working for him, seeing him every day and listening to his orders as if you were his pet. How did it come to this? Why did he look like the most perfect human being to you six months ago? What made him behave like that to you when in reality it was him who offered you a job?

God, it was all messed up. You did not remember when things got so bad you could yell at each other in a full voice. It was actually surprising, someone like you shouting and swearing at one of the world’s most famous actors, but it was something Sebastian let you do. Like he wanted you to scream at him regardless who surrounded you whether it was his makeup artists, agents, cleaning ladies or anyone else. It was like he got off on it.

True, this job payed well, much better than the one you had before. Moreover, in these 6 months you saw more countries than you did in your entire life, travelling with Sebastian everywhere and meeting tons of new people, many of them being great professionals. It was inspiring; it made you dream of all the things you thought were impossible; it made you curious and gave you a chance to practice your networking skills.

But Sebastian was fucking blowing it. After six months of constant everyday battles filled with rage and pure hatred you had gained weight, 10 pounds to be precise. Now you were having problems to sleep, and you knew it wasn’t the jet lag.

Anyway, you spent the whole day running around the city to buy him this or that. In the evening you were so tired you could barely move your legs while Sebastian was clearly pleased seeing you like that. It probably stroked his enormous ego.

Fuck it. You didn’t deserve a minute of it. You were not going to let him ruin you for fun, just because he could it since he payed you. Why did you spend you precious time trying to please him? Sure, you still considered him one of the best actors on the planet, but the things he did to you were not ok. He wasn’t ok. Maybe he really was a psycho or had some disorder he didn’t want to treat, you had no idea. But you knew it couldn’t continue like that. It was too much.

You spent an hour writing an email and asking to be laid off. It was just a few lines, simple and professional, yet you were constantly adding and then erasing new sentences. You shouldn’t make it personal, you thought to yourself. You doubted you could leave on agreeable terms, but you needed to give it a try. Even if your last argument with Mr. Stan might be the worst of them all, it would be your last one. It was worth it.

Sighing, you decided to take a stroll before going to bed. 15 minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You’d have some fresh air and enjoy the view of Prague’s Powder Gate – you were lucky to stay right in the center of this magnificent old city. You could make some more photos to show your friends once you return back home. It was also nice to just sit on a bench and look at the night sky full of stars.

Maybe then you wouldn’t feel so guilty for leaving Sebastian and your team.

In the end, it took you way more that 15 minutes, but your late-night walk made your thoughts clear and left no regrets about your choice. What was happening between you and Sebastian wasn’t right, and you could do nothing but leave. With so many people wishing to work for him he would get another assistant in a matter of hours, and you would get your life back. Those money you earned would keep you afloat quiet some time even if you wouldn’t be able to get a job right away.

“What is this, Y/N?”

His voice almost made you jump. Sebastian stood up from the chair in the corner of your room once you put on the lights. What the Hell was he doing here so late? How did he open the door? If he needed anything, he could simply give you a call.

Oh. You saw your little black recorder in his hand.

“I told you I won’t use it anymore.” Your jaw clenched.

“I’m not talking about this piece of shit.”

He tossed your recorder on your bed as if he couldn’t care less and moved towards you so fast you had no time to step back.

“What is this pathetic email you wrote?” Sebastian’s handsome face darkened. “Are you not right in the head? You want to leave?”

“Yes, I do. What’s wrong with that?” Your expression hardened. He dared to touch your laptop when you weren’t there. “I thought you’d be glad to know. Today you told me three times I didn’t deserve working for you, correct?”

“You know perfectly well I wasn’t serious.”

“God, I have a hard time telling when you’re serious since all you do is hating me.”

He sent you an icy glare.

“You know I don’t hate you. You just happen to bring the worst in me, dear.”

There he was again. God, were you going to have this argument right now when you were deadly tired? You hoped it could wait till tomorrow, but it was clearly not your luckiest day.

“If you want to blame me again, it’s ok. I’m the worst one. I’m a bad person and a terrible assistant.” You squeezed your eyes shut and sighed again, scratching your forehead. “I get it. What I don’t get is why you aren’t happy I’m leaving.”

“Because I don’t want you to leave. If I really hated you so much, I’d already found another assistant, but I don’t want that.”

“Listen, let’s stop playing our games just for a few minutes.” This conversation made you feel even more exhausted. “We don’t get along. You don’t like me. Why do we torment each other? I don’t even remember the last time we had a regular conversation without shouting and cursing.”

“I’m not playing games with you, dear. You do.” He had already cornered you, his face determined and somewhat unsettling. “What do you want? A raise? More benefits?”

You were ready to yell at him again.

“Did you listen to what I just said? I want to leave. I want to come home and forget about all our horrible fights. I want to have a steady and boring job back in US. Do you understand?”

“NO, I DON’T!” The man screamed at you again, and now you suddenly felt his arms clenching your shoulders painfully and winced from his touch. “I already told you to stop toying with me! After all this shameless flirting and batting your eyes you wanna tell me you’re leaving? Do you think I’m so stupid to believe in this bullshit?”

It took you a few seconds to process his words. What? Flirting? Well, you did consider him handsome and charming, who on Earth didn’t, but you had never pulled anything like that. At first, it was because of your professionalism, and then your relationships escalated so fast you knew that he hated you and you hated him. What Sebastian had been even talking about?

You felt very aware how close he was once you felt his heavy breath on your face. He never did this before.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I want to leave. That’s all.” You tried pushing him back with your hands against his chest. “Please, let me go. I need to… t-to go to the kitchen.”

“You’re going nowhere, dear.” His expression darkened. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want me to treat you like my assistant? I get it, I get it, it’s fine. I can treat you like my girl in front of everyone if that’s what you want.”

“No! I – “

His put his hand on your mouth immediately, leaning in closer.

“It’s ok, I understand. I grew tired of pretending like nothing happens between us, too. You want me to let everyone now? It’s ok. I’ll post our photo on Instagram tomorrow. Is this what you want? Is this what you want?”

You tried to scream, but his grip on you was too strong as if Sebastian was really some kind of super soldier. Desperately trying to wriggle free you only got him to hold you tighter, his soft lips all over your face already wet with tears.

“It’s ok, dear. I got it.” He shushed you, trying to keep your arms together with his hand and pushing his knee in between your legs. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I understand now, so you don’t have to go. You won’t go, will you?”

You couldn’t answer him even if you wanted to.

[lovelyirony]

Ironwidow fake dating and cousin Sharon matchmaking

Nat and Tony have been friends since seventh grade, when Tony made fun of her drawing and in retaliation, Nat stuck a pencil in his thigh. 

He grinned at her after sneakily getting a tissue from the front desk. 

“You’re pretty good, Nat.” 

“My name is Natasha.” 

“Not to me, it’s not.” 

So it becomes Nat and Tony. Tony and Nat. They do everything together, from attend the eighth grade pool parties and hate all of them to the freshman orientation in high school where they make fun of the senior leaders and sneak into the admissions office to make sure they have at least one class together. (And then change the schedule when they don’t.) 

Tony has been in love with Natasha Romanoff since the first eighth grade pool party, when she showed up in a full wet suit because she didn’t like the way that their classmate Ivan liked her. 

But, he hasn’t done anything about it. Why is that, everyone asks? Just ask her out! 

Well, Tony has a special talent that is medically known as “anxiety,” but he also has common sense. 

Natasha Romanoff is beautiful. She has gorgeous red hair, eyes that know everything about you before you even think they do, a wicked sense of humor, and a sense of self that is beyond anything Tony’s ever encountered. 

Tony stays up until three a.m., doesn’t give a shit about his appearance so he is frequently rushing to school with the worst bed hair imaginable, and also wears possibly the most out-of-style clothing ever. 

Like right now. A pair of jeans that’s too short and he cuffed only on one leg, a shirt that’s advertising some college Howard made him visit, and he’s pretty sure that the plaid he layered it with has a coffee stain down the back. 

He’s proven right when Sharon wrinkles her nose. 

“Dude, you seriously haven’t done laundry since two weeks ago, have you?” 

“Do I smell bad? Do I?” 

She leans in. 

“No, just like old coffee. So regular. We’ll see when Nat comes. Or you could confess your love to have her not roast your choice of apparel.” 

Tony scowls, adjusting his backpack. 

“Do you have another topic, or are you just that boring?” 

“I could also tell you about World War One,” Sharon adds. “I just read about it in one of those stupid textbooks I have to carry around. Did you know that the French are actually the worst at war?” 

“Yes, everyone knows that. I think they know that too.” 

Nat’s already at her locker. She looks gorgeous with her jean jacket, the new patches sewn on. 

“Looking cute,” Sharon says appreciatively. “Do you think you’re gonna get dress-coded for the ‘fuck men’ patch?” 

“Not if they want me to write an article on how the club fund got cut but the football team got another new field within four years,” Nat says. 

“Still a good article,” Tony says. “If you could still get into a college without a reputation ruined. You know how much schools care about sports.” 

“More than education at times!” Sharon cheers. 

Nat snorts, bringing Tony into a hug. 

“Nice to see you, dude. Ready for history?” 

“Not in the slightest. We’re probably talking about government procedure again while our teacher waxes poetic about the justice system. I think I might try to change the FDA’s home screen again.” 

“You know, they might catch on after the fourth time of you inserting random YouTube videos to different links.” 

“It’s the Federal Department of Agriculture, I highly doubt they care,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Besides, I’ve already proven that I’m probably better with technology than the government itself.” 

This was true; Tony had hacked into the official website of the White House with shitty hotel Wi-Fi and half his sanity. (It was flu season, he’d had way too much Ny-Quil.) 

School passes by with little incident, all things considered. A classic Monday, with the only real excitement being an announcement of no school the following Monday for a staff meeting. 

It isn’t until Tony gets home to find both of his parents home and in the same room, waiting for him, that he starts to panic. 

“Is this an intervention?” Tony asks. “Did I do something bad?” 

“Not yet,” Howard says. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“Dear,” Maria reprimands. “No, there’s an event that we want you to attend.” 

“Want or need?” Tony asks. “I was supposed to hang out with my friend Bruce to work on his genetics lab.” 

“I’m sure the lab can wait,” Howard scoffs. “You’re in high school, for god’s sake.” 

“Bruce is doing lab work for Culver,” Tony says. “He got early acceptance, so he’s doing a weird deal so he gets college credit and a year off early.” 

“Impressive, dear,” mom says, smiling. “But this event is something that you can’t miss.” 

It’s a goddamn family reunion. Maria’s side, but still. At least Peggy and Sharon would come. 

Family reunions on the Carter/Carbonell side are…interesting. A lot of loud people, aunts that couldn’t stop cooking, and at least one uncle that would say something marginally horrible and cause a rift for at least six hours where everything was tense. 

Sharon had to take this advantage carefully. 

So she got her own email into the family chain of them–a mistake by all accounts, but one that should be committed sooner rather than later–and tells the family that Tony is bringing his girlfriend, Natasha. 

They both love each other, she knows that much. Tony looks at Nat like he could give her anything in the world, and Nat looks at him with so much vulnerability that she always says she doesn’t have. 

They’ve liked each other for a while now. Sharon wishes that it wasn’t at her family reunion that she was doing this, but it was either that or a dance for high school, and that’s far too much work. 

Tony, understandably, is stressed. 

“Does she even know she’s going?!” Tony yells. “Holy shit Sharon, she’s going to meet like eighty of us!” 

“Yeah,” Sharon says. “She just doesn’t know that she’s supposed to be your girlfriend.” 

“Sharon.” 

“Yes?” 

“Run.” 

Sharon squeals as she skids out of the room, Tony chasing after her. He’s not really going to do anything about it, but he still has to text Nat. 

i am. so sorry 

lmao it’s fine. sharon just said i’m going to the reunion. why? 

funny story…

fuck what’d she do 

she emailed everyone that i was bringing you as a girlfriend. and i’m not really going to spend the whole weekend correcting it. 

gotcha. operation: fake dating commence! 

thank you nat. seriously love you 

Nat reads the message, but doesn’t respond. Of course Sharon would pull something like this. She knew that Nat liked her cousin, probably since they were kids. 

And now she had to pretend to be his girlfriend, something she actually wanted very much to do. 

She gets a text from Sharon. 

Please don’t wear your jean jacket with all the patches. It’s very cool, but you will start a fight in my family and win. But then you aren’t allowed to come back :( 

Natasha sends her back the middle finger, but then promises not to bring it.

This brings up the subject; what do you wear to a family reunion? 

- 

Tony’s fidgeting in the car as he goes to pick up Nat. His mother was very surprised. 

“You got your father’s distinct habit of not shutting your mouth,” she says with a chuckle. “But I do suppose the gazes say it all. Every Carbonell man looks like he’s in love before he says it, so–” 

“Mama, not now!” Tony hisses. Natasha’s making her way to the car, backpack slung around her shoulder and an elegant handbag in the crook of her arm. 

“Hey Ms. Carbonell,” Natasha says. “How are you?” 

“Doing good, better now that I get to have you with us,” she teases. “Anthony over here never told me that he was going to have you on as a special guest.” Natasha sends a raised eyebrow over to Tony. 

“Oh?” 

“I forgot,” Tony lied smoothly. “You know how I get in the labs. Just completely forget everything I’m supposed to remember.” 

The conversation is easy after that: just a few little anecdotes that Nat and Tony have gone over last night over the phone. They had confessed that they liked each other a year ago, had kept it extremely low-key since both didn’t want to fuss with it, and that was that. 

“How come Sharon knew but I didn’t?” Mom pouts. 

“She’s an imp,” Tony answers. “An imp who doesn’t know how to keep business to herself.” 

Their family fills up a small inn out of the way, and Tony sighs as he sees three of his aunts already conspiring at the bar. 

“Be prepared for a barrage of questions.” 

“Roger that.” 

Natasha is whisked away by the ladies with a few compliments to the cute flats she’s wearing and her favorite type of perfume. Tony gets led over to Sharon, who is playing darts with Trip and their kind-of-but-not-really-cousin, Ricardo. 

“What have I missed out on?” Trip asks, grinning. “Heard some girl was crazy enough to come and date you. She’s a looker, Tony.” 

“Thanks,” Tony says. “But yes, crazy enough to date me. Sharon knows how crazy it is, I practically get the same gene from her.” 

Sharon rolls her eyes, landing another bullseye. Ricardo curses. 

“How do you always manage to do this?” 

“Practice for this exact moment,” Sharon says with a grin. “Go get me a drink. One of the good ones.” 

“You seriously get him to do your bidding every single time,” Tony says with a laugh. Trip excuses him to see Uncle Erik, leaving Sharon and Tony alone. 

“So. You liking your new status of boyfriend?” 

“You seriously need to stop meddling,” Tony scowls. “Just because I like her doesn’t mean she should be in on this.” 

“She doesn’t mind,” Sharon scoffs. “Besides, I think Aunt Angie is going to tell her about the cardboard incident.” 

“Oh my god–” 

Natasha saunters over, grinning devilishly. 

“So. Naked and a cardboard box for modesty? Why am I not surprised at the innovation, Tony?” 

“Dammit,” Tony swears. “I’m going to learn something embarrassing about you. I’ll ask Clint.” 

“Like he’ll tell.” 

The reunion goes about as well as expected. Uncle Daniel finally spills the beans and says that his son who couldn’t make it was going to bring his girlfriend that no one likes, but they canceled at the last minute. 

“They’re horrible,” Tony says. “I’m serious. They’re the kind of people that take advantage of old people.” 

“Gross.” 

They gravitate closer to each other. While Natasha doesn’t have a problem with this, it’s bittersweet. Every time Tony casually puts his arm around her and tells another story about how they snuck into the office to match schedules and his family coos and says it’s so cute, and Sharon smiles at them. 

It stings, to be this close and yet knowing that it isn’t at all real. 

Tony lies awake at night. Becuase this is nice. All of his family loves Nat, so does he, and it seems…possible almost. To have her this close, smiling at him like she has. 

So it’s not a good idea, but he goes to her room at three a.m. She’s still awake. 

“Why are you still awake?” 

“Watching funny videos. Why are you awake?” 

“That’s why I’m here. Follow me.” 

They go into the courtyard. It feels…nice outside. Tony’s wringing his hands. 

“What’s got you so nervous?” Natasha asks. “And why at three in the morning?” 

“I think this is literally the only way I could do it,” Tony says. “Only time my family shuts up.” 

“Go for it then,” Natasha says. “You have until four, when your baby cousin wakes up. Lorenzo?” 

“Got it,” Tony says, smiling. “Um, well, I–” 

“What?” 

“Oh fuck,” Tony curses. “Listen, I’m just going to say it. I’m just going to say it.” 

“You’ve said that twice.” 

“Iloveyou.” 

“What?” 

“I…I love you,” Tony says, sighing. “I’ve loved you I think since eighth grade, and I’m now telling you because I don’t think I can just go on with life without telling you. I also realize that you’re stuck at the family reunion until this is over, so now I realize I’ve put stress on you and I’m sorry, I can fake my death if you really want me to, so–” 

Natasha envelops him in a hug. She kisses his cheek, looking at him in the dim light of the lanterns. 

“You absolute fool. I love you too.” 

It’s the first of many “I love you’s.” 

Sharon takes credit for the relationship, and Tony and Nat let her. She’s also the maid of honor and meets her future wife, Maria. 

Tony and Natasha don’t go to the same college, but compete against each other in the trivia clubs that both schools have, and so they spend other time together. Natasha shows him her favorite tea shop downtown, and Tony shows her all of the hideaway spots he uses for studies. 

(And to hide her away from Rhodey, who will tell her anything and everything that’s embarrassing about Tony.) 

Right after college, Tony and Nat move into an apartment. 

About a year later, Natasha holds out a gold ring for him to put on, asks if they really have to get married in a fancy church, and watches as Tony tears up and hugs her. 

“I told you!” Sharon crows when they reveal the rings. “I told you that you would get married!” 

“Okay loser,” Natasha says. “Then you’re the maid-of-honor. Congrats on throwing my bachelorette party.” 

“I’m making us go paint-balling.” 

Tony rolls his eyes, but looks at his now-fiancee. 

Things will be good. Aren’t they always? 

[matildekeizertriestowritethings]

Productivity

Maybe I’ve never been productive. I suppose if you’ve felt guilty about being productive your whole life that’s the only truth that can arise. Maybe I am also under the pressure of a society that equate my output with worth. Maybe I just say that to sound cool in a self-care, anti-capitalist, worth-comes-from-who-you-are sort of way. I don’t remember starting this Tumblr, but the name is self-explanatory. Tries. Not does. Probably nobody will read this text and it is a relief. It is now a text for me, which makes it wholly unnecessary to write and even more enticing! The little voice inside my head now thinks about the impending discovery of my genius, and the excavation of this text in a few years as the past voice of an unfathomable artist! But shut up you little shit. You tend to not be helpful. Sorry, that’s rude, go ahead, I’m just gonna shut you up with some tune. The past few days have gifted me with earworms such as “God save the Queen”, “The Internazionale” and an Italian song about mariners. So if that little voice thinks it’s better than me I’ve got a playlist of unemotional garbage to annihilate it with. 

I am worrying about grammar, and that feels stupid. 

Maybe I should write the thing here, that I want to scream into the world, and publicly post it into the ether where it is certain that most nobody will see it. What the hell kind of structure is that sentence and who do I think I am? Ether. 

I am not alone and I am not lonely, yet I am completely alone. Nobody is like me and nobody will ever be, and maybe it is because I am out of the ordinary, maybe every single person is. Maybe everyone procrastinates in the same endless way, but then why do I keep getting emails? 

Of course as this feels helpful I jump to another tab. Some comedian posts a funny video, a father and daughter spent days planning the recreation of a movie scene that I should recognise but all I think about is how much work that seems to be. So many costumes, so many different parts to memorise! Couldn’t they just re-watch Friends like I do? 

Of course it is not in my interest to showcase my lack of productivity and my procrastination. I am a do-er, a maker, a shaker as they say. But I just don’t do, move or shake myself. I do, move and shake for others. Especially if they pay me, boy do I do, move and shake then. I also want to be one of those strong busy women where you wonder how they found time to buy that corduroy skirt and prepare homemade focaccia. I am that woman. But I also am the person who wakes up at 9:30 with the full knowledge that nothing happens before noon. Not because I am stuck in a ritualistic circle of meditation and chia pudding, but because I think that “coffee in bed” is an activity that warrants 45-60 minutes, and I sure as hell WILL watch your Instagram story about making stock with leftovers because I am trying to find out how you can afford to live on the fourth floor of a beautiful Fort Greene apartment with a terrace. I also like to blame my bed partner, whichever one it may be for needing to sleep longer, or not getting up - that is a hindrance! But you are the hindrance my dear. Because if you started to be active you would have to take responsibility. That’s. No. Fun. 

In conclusion. Productivity is no fun. I will not proof read these, as the only person who will read this is me, and even if others read it, they won’t care! Ultimately when I get discovered for doing nothing and being funny, I will still get the good life grades like I did in school. 

[topfics]

Stay With Me

Harry Styles X Reader

A/N: so this is probably going to be the last part to the sam smith inspired series? Idk i can’t decide if i wanna leave it with a happy ending or with a heartbreaking ending. What do yall think i should do??? Anyways, thank you guys so much for supporting this series, i really hope you enjoy this part. Idk how long it’s gonna be, hopefully longer than the last few parts but here it goes! Let me know what you think!!!!

“Why didn’t you fight for me?” her voice broke Harry’s heart, hearing how torn she was. He could easily tell how much he hurt her. Harry felt like an idiot. Of course he wanted to fight for her, but no words came out of his mouth. He didn’t know why, and every day after he regretted it.

But the line was silent once more. Harry didn’t know what to say now, even in this moment. What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe it was the fact that he had yet another one night stand last night? God, was he awful at it. He was just a man, he still needed love. He need her.

“God, I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have called… bye Harry.” she weeped as she wiped at her eyes on the other end. Just before she could hang the phone up, she heard a familiar voice.

“Y/N, wait.” there was a pause. Harry took in a deep breath before continuing. “Can we go somewhere and talk? In person…?”

Y/N shut her eyes tightly, knowing that seeing her best friend and lover would hurt even after all this time. However, she needed to know. Consolation… that’s what she needed. The answers she wanted… only Harry could give her. And she deserved that much.

“Y/N, are you still there?” he hiccups. She could tell Harry was hurting, too. Scrolling through her social media, she would see pictures of him and how dark the circles under his eyes were. Harry always smiled, showing off that adorable dimple of his. But after she left, that smile faded away into nothingness. Harry looked exhausted, both mentally and physically. Sure, touring did that to him, but everyone knew it was more than just that. He would go out to drink every night after a show had ended, leaving his bandmates to have to drag him away. He slept around way too much for his own good, knowing that he only needed Y/N. That he only wanted Y/N.

“Yeah… I’m still here, H. I just… don’t know if I can see you quite yet.” she admitted. Harry didn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to see him either if he were in her spot. She could hear him sigh on the other side, knowing he was disappointed. After all, she called him, right? He at least deserved something.

A couple beats later, Y/N heard him chuckle. She furrowed her eyebrows, curious at what the hell he could be laughing about at the moment.

“You called me H…” he simply stated. It was something she hadn’t called him in ages. He missed the term of endearment. Harry was smiling slightly to himself, a confirmation to let him know that she still loved and cared for him.

A small smile graced Y/N’s face as well, not even thinking about it when she said it. It came so naturally to her that she never really notices when she does it. However, the smile fades away when reality hits her again. They were still broken up. They weren’t together anymore. She wasn’t sure if she could go through that again.

“Guess I did, huh…?” he could hear a small laugh coming from her sweet lips, the sound making his heart happy and full. Y/N deserved to be happy, and he wanted her to know that.

“Miss your laugh, love. ‘M sorry for everythin’. Really am. Hope you know that.” Harry began. He wasn’t positive where he was going with this. A part of him hoped this would coax her into meeting with him again. Harry need to see her face. He just wanted, no needed her company back in his life.

“Harry… you know I miss you too but I just… can’t. Not right now.”

“I understand, Y/N. Just hope we won’t be like this forever.”

“Me too. I gotta go, Harry.”

And just like that they were alone once more. Harry stared at his phone and sighed to himself, plopping down on his bed. He rubbed his forehead, wondering what he could do to fix this. The more time they were apart from each other, the more empty the both of them felt. Why was this so hard for the both of them? Neither Harry nor Y/N could place why it hurt so bad. They’ve been in relationships before, but nothing could ever match the pain the both of them felt when they separated.

Picking up his phone, he dialled Niall’s number. He didn’t know why he was calling, but he needed to talk to someone.

“What’s up mate?” Niall quickly inquired.

“Nothin’. Jus’ needed to talk to someone.”

“Alrighty well go on then, lad.”

“I miss her. I miss Y/N. Don’t know why it fuckin’ hurts so bad. Never happened before.” Harry sighed deeply. “She called me. I think she was drunk. Asked me why I didn’t fight fo’ her. God, I don’t even know why.”

There was a long pause before Niall began to speak once more.

“Lad… I don’t think you’ve ever been good with words. So, use yer talents, mate. Write or cover a song, sing it. Get it on the radio or somethin’. She will hear it. I’ll make ‘er. Sick of yeh both bein’ all mopey and shite.”

Harry laughs and nods his head a bit, getting up from his bed.

“Yeah… guess you’re right. Thanks, Niall. Let you know when it’s finished.”

“Great. Good luck.”

And with that, the little cogs began to spin in Harry’s head. What could he do to make her understand what it was like to be apart from her? Then, something hit Harry. Why this breakup hurt so much more than the others. It wasn’t because he lost the love of his life, but it was because he lost his best friend in the process. That was worse than any romantic relationship. Losing a best friend was devastating. She was there since the beginning, and he fucked everything up. Even if they would never get back together romantically, he needed her to be his best friend again. That was all he wanted.

Around midnight, Harry heads to the studio, beginning to record what would hopefully become the first part of his apology. He didn’t know how to express his words or feelings, and he was praying that this would help him. He emailed his PR people, asking them to broadcast this worldwide on all radio stations. No matter what, he was determined to have her hear this. Harry then asked them to have the radio hosts announce that this is for Y/N. Harry knows she listens to Nick on BBC One all the time, so he personally called him to ask for the favor himself.

“Hey mate, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Sure mate, what’s up?”

“ ‘m recordin’ somethin’ for Y/N… I know she listens to you every day in the mornin’. Loves your show. I need yeh to play this recording ‘m currently doin’… and say somethin’ like ‘Hope you’re listenin’, Y/N. This one is for you’.”

Nick laughs on the other line, happiness evident in his voice.

“Finally using your talents to do somethin’ about your miserable life after she left, huh? Proud of you. I can do that. Just send it over whenever it’s ready. I got you.”

“Thanks, Nick. Means a lot to me.”

Y/N sat in the library, studying for her final exam of the semester. She was thankful that this could distract her for a bit after her call with Harry. Opening her laptop, she plugs in her headphones, tuning in to Nick’s radio. She begins to hum along to some of the music that’s being played, flipping through pages of her notes. Y/N didn’t notice when the show went silent for a couple minutes.

She paused when Nick began to speak, not in his usual fun tone of voice. It was more serious and she was curious as to what was happening. Pressing the sound button up higher, the background noise was drowned out.

“Alright folks we have something pretty special today… this is a new recording from Mr. Harry Styles himself. A little homage to someone he holds dear to his heart. So… Y/N, if you’re out there listening right now… this one is for you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and it was now racing a million miles a minute. What the hell was he doing? She turned the channel off, playing a local radio station instead, but the message was the same. Had Harry really gone through the trouble of getting all the radio stations she could possibly listen to to play this song he recorded?

Looking down at her phone, a text from Niall popped up.

“Hope yer listenin’ to the radio right now, lad. I heard it last night. It’s a good one. Give it a listen, will ya? Xx”

Y/N sighs softly, going back to BBC One. She didn’t notice the looks that were coming her way, most of the girls touching their heart at how sweet this thing was.

A soft strum of the guitar began to play, and she could hear his sweet voice. She took in a deep breath, missing the times when he would sing her to sleep when she had a bad day.

“So your friend’s been telling me, you’ve been sleeping with my sweater And that you can’t stop missing me Bet my friend’s been telling you I’m not doing much better ‘Cause I’m missing half of me And being here without you is like I’m waking up to Only half a blue sky Kinda there but not quite I’m walking around with just one shoe I’m half a heart without you I’m half a man at best With half an arrow in my chest I miss everything we do I’m half a heart without you.”

Y/N’s eyes began to water, knowing exactly why he chose this song. She missed her best friend. More than anything in the world, all she wanted was to be doing all the little things that they would do on Sundays.

Harry’s voice sounded beautiful, and she could hear the pain in his voice. All the regret and all the hurt that was living within the both of them began to pour out in this cover. Every emotion that was swelling within her seemed to come out all at once. Her heart longed for Harry, she needed him back in his life but she was afraid. Being hurt like that again would kill her. Perhaps she thought it would be easier to forget him, but how can someone simply forget about someone after all those years? After all the memories that were made?

“Forget all we said that night No, it doesn’t even matter 'Cause we both got split in two If you could spare an hour or so We’ll go for lunch down by the river We can really talk it through And being here without you is like I’m waking up to Only half a blue sky Kinda there but not quite I’m walking around with just one shoe I’m half a heart without you I’m half a man at best With half an arrow in my chest 'Cause I miss everything we do I’m half a heart without you Half a heart without you I’m half a heart without you.”

Y/N clutched her chest and lightly cried, grabbing her things to get out of the public area. She ran back to her apartment, shutting the door behind her loudly. Dropping all her things, she lay in bed and closed her eyes, knowing that this needed to be fixed. At least, whatever could be fixed.

“Though I try to get you out of my head The truth is I got lost without you And since then I’ve been waking up to Only half a blue sky Kinda there but not quite I’m walking around with just one shoe I’m half a heart without you I’m half a man at best With half an arrow in my chest I miss everything we do I’m half a heart without you Without you, without you, half a heart without you Without you, without you, I’m half a heart without you.”

The pain of losing a best friend was never easy. In fact, it was the worst pain either of them had felt in a long time. It wasn’t the kisses that they missed, it was all the movie nights, the lazy days, the shopping. It was everything. She missed the way she could talk to Harry about anything without being judged. She missed the days when he would just sing to her when she had a shitty day, the way he would laugh when she told a bad joke. It was the little things that were getting to her. She missed them. The way they used to be.

Y/N takes the earbuds out of her ears, laying on her bed for a couple more hours, just staring at the ceiling. It was getting late, but she couldn’t focus on studying for her final. But she knew she had to. Dragging herself out of bed, she goes to her desk and turns on the lamp, finally getting back to studying. It was going to be a late night for her.

Niall looks over at Harry as he paces back and forth in his trailer.

“Do you think she heard it?” he asked, worry filling his voice. “I just… she hasn’t messaged me or anythin’ and ‘m wondering if it wasn’t enough. Maybe she just didn’t hear it…”

Niall sighs and grabs Harry by the shoulders.

“Calm down, lad. ‘M sure she heard it. Maybe she’s just processin’. Ya know that cheesy quote that’s like… if yeh love ‘em let ‘em go, and if they come back yer meant to be together? Well perhaps that’s what’s ‘appenin’. Things will fall into place, mate. Stop yer worryin’. It ain’t gonna do yeh any good. Give yeh white hairs for all ‘m concerned.”

Harry simply glares at Niall and sighs deeply.

“Still… maybe I fucked up so bad that even this won’t help. I mean… what was I expectin’? That she would come runnin’ back into me arms? Guess I was hopin’ really…”

‘Harry. Things are gonna work out the way they’re supposed to. That, I can promise you.”

Harry nods and runs a hand through his hair, grabbing a pillow next to him with his free hand.

“Why am I so emotional? Really not a good look is it…?”

“Depends on the situation, I guess. Just… gain some self control for now, yeah?”

Harry groans and lays on the ground, screaming into the pillow.

A couple days later, Y/N is holding her phone, staring at Harry’s number. Should she call him? What would she even say if she did? She shakes her head and throws it back on her pillow, pacing back and forth. It was near 1 am. He probably wouldn’t even be awake. Y/N wasn’t even sure why she was awake. Though she had to admit, the past couple of nights were hard for her to sleep at all. The only thing she could think of was Harry.

She was surprised when there was a knock on the door. Maybe her roommate had left something? Y/N sighs and walks to the door, opening it. Her mouth drops when she sees Harry there, leaning against her door frame.

“ ‘m surprised you actually answered.” he slurred.

Y/N furrows her brows and folds her arms, in a sense that she was trying to protect herself.

“Harry… are you drunk…? At this hour?” she asks, a little worried about what could’ve happened to him as he was making his way over here. She knew he couldn’t make it back to his trailer while he was this tipsy.

“Just a little bit, don’t worry, love. Jus’ need to talk to yeh.”

Y/N pursed her lips but nods slightly, stepping aside to allow Harry into her flat.

“Do you need water?” she asks quietly. Harry shakes his head no and walks over to her, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“I miss you. So fuckin’ much it’s drivin’ me insane.” Harry begins. Y/N tries to stop him from going any further but to no avail.

“Harry, you’re drunk you aren’t even going to remember what you sai-”

“No, I know ‘ve been stupid. Know I fucked up. Don’t care if yeh never want to get back together with me, but… I need my best friend back. I don’t care if we aren’t in a relationship, all I know is that I need to ‘ave you in my life. Even it it’s just as a friend. Miss the late night conversations, the weird text messages, even the damn tampon runs you would make me go on when you were out. I miss our movie nights, our lazy Sundays, our treehouse sleepovers… miss us. Hurts so much…” tears begin to fall from Harry’s eyes, and instantly, Y/N knows that he’s being genuine.

“H…” she walks over to him and helps him up from the chair, laying him down on her bed.

“Will yeh lay with me…? So it doesn’t hurt so much? Will yeh just… stay with me tonight?”

Y/N frowns but agrees. She climbs behind him, spreading her legs around his body, pulling his large frame up so his head was resting on her chest. He was sobbing now, and she couldn’t help but shed a few tears as well. She scratches his head and hums softly, hoping that he would fall asleep soon. She didn’t like seeing him this way.

Harry wipes at his eyes and gets up from his position, looking at her with desperate eyes. He scoots over and pats the area next to him, wanting her to hold him like they used to. Y/N shifts her position and lays down next to him, holding him from behind. Harry always did like being the little spoon.

Harry reaches and intertwines their fingers together, the two of them falling asleep in each other’s arms.

This was all they needed to know things would be okay.

[msawesomeworld]

Royalty not loyalty Chapter 12

A/N: I am inspired to write this apparently. So I am not gonna waste it and post it. Seeing as these come in like once every full moon or something. So enjoy <3

Read the other chapters here.

“Love is a poison. A sweet poison, but it kills you none the less.” - George R. R. Martin

I woke up the next morning with a killer headache and a bit of a heartache still. The ladder I had gotten used to. When you lose someone like that you get used to having days where you get sad about it, sometimes for no obvious reason.

I got up and removed the make up from the night before. I was very tried but I still needed to be presentable. What would my mother say if she had seen me with last nights make up on? I applied a new natural layer to my face, ensuring that I looked as perfect as I aspired to be. I packed it up and started gathering all the rest of my things. I had just zipped the suitcase when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I yelled and in walked Skylar and Robert smiling at me widely.

“We are leaving now, just wanted to say goodbye.” Skylar said walking over to me giving me a big hug.

She was followed by Robert who also hugged me. We had talked a little every now and then, he was pretty cool. Robert left to go load their car but Skylar stayed with me.

“Skype or call me if you need anything alright? God knows your wardrobe could use an update.” She said and I chuckled at her shaking my head.

“Not that there is anything wrong with your style, but you have a body, that needs showing off. Which honey you are not doing.” She said and I chuckled hugging her again.

I liked her a lot. She was practically a polar opposite to me, but I liked that. I kind of think I needed that. Someone to tell me to go out of my comfort zone. Chris used to do that too. We pulled away and she smiled widely at me.

“Remember to say yes a little more okay?” She said and I smiled kindly at her and nodded.

That was not gonna happen, but nothing wrong with saying that I was gonna try. I knew what was gonna happen once I got back to school. I would have my minions doing all of my dirty work for me. I would go back to being the untouchable, conservative and perfect me. That is how I was raised and that was just who I was. End of discussion.

Rian came and told me it was time to go a little while after that. I gathered up my things and left the room. We met Victoria and Louis on the way out and hugged both of them goodbye too. There was a very sad expression on Louis face. Which I probably should do something about, I would have to work with him a lot over the next few years. So it would probably be good to clear the air. I was too tired and hungover to be bothered with it though. Maybe I would write him an e-mail to clear the air or something.

I was gonna miss the girls though. Luckily I did have Rian back with me which was a nice comfort. Also a little strange having someone near me I had known before we were royal. Yet also someone who now knew a lot of intimate details about me and I knew the same about him. He was a sweet guy though so I figured it would not be too big of a deal.

Still it is weird having a friend that actually knows things about you and your life. Maybe that is what it is like to have true friends. I mean I did like the girls and all but they were in the end just means to an end. I would never share any of those things with any of them.

When we got back to our beautiful campus we hugged goodbye and went to our separate dorms. I lived in a flat with Katelyn and he lived across town in a small apartment. I spent the rest of the day unpacking and trying to get some rest. The girls however wanted to know everything about my trip. I shared a little with them but left the rest to be between us royals.

It took a lot of convincing but after a lot of a fight I got them to leave me alone. I was finally able to sleep my hangover off.

From there things started going back to normal. I went to my classes did my work and most people was scared to talk to me. Just how I liked them to be. Intimidated is a better word than scared. When the weekend came I had to go to a stupid frat party. I hated going to them, but the girls always begged me. I never saw the point of begging me to go. I was gonna stay sober throughout them anyway. I could not risk any of those people seeing me intoxicated, can you imagine the scandal?

I got all dressed up and ready to go. Kathlyn helped me get ready and I returned the favor. She was the only person on this campus beside Rian I actually liked. The rest were just mindless tools. The party was a great example of that. All of these people desperate to fit in even though it does not matter. It does not matter who you befriend in college. It does not change your social status just because you go the parties. Everything about them is pointless.

But the rest of the world did not know that. Because they were not crowned sculls.

While there were some conspiracy theories it was still a completely secret organization. You had to be invited to apply to get in. It was for the elite and the elite only, the people who truly ruled this world. At their parties it did matter how you were perceived, and who you became friends with. Here you were just making friends without getting any benefits.

I stood around for a long time sipping my water just observing these desperate individuals. It was a little boring seeing their mating rituals. I was also a little jealous of them.

They got to act out, they got to let lose and have fun. I could never do that here, or anywhere else for that matter. The only place where I could truly express how I feel is in the confines of my own home. They got to make friends with people they liked, maybe they had all of the same interests or something. They might have struggled through life, having to work hard to get into this school. I had too but not in the same way. If it had not been for my family someone else might have deserved this spot more than I did. They did not have to worry about image or anything else. They just had to worry about school and being popular. It must be nice to be them, having such easy lives in that sense. Their families were probably so proud when they got into Yale. My parents barely blinked when I got in here. It was tradition, how could I not be accepted? They probably loved their parents and called them regularly to tell them how they were doing here. I was envious. Money does not buy happiness that is for sure. They had parents that loved them, while mine could do nothing but school me on my every flaw.

I was knocked out of my thoughts when a drunk frat boy put his arm around me and slurred something. I was disgusted and pushed him off of me. I groaned and left the party, I did not feel like it anymore.

I got back to my dorm room with nothing to do really. I had done all of my school work before going out.

I changed into some comfortable clothes and decided to check my to do list.

I looked it over and sighed, I then picked up my laptop and my email.

Dear Louis

I’m sorry I was such a bitch. You bring that out in me, when pity me.

You scolded me for not trusting you, but I know you were just playing a game, so you can ditch the act. You do not care about me, you just want some dirt to use against me. I understand, I do the same all the time.

I stopped to read it and deleted it. I sounded like an even bigger bitch. I sighed and tried writing again. This time it was way too formal, like I was writing to a colleague. I deleted again and stared at the black e-mail again. I got frustrated and started writing again.

Dear Louis 
I am sorry for acting as I did at the lake house. I am immature and pandered so much into this world, that I do not think I can ever trust anyone. This world is so fucked up and manipulating, I cannot help but think that everyone is exactly like me. I am not gonna lie, I am gonna continue to be a stuck up bitch, who hides her every emotion. Let us face it, old habits die hard. I have this need to be perfect and that is the best way to do it. I hate you because you do not do that. You never pretend that you are perfect and you see right through me with that. Because you know it is not real. It is so much easier to not feel anything.

I do not even know why I am telling you all of this. I am not going to, I am going to delete this email and write you a proper one. Because I have no real motive to apologize to you other than the fact that I know we are gonna have to work together in the future. I like you, but I do not know you, and you will never truly know me. So it seems stupid to tell you anything at all.

Stella.

I read it over and stared at it. This was the truth, but it kind of scared me. That this was who I am. I knew I was the stuck up bitch who was taught to hide all of her feelings. Because feelings might as well be imperfections. However it is easier to live with when it is not thrown in your face.

I went to delete it but accidentally sent it. My eyes widened. That was not supposed to happen. He was never supposed to read any of that. That was an entire page full of weakness, that he could definitely use against me or expose. If he did not have anything on me now, he definitely had now. I closed the laptop and felt like crying. I was so stupid. Had my mother taught me nothing? I should never have even written that. Never write down anything that can be used against you.

I was so stupid.

I went to bed trying to just forget the whole incident. I could not sleep I was way too nervous to do so. I grabbed the tin box I always had near me and left my room. I went to the roof, it was cold up there. I liked the sensation of wind on my skin. I sat on the edge and lit up the cigarette taking a drag. I blew out the smoke and smiled a little. This was nice and relaxing in. I looked out on the campus. It looked nice and quiet on this time of day. There was distant music from parties, but looking out on the campus it was nicely peaceful. I took a few relaxing drags, before turning it off and putting the rest back in the box. I did not feel like moving yet so I just stayed put for a little while.

I liked it up here. It felt like the rest of the world was allowed to move forward and I could just sit still for a little while and watch it all. I knew I that I would never truly be apart of it. I could never let myself.

I would never experience a one night stand or the excitement of a first love. The heartache of a heartbreak, having a relaxed day in sweats.

I would never experience any of that. I was too detached for that. Too obsessed with being perfect for that.

I would have to experience the world without any attachment and observe it. 
I would never really love anyone. I would never be truly happy. I would always just be.

A/N: That was it, if you cant wait for more, read my other fics here.