#honestly LISTEN TO THE SONG IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!!

[iwozlegit]

|| 🍍• Just saw someone mention this on tiktok…

…but a perfect song for Huskerdust would be Evermore by Dan Stevens from the live-action Beauty and the Beast.

Every lyric HITS

• It’s giving Husk being so incredibly proud of Angel getting to go to heaven.

• BUT, it’s also giving Husk “waiting by an open door” at the hotel’s bar alone fooling himself that Angel will “walk right in” and unwind with him at his bar like old times, as Husk stares forlorn into a drink with another he’s made beside him out of habit.

• It’s giving Husk seeing the ghosts of him and Angel around him like snapshots in time - angry, then wistful, then content, then irritated again. Closing his eyes but Angel is “…still there.”

• It’s giving Husk clawing his head at the memories so blissful yet almost painful to witness, as he slowly begins to realise what the hollowness he’s feeling actually is.

• It’s giving Husk slowly filling with understanding, warmth and vigour, embracing this newfound discovery as he hops over the bar and moves through the hotel with a pace we’ve never seen before towards the roof. He has to see the sky. He has to get as close to it as his chains permit to. To see the faint pearly gates of heaven. To…make use of the small time he has left. Because even though Husk knows Angel has “flown far beyond” his “reach…he’s never out of sight.”

• It’s giving Husk atop the hotel with his face dropping slightly as he sees Angel “…fade from view”, thinking “…of what might have been” if he hadn’t “realised the truth too late.”

• It’s giving Husk then braving a sad smile with hand outstretched to the sky where a phantom Angel rests his cheek against Husk’s palm, and they share a tender dance akin to Loser, Baby with a twirl and dip. And “As the long dark nights draw in”, Husk accepts his feelings, that Angel will always “be part of everything” he is…

…as he sings FOR EVERMORE atop the highest peak of the hotel.

For, oh, how lovely it was - albeit short - to have gained the ability to love again, than to have never regained it at all…

And, I…

FUCK, I need a minute :’)…

SONG LINK

[luciawithoutj]

Me when Bluza bridge:

[lzrdprsn]

It's really weird when you know someone in a context different from how everybody else knows them so you look at them and you still kind of see that person they used to be

[lewisvinga]

so high school | max verstappen x fem! singer! reader

summary; in which max feels like a sixteen year old in high school whenever he’s around y/n

word count; 976

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; requested ! i dont listen to taylor swift so im not familiar w this song, but i hope this is good enough!😫 n so sorry this took a bit longer than usual, a lot of things happened in my life rn + i’ve had major writers block 🙁

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

i just want to find you in a crowd just to hide from you

Max stood at the podium with a proud smile on his face. Another race won another race closer to being the world champion. The sound of his nation’s national anthem filled his ears as his hands found their way through his blonde locks.

His bright eyes scanned the crowd searching for her.

The start of the season was always a grand event. Drivers often brought their girlfriends along with them to enjoy a sunny Bahrain and the beginning of the season. When the first race of the season came around, Max couldn’t help but ask his girlfriend of just a few months and a world-famous singer to accompany him.

He thought it was a good idea. He really did.

However, the second his eyes landed on her wide smile from the top of the podium, he felt his heart skip a beat. She stared at him with so much love in her eyes that he became flustered. His cheeks began burning up and he secretly hoped and prayed that others would think his rosy cheeks were from the bright sun.

He had to hold back a laugh, a giggle even. Max Verstappen, The Max Verstappen, giggling and blushing over a girl that was already his? It was unheard of. He knew if he kept staring his cheeks would be too red to be just from the sun.

As quickly as his eyes found her, he looked away and instead focused on calming down his heart rate.

i’ll drink what you think and i’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night

Max was always the type to drink his coffee black. No cream. No sugar. That changed the moment he started dating Y/n and learned about her addiction to a milky and very sweet iced vanilla latte.

She claimed it helped her and her melodic voice that he adored so much.

It was another late-night session in the studio and the Dutch driver had brought over two iced vanilla lattes, one with just a little less sugar than the other.

He honestly hated the sugary milky beverage. He could barely stand a sip but he refused to tell Y/n that. He only drinks the vanilla iced lattes because he loved to see her face light up whenever he’d give her the rest of his drink because he ‘didn’t want to finish it’.

“Here, have the rest of mine. I don’t want it.” Max said with a chuckle as he noticed her pout after she finished her own.

“Are you sure, Maxie?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Here.”

Y/n laughed and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a pink lipgloss mark. Max couldn’t help but laugh with her as she happily took his drink.

She sat down across from him on the couch in the studio. She began to tell him a story about something that happened to her and Lando days prior. He honestly wasn’t focusing much on the story. His focus was 100% on the smile on her face and the laughs she’d let out every other sentence.

If her laugh was a drug, he’d sure be high every second of the day. Hearing her laugh was an addiction to him. He adored it and if forcing himself to drink a sugary ice vanilla latte to accompany her during studio sessions just to hear her laugh, he’d do it without a problem.

the brink of a wrinkle in time, bittersweet sixteen suddenly.

Y/n let out a yawn as she walked down the halls of her and Max’s shared home. She needed a break from writing songs. Her mind was blank and she couldn’t think. The iced vanilla lattes weren’t helping her creativity flow and neither Jimmy nor Sassy helped.

She was walking towards Max’s gaming room where she knew he’d be on the simulator. She suddenly heard him say her name and she stopped right outside the slightly open door.

“No, yeah, Y/n and I are great. It’s just-“

“Just, what?” She recognized Charles's voice and his laugh.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me! I won’t tell a soul.”

“No, it’s stupid.”

“C’mon, Max.”

Y/n furrowed up her eyebrows as her heart rate began to pick up. She immediately assumed the worst. Did Max cheat on her? Did he no longer want to be in a relationship with her? Did she annoy him?

She bit her nails as she anxiously waited for his response.

Max sighed, running his hands through his blonde locks. “It’s just that I feel like I’m a teenage boy in high school around her. She makes me flustered, like actually flustered. It’s like I’m sixteen again!”

Y/n almost let out a sigh of relief from his words, but kept quiet as she knew that he would hear her. She quietly yet quickly walks away. She finds herself back in the living room with her notebook in hand. She began scribbling across the page, finally getting the creativity she needed to write the last song for her album.

She hums in satisfaction as she finishes off the song. ‘So High School’ she had scribbled at the top of the page. Right as if it were on queue, she hears Max’s voice.

“Any luck with songwriting?” The Dutch driver curiously asks, sitting beside her on the couch.

“In fact, I’ve had plenty of luck.”

“Let me see.” He mumbled, his hand reaching towards the book.

“No!”

“C’mon, schat! Let me see!”

Y/n quickly kissed his cheek in an attempt to distract him. Fortunately for her, it did. His cheeks began to turn a rosy shade of pink. He rolled his eyes, moving his attention from the notebook to Sassy who found her way to the couch.

She had to hold back a laugh as she noticed his ears also turning pink. He really was like a 16-year-old in high school.

[byooregard]

iwtv universe dashboard simulator

girlmand reblogged

😶‍🌫️gaysexinthecity Follow

not saying vampires are real but i think Daniel Molloy gets way too much shit . like if i was a pulitzer prize winning journalist in my seventies and some guy called me and was like im a vampire want an interview i wouldn't hesitate either. fuck man sure tell me about being a vampire. i'll believe you

🎆 magical-swiftie

reading Interview with the Vampire rn and Claudia and Madeline are sooo Long Face core

#now that i think of it a lot of tvl's songs fit this book really well #like #'she gave me life I gave her death'??? # that's so them!!!

🏞️ girlblogg1ng

btw if you're still listening to the vampire lestat, unfollow me now. and like, seriously consider why you're giving plays to a guy who appropriates ancient egyptian history for his vampire schtick, it's honestly sickening

#the vampire lestat #tvl #maintagging because people need to see this honestly #.txt

🌄sampire

keep seeing ppl try to cancel tvl for things hes said to his fans or how he talks about ancient egyptian mythology and not that song where he talks about fucking his mother. like im not crazy right he wrote a whole song about how he fucked his mother

💟 stingorarr

"we are your children/but what do you give us/is your silence/a better gift than the truth?" sounds like it should be some ancient Greek poetry but it's literally in a song by the vampire lestat!!!

it just hits so hard... like your parents gave you nothing but maybe the truth would be more unbearable than silence...

#tvl #the vampire lestat #twmbk #those who must be kept

sampire reblogged danielmxllxy

🌫️ beatlesrpf Follow

please tell me you guys arent serious about the vampire lestat. please tell me youre not stanning a man who wrote "im an actor in my makeup, i get fatter when we break up"

#guys please #this is worse than the tortured poets department

🤖 carrieblogging Follow

Based on your likes!

Hey, Tumblr, I need a little help here?

So, my best friend has been acting a little weird lately. Like, his sleep schedule has gotten really strange (stranger than normal 😅), and I haven't seen him without sunglasses on in a week?

His diet has changed, too, like he used to always be snacking whenever I'd call him, but now he doesn't eat anything that I can see.

He even cancelled our tickets to ComicCon!! I've been waiting to meet up with him for years, and now he's just bailed on me?!? I'm mad, but honestly more worried than anything....

#carrie speaks

🌌 marbellina124

guys I think I've found the vampire Armand at the MET 😏😂

#it doesn't match the dates from the book so like #yeah #but imagine.... #parisian mutuals you have a power that can be used

interview-with-the-glampire reblogged wormyworms

🪱 wormyworms Follow

mmm tbh the only reason i *don't* believe vampires are real is because if *i* was interviewing two vampires to write a book about their life? i would not be leaving that house without their fangs in my neck and eternal life. just saying

🌇 interview-with-the-glampire

understandable but have you considered. if I went to interview two vampires and got immortality and vampire sex out of that deal I wouldn't go around letting everyone know :/

danielmxllxy reblogged sampire

🌌 marbellina124

so were all in agreement he fucked that vampire right

#oh I think he fucked AT LEAST two of those vampires #iwtv #rb

[solsays]

Lifers x Crane Wives

I saw someone comment on a life series TikTok or something to try and pair all of the lifers to a crane wives song, without repeating songs. so obviously I spent an hour doing it

Grian—Tongues & Teeth (self explanatory if you’ve EVER heard this song)

Scar—Steady, Steady (this whole song is about how their partner is walking out but they still want to be “wild and free” which is just SO Scar coded)

Tango—Ancient History (he keeps teaming up with Skizz and I feel like this song vibes with that, it also just feels very Tango)

Skizz—Icarus (this man always gives himself up for his teammates I swear, and he fuels them to keep going. It also says “oh brother, brother” which feels like Skizz talking to any of his teammates to me)

Impulse—Allies or Enemies (Impulse has been very iffy on a lot of his alliances throughout the seasons, especially in third life and with the amount of playing all sides that man has done this songs feels right)

Cleo—The Glacier House (this. this is literally just her leaving Fairy Fort. The song is talking to/about her from probably Lizzie’s perspective, but like the last line is 100% as if Cleo was speaking)

Bdubs—Unraveling (Bdubs relies so heavily on his teammates, and when he doesn’t have that stability *cough* Etho *cough* he just kinda doesn’t know what to do so this song fits)

Mumbo—Keep You Safe (this man is by no means an aggressive/reckless player [see: Joel or Martyn] and he feels like he’s just here for the vibes and honestly? Love that for him. This song is about fear not keeping you safe and watching your friends run high risks, which just is very accurate to how Mumbo plays this series. I also feel like he could fit Rockslide when he goes red cause he goes from standstill to “drop dead sprint” in terms of aggression)

Lizzie—Shallow River/New Colors (Lizzie is the only one I put as two because both of these songs are just so fitting. Shallow river—“wasted all for the title, wasted all for the crown” reminds me of Lizzie trying to kill Scott and ending up dying herself instead. I also feel like parts of it could be dead Lizzie talking to Joel, the only person who is really mourning her. New Colors—“don't tell me that I can't, I need this“ and “I give up my air, to breathe” also feel very accurate with how she is trying so hard and just keeps failing )

Jimmy—Canary in a Coal Mine (no further context needed, we all know Timmy)

Scott—Little Soldiers (this is very flower husbands, but also just feels like Scott looking back on the last seasons including Pearl, Jimmy, Martyn, all his reluctant exes. Also this man is the watchers’ like least favorite person ever and this gives that vibe)

Pearl—Ribs (i changed this from New Discovery because Ribs is entirely about somewhat angrily protecting and helping yourself because nobody else would, and it really strikes me as Pearl with the some things having been good (Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss) and some being bad (divorce quartet))

BigB—Not the Ghost (this man is so incredibly odd, he just constantly feels like he is being haunted by the watchers and just going about his life, he is the human personification of gaslight and we love that for him)

Martyn—The Hand That Feeds (he HATES the watchers with every ounce of his being, and with Ren gone I think this guy’s only purpose is just to spite them)

Joel—Sleeping Giants (go listen to it. That’s all there is to it, it just feels very Joel-ish, this lad is absolutely fucking mental)

Ren—Once & for All (this song feels like war and being betrayed, and Ren has been betrayed so much so it just fits. I mean come on “my blood’s forever on your hands” tell me that isn’t 100% something Ren would say)

Gem—Show Your Fangs (Girlboss moment, we love Geminislay. This woman is not someone to be underestimated and this song very clearly says that so it’s very Gem in my head. She doesn’t have enough lore yet to make it angsty but ONE DAY)

Etho—Never Love An Anchor (I can’t explain it, this song just has Etho vibes. I mean “It’s a secret I keep tucked inside my chest” just seems very him, I can’t really tell you why)

[ghostfacd]

YOU PUT THE BALLAD IN THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which yn takes her career to the next level and drops a few bangers that left everyone in awe

installment of this au (recommend reading for context !!)

ynuser guys. a lil secret i’ve been holding onto for my dear life that not even my bf knows, i wrote a song for tbosas!! you’ll definitely hear it after the movie’s over and the credits starts rolling. a fun, challenging, and exciting experience and i really really felt like i outdone myself so hopefully you guys like it as much as i do 🥹 (p.s first photo is when tom and i listened to it for the first time together and he was just in awe)

view all comments

tomblyth i love you my talented songbird !!

➥ user1 time to cry he called her his songbird

➥ user2 this is a sign that i should probably move on from tom blyth.. 😔

user3 just listened to it, it was absolutely amazing. yn stays changing lives

user4 YOU’RE SO TALENTEDDD

rachezegler lucy gray irl

➥ ynuser stopp ily

conangray YN AVOCOT, I LOVE YOU! - your #2 supporter (because tom insisted on being #1)

➥ tomblyth damn right i’m #1

user5 the second pic of her and tom 🥹🥹

user6 conan and yn r the best friends we needed

user7 her life seems so fun omg im jealous

ynuser oops.. another secret?

view all comments

rachelzegler YN.

rachelzegler NOT TELLING UR OWN BEST FRIEND ABOUT IT?

➥ conangray stealing my title?? 😡😡

➥ ynuser you both are my best friends!

➥ tomblyth i thought i was your best friend?

user8 not the best friend argument 🫢

user9 GIRLL IM SO EXCITED FOR THE ALBUM

user10 she can act, she can sing, what else can’t she do?

user11 GUTS!

tomblyth hi guys! as you all know, my amazing girlfriend just released her first album — GUTS! it’s honestly such an amazing album with songs that yn has held super close to her heart. I would love it if you guys supported her because she honestly deserves the world. YN, I’m so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend.

tagged @/ynuser

view all comments

ynuser tom. im crying.

➥ rachelzegler can confirm, she’s in tears rn

user12 i am so grateful that they met each other because they make each other so happy 😓

user13 he bought her cd and album 😭😭 i need a bf like tom

user14 “i am so incredibly proud to be your boyfriend” get married already cause wow.

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS WITH A WITCH BEAUTY GF

Requested by @lovely-star

A/N: I recommend listening to the song to get that vibe 💕

Warning: the classic lore

Ft. The riddles, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, && Lorenzo Berkshire

Tom Riddle

Tom, being the future dark lord soon. Was in love with how dark and beautiful you were. The way your low eyes held power, you were perfect in Slytherin.

Your cackle, your power, it satisfied him to the deepest. He knew he had to court you, make you his bride. Make you his.

And when he did make you his, you smiled that crooked smile that made him smile. His charming grin matching yours.

It was a match made in the wizarding world.

Or a dark match made in the world itself.

Mattheo Riddle

You were strange in his opinion. Most people called you “strange girl” because of how strange and deranged you were.

But Mattheo riddle liked a bit of danger in his life. So he took the chance to know you and it hit off perfectly. He soon learned that your magic abilities were more different than the others.

It was dark. Pure dark energy coming from you every time you used your wand. He felt a pull towards you and your beauty. Your low eyes and smile that seem to held an alluring expression just made his heart swell.

He couldn’t believe that you were soon his girlfriend.

Draco Malfoy

Honestly was scared of you because you reminded him of “someone”. But he couldn’t help but love for how you treated him differently than others.

You could read him like a book, read him as if you were seeing his soul. He hated how you got involved mostly. Making you also a death eater. But you still didn’t break your beautiful crooked smile. And he was just glad he didn’t have to kill you

Now you two were stuck together in this mess.

Theodore Nott

With you two, almost half of Hogwarts is in-love with you both.

You two are literally the most beautiful couple together. Some people want to be you, or be him. They can’t decide. It’s terrible.

Your dark and mysterious beauty makes him melt a bit at how hot you are when putting someone in their place.

Sometimes he can’t handle your dark humor…but that’s okay. He can fix you 🙋‍♀️

Lorenzo Berkshire

“I can fix her.”

Literally says that as you’re bullying someone while looking like the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world.

And surprisingly he did fix you, you stopped being a mean girl towards others and only laughed at things you see from afar that are kinda unsettling.

Hogwarts is shocked to see the dark witch smile warmly like the bright evening sun towards the Slytherin boy who changed her.

[81folklore]

because i liked a boy - LN4

pairing: lando norris x ex!singer reader (fc: madison beer)

summary: after months of excessive and unnecessary hate you release a song to tell your side of the story

authors note: i decided to create a character for this, isla, you never see her just in this situation she is ‘olivia’. isla is famous in this but not a singer!! i will NEVER forget the way i felt when i listened to this song for the first time,, enjoy!!

authors note 2: i honestly hate this so much but ive had no motivation so i just pulled this out of the depths. i literally have no clue on what i want to do next so i might just be doing silly filler things until i figure it out🫠

warnings: death threats!! basically anything mentioned in because i liked a boy

masterlist part 2

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, charlottesine and 2,264,628 others

<3333

view comments

user7 stop teasingggg😭we need the new music

user10 starving for new music

user31 slut!!

user15 leave!!!

user63 wait why are people hating on her? what did i miss??

user5 isla did an interview talking about why her and lando broke up and shaded yn for ‘breaking them up’, basically calling yn the other woman

user7 but also nothing has been confirmed by lando or yn plus lando and yn been broken up for like 10 months so i dont really understand why its getting brought up now

alex_albon new music soon🫣

yourusername lily i know its you😭

alex_albon 😁😁

lando.jpg

liked by tombale46, maxfewtrell and 181,642 others

Day 34. i <3 chicken quesadillas

view comments

user17 we love this content

user8 looks tasty, food looks good too!!

user82 remember that stream where lando and yn made quesadillas while they listened to black eyed peas?

user2 yes!! i loved that stream so much :’)

user103 why would you get with a homewrecker??

user6 yn is such a slut

user7 why are you guys bringing up yn? not only that why are you only blaming yn??

yourusername

liked by kit.connor, theofficialfng and 2,836,605 others

but ill always be your favorite 🫧

view comments

user10 music lyric??

user81 NEW MUSIC?? SOON?? PLEASE??

user73 yall love supporting a rebound🥱

user90 k1ll yourself!!

user83 no one cares

user6 jesus the sluts back

user14 yall love to say your hate her and yet here you are..being obsessed

yourusername

liked by clementnovalak, lilymhe and 3,352,821 others

thank you. thank you so so much. i truly cannot express the love i felt tonight when singing my new song. thank you from the bottom of my heart❤️‍🩹

view comments

user10 oh im in love with you

user16 you are so special to me

user82 hearing this live healed me :’)

yourusername 🫶🫶

user66 this song just changed my life

user73 i hope everyone shuts the fuck up now..

user99 you never deserved this, we love you so much☹️

landonorris added to their story

[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Can I request something similar to your latest Lewis smau except y/n is Toto's daughter? It's controversial because she's younger, you know the drill

Sure!! <3 For this one I made Y/n a singer

Btw the song in this fic is made up lol

username1 She's PRECIOUS

username2 Y/n is so me

username3 Honestly that's so reletable

username4 I swear this girl will pet any creature she can, how isn't she scared of catching some disease?

↳username1 Have you ever heard of water? Is the concept of washing your hands familiar to you?

username5 Oh to be a cat pet by Y/n Wolff...

username6 A rich girl petting strays... Imagine how much of a better place the world would be if she put the same energy into some charity work

↳username7 Y/n is known for doing charity work when it comes to animals. Pretty sure some % of her earnings goes to several pet charities, organizations. Not to mention she's been vegan for a few years now

↳username8 Wow immagine if you did your research before commenting

↳username9 i love how Y/n was born into the rich life but has always been humble and used her money to help others

username10 Literally she gets a lot of hate for being a daughter of a billionaire like okay next time she'll choose to be born poor lmao

username11 exactly!! there's a difference between flexing on daddy's money and using your daddy's money for good causes

username9 pretty sure she makes her own money now;)

y/n_wolff Busy day at work 😋 look who I bumped into on the way to the studio!!

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georgerussell63 Look at you finally doing some work

↳y/n_wolff Don't worry, soon I'm back at my 2nd job (I just hang around the paddock looking all pretty and stuff)

georgerussell63 No, thank you ❤️ we don't miss you

lewishamilton Speak for yourself George, Roscoe likes when Y/n babysits him

y/n_wolff Roscoe is the only one who understands me for real 😭

roscoelovescoco Petition for an invitation next time you go to the studio

↳y/n_wolff I swear I sent one, it must've got lost on the way 🥹 the pigeon dropped it or something

roscoelovescoco Still using pigeons? That's not very vegan of you...

y/n_wolff Hey! I pay them, alright? If they didn't want to, they wouldn't do this job...

y/n_wolff (hey everyone this is a joke obv)

username3 Imagine what will happen when the haters see this comment section lol

mercedesamgf1 Can't wait to hear it ❤️

↳y/n_wolff 🫶

oscarpiastri Look at that last pic of Y/n with Lando

↳landonorris fuck you if I was an animal i wouldn't be a cat

y/n_wolff Right, you'd be a worm.

landonorris would you guys still love me if I was a worm?

oscarpiastri No

y/n_wolff No

username1 May this be a love song 🤞I need to her one from Y/n after her terrible breakup last year

↳username2 She had a boyfriend last year??

username1 Yeah, we don't know anything about him besides the fact that he broke her heart... Poor girl deserves some true love

username2 Was it a driver?

username1 I highly doubt it, they wouldn't be able to keep it so private

alex_albon Pls make it singable on track

↳y/n_wolff 😬 well...

alex_albon Y/n...

y/n_wolff It's a love song...

username4 SHE ADMITTED!! IT'S A LOVE SONG!!

↳username5 Our girl is in love again 😭

username4 I just hope he treats her better than her ex. Otherwise imma need to talk to him

maxverstappen1 If you like cats so much you should come over sometime

↳username4 Cats rizz 💀

↳username2 No cuz Max has had a crush on Y/n for so long now and I'd love to see them together

↳y/n_wolff You're a few weeks too late 😂🙈

username3 EXCUSE ME I NEED TO KNOW WHO THE MAN IS

username5 Me too, I just wanna talk... *cracking fingers*

y/n_wolff The one I prayed for out now, let me know your thoughts 🩷🕊️

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georgerussell63 Since when are you so religious?🤨

↳y/n_wolff He changed me ❤️

oscarpiastri Great, another song Lando will make me unwillingly listen to

↳y/n_wolff You love my music, don't lie

landonorris yes he does

oscarpiastri Alright, I know a few songs

y/n_wolff A few songs my ass, I saw that iconic interview where you and Lando sing my songs

landonorris he will never admit it but he was a fan YEARS before he got into f1 and met you

y/n_wolff Not like I stalk his Twitter but I saw a post from 2019 about me, it had like 5 likes and Oscar was one of them lmao

landonorris i knew you had daddy issues but are you okay?

↳y/n_wolff Yeah why?? Wtf??

landonorris well after hearing this song I'm not

username1 "They may judge the age we are, the differences they see, but love knows not of boundaries, it only seeks to be free" MY GIRL IS A POET 😭

username2 I'm not ready to meet this man after hearing "He's walked through fire, faced his fears, but in his heart, there's room for tears" 😭

carmenmmundt Truly in love with the lyrics, they're out of this world, out of this century

↳y/n_wolff Thank you love 🥹

lewishamilton The chorus got me in a chokehold💜

↳y/n_wolff He's the one I prayed for, in the dead of night, a love like ours, hidden from sight. If people knew, they'd say it's wrong, but in his arms I belong🥹

↳username4 What is Lewis doing here...?

username5 Chill, he drives for Mercedes. George also commented in case you didn't notice

username3 Lyrics so beautiful miss girl was born in the wrong generation

↳username2 fr it sounds straight from 20th century poetry, she's too pure for the age of quick tinder hookups

username6 I knew what her father was like but damn...that song screams daddy issues...

↳username7 Y/n said music is her therapy, that's just how she chooses to express her emotions

username8 When are we going to talk about this part of the lyrics?? "In his eyes, reflections of victory, every triumph and mystery. He's raced through life, faced every curve"?? THIS HAS TO BE ABOUT A DRIVER

↳username9 Y/N AND MAX???

username10 me when I'm delusional

↳username11 I wish it was about Max, but it's certainly about an older guy. I mean, Max is a few years older than Y/n, but the song feels like the guy is in his 30s

lewishamilton Summer break = days spent at the beach

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username1 Sir Lewis Hamilton casually adding his boss' daughter to his vacation pics 🤨

↳username2 fr did he think we wouldn't notice?

georgerussell63 Blink twice if Y/n forced you to post the last photo

↳lewishamilton She kindly asked and I agreed.

y/n_wolff Exactly. That's what I do. I ask. Kindly.

username3 SO HER SONG IS ABOUT HIM??

↳username4 Seems like it 🥹

username3 idk how I feel about it tbh... she's too young for him

username5 Yeah imo she'd be better with Max

username4 Shut the hell up guys, let them be happy, there must be a reason they're together

landonorris that's called soft launching, did you know that?

↳y/n_wolff Wdym?? We're just team bonding during the summer break

georgerussell63 Then why wasn't I at the team bonding?

y/n_wolff Uhhhh I'll call you back later, I'm driving through a tunnel 😬

username6 She's too young for him, will have her fun and move onto the next guy (Max?)

↳username7 You're the reason why so many celebs prefer to keep their relationships a secret

username8 WHAT DID TOTO SAY??

↳username6 Does he even know? 💀 AFAIK he doesn't have social media

username8 But it's impossible that he wouldn't know, right...?

y/n_wolff I love you but what is this basic caption?😭

↳lewishamilton I'd rather like to focus on how pretty you look

y/n_wolff I LOVE YOU 😭

landonorris simp

y/n_wolff Stfu Lando, you wish you could hang out with us at the beach

username3 Lmao didn't expect Lando calling the 7 times world champion a simp but here we are

username9 Okay guys but... The girlfriend effect? How will the girlfriend effect work in this case if Lewis is a fashion icon already?

↳username10 There must be a way for an upgrade, there always is

y/n_wolff Sorry, he's all perfect already🫶I guess the gf effect only applies to boys and my man is a real man🗡

maxverstappen1 Have fun ☀️ see you back on track soon

↳username6 Something doesn't feels right seeing Max in this comment section...

username10 Get your shit together, him and Y/n never had a thing, y'all made it all up based on one interview Max gave years ago

mercedesamgf1 🌞😎

y/n_wolff He's the one I prayed for

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lewishamilton I love you babe but what is this basic caption?

↳y/n_wolff You're learning from the best, I see

georgerussell63 Good to know you're still team bonding 👍

↳y/n_wolff Yeah, we bonded really hard last night😌

georgerussell63 TMI

oscarpiastri The last pic 🤓

↳landonorris she's getting bold isn't she

y/n_wolff I don't have reasons to be shy tho, do I?

landonorris girl made one good song and made it her whole personality

↳y/n_wolff This is girlhood, you'd never get it

landonorris btw this is hard launching but in a 'we don't give a fuck' way

↳y/n_wolff Well, we don't 🤷‍♀️

username1 WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LITTLE Y/N😭

↳username2 She grew up 😭

username3 I love how nonchalant they're about it

carmenmmundt Someone's been working out🤭

↳y/n_wolff Now I have a personal trainer 😌

username4 WHAT DID TOTO SAY??

↳username5 Bet we're gonna see much more of smashing his headset after the break

username6 How is she so casual about it? We just found out she's dating LEWIS MF HAMILTON and she's acting like that's nothing

↳username3 I guess it is 'nothing' for her, she's known Lewis since she was really young

username7 That's what's giving me the biggest ick because this man has known her since she was an early teen and suddenly decided to date her?

username3 Yeah but she's in her 20s now, she's a consenting adult

username7 That's not normal, this is the definition of grooming

username3 I'm sorry I'm too european for your bullshit

username8 Lewis said fuck it I'm going to Ferrari next year anyway, might as well shoot my shot 💀

username9 Max Verstappen has been really silent

↳username10 Now he'll compete with Lewis not only for the championship but also for Y/n 😂

username9 It would be such a win

username11 Can y'all MaxY/n shippers shut up? I swear y'all are worse than Lestappen shippers

y/n_wolff Roscoe working hard while his dad socializes with his grandpaw 🥳

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username1 I didn't even realize now that Y/n and Lewis are together it means Toto is Roscoe's grandpaw 😭

georgerussell63 Working hard or hardly working?

↳y/n_wolff No comment...

landonorris really shocked to see toto still gets along with lew

↳username2 Lando saying what we all think lol

↳y/n_wolff Dad was actually happy!!

landonorris does he hope you'll convince lew to stay in mercedes?

y/n_wolff How am I supposed to know 🤷‍♀️ you go talk to him

oscarpiastri New songs when?

↳y/n_wolff Soon!! (I haven't started working on them)

username2 I'm actually happy to see them happy and that Toto accepts Lewis as Y/n's boyfriend

↳username3 It's still weird 💀 imagine calling a 40 year old your 'boyfriend'

username2 People are allowed to find love at any age

username3 Lewis is closer in age to Toto than to Y/n

username2 And? Y/n isn't a child, she's a grown woman, if Lewis is what she wants, who are we to judge?

username3 It's just icky... It's not gonna last long

username4 I still can't stop thinking what could be if Y/n was dating Max 🥹

↳username5 fr my dream couple

username6 Y'all see how Y/n predicted people's reaction in her song? "If people knew, they'd say it's wrong" and y'all can't stop yapping about imaginary grooming or what her and Max could've been

↳username7 Girl should've kept it a secret, I feel sorry for them 🥲

↳username8 But in his arms I belong

y/n_wolff Okay everybody, I didn't want to talk about it, but you give me no choice. Lewis and I are in love, there was no grooming involved, I make my own decisions. I really wanted to cherish our love with my new music, but you make me re-think it. I don't feel excited to share our love with you anymore.

↳lewishamilton Don't worry about them darling ❤️

↳danielricciardo FEA

↳landonorris You have our support guys

↳oscarpiastri Don't let these comments get to you, they don't matter

↳georgerussell63 I know I usually act like a snappy older brother, but I love to see you happy (even if Lewis is the reason)

↳maxverstappen1 Haters are always gonna hate, but they don't deserve your attention

[gucciwins]

Gala After Gala

Harry didn’t know that one moment with Y/N would change his life. 

Word count: 28,920 (no joke)

A/N: hi amores! this has been something i have been working on for months. this is older harry and I can honestly say i've poured my heart into this piece.  special mention to @matildashoney who was just an amazing support as i worked on this on and off. thank you for being patient with me friends! 💜

i hope you enjoy, my loves. buckle in, grab your waters and happy reading!

Warnings: slow burn!!!!! (it’s worth it), angst, fluff, smut (female pleasure) 

Another gala. Another check to write.

Harry has to remind his assistant to stop accepting these invitations for him. Next time he’ll mail a check out instead. He had finished buttoning his velvet maroon coat as he handed off his keys to the valet for the hotel. The doorman guided him down the entry leading him to the extravagant ballroom.

To no surprise, the venue was decorated beautifully. There seemed to be a common theme of gold and flowers. At every turn, he saw a waiter with a boutonniere in their left pocket. The tablecloth shimmered under the dimmed lights, unlike the usual cheap fabric he saw at other events. For food, appetizers were lined up in the back with small places and forks to the side so one could serve themselves to their liking. Dinner was set to start in an hour once most of the guests arrived.

Harry mingled with a drink in his hand, not bothering to force a smile, he had the displeasure of knowing most of the people in attendance, and he can’t say he’s the biggest fan of them. They all had one thing on their mind: money. None of them cared about the cause for tonight, Harry included. All they were there for was to flaunt their money and see who could donate the most, and by the looks of it, Old man Tommy was looking to take the win by how aggressively he was signing his checkbook.

Dinner went surprisingly well. The music was a classical band that didn’t play pretentious music Harry was used to. They also didn’t play covers of pop songs. It was clear that the band had worked a long time with each other because they created beautiful melodies people could enjoy around conversation but also dancing. He never took part in the dancing, finding it tacky, and for the first time since he started attending gala’s, he was filled to the brim because the food was actually good. He cleaned his plate of the salmon he was offered.

After their meal, he knew he had to mingle, so he found an old friend Mr. Horan who he occasionally saw and invited out for a game of golf. He wouldn’t call him a friend, but he made decent company when Harry reached out. The Irish lad could hold his liquor and his jokes weren’t bad, not that Harry would ever let Niall know.

He wasn’t listening to the conversation around him. They were going on about the growth in their companies, and it was laughable. Not that he’d tell them, he wasn’t in the mood to step on their fragile egos.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Harry turns to find a young-looking waiter holding a tray with a single drink.

“Yes?” Harry asked in a bored tone.

“Lady in the black dress sent you this drink.” He nods at a woman standing at the bar's end in red heels. He couldn’t see the designer, but he knew they had to be expensive with the gloss they had on them. He wasn’t in the mood to be hit on, let alone to be sent a fruity drink. The worker did nothing wrong, so Harry took the glass. He didn’t bother excusing himself, instead making his way over to this woman who would most likely cry or scream at his rejection.

“Why’d you send this to me?” Harry questions as soon as he’s right behind her.

She turns around, a pout on her perfectly stained red lips, “you don't like an amaretto sour?”

Harry does his best not to let his face fall because she’s gorgeous. The dress looked beautiful, hugging all her curves. She was confident. He was sad he didn’t appreciate her backside more. Most women Harry knows wouldn’t dare be caught in a dress this provocative at an occasion like this, but she somehow added a hint of modesty to it with her red shawl that matched her lips perfectly. Although she’s stunning, he’s not falling for any trick of hers.

“Not my taste.”

“Oh,” the frown deepens on her face, “it looked like you weren’t enjoying your drink.”

Harry looks down at the brown liquid, “I ordered this.”

She raises her hand and shrugs. “My mistake. Your mood looked a little sour.”

It irked Harry how she had noticed him and his expressions when this was the first he saw her.

He keeps his eyes on her trying to see if he could get another reaction besides her pouty frown. “It’s the environment.”

“You don’t like Galas,” she states. “It’s an important cause.”

“It’s not that.” Harry takes a sip of the drink she sent him, mistaking it for his tequila. He holds back a reaction knowing she noticed his mistake. “I sometimes wish they asked for a check instead of making me pay a ticket and then donate a check once I’m here.”

“Oh.”

“They ask for money and give us little food,” he surprises himself by continuing to talk, not wanting to walk away from her just yet.

“The food offered tonight had large portions.”

“For once,” he scoffs.

“Open bar?” She offers.

“Strange,” he rebuttals.

“But it works.”

Her gaze shifts to someone behind her, and Harry knows she’s about to walk away from him, and he hates that he wants to follow her. She leaves her drink behind, moving around him, getting ready to head to the person seeking her company.

“See you around, Mr. Styles.”

Harry watches her walk away until she gets lost in the crowd. As Harry keeps sipping the drink she ordered for him, there’s one thought swimming around his head.

He had never given her his name, let alone his last name.

For the rest of the night, he had kept an eye on her, seeing as she glided from donor to donor. Everyone laughed with her. She was charming them all. It worked on everyone, even Harry, something he’d never admit to her. As Harry watches her speak with the host of the night, an old family friend comes up to him.

“Styles, where have you been hiding?” Miles asks, a giant grin on his face.

“Nowhere.”

Miles isn’t bothered by his answers; he is already used to Harry’s attitude. “How are you?”

“Well.”

“What are you drinking?”

Harry looks down at the empty glass that once held his second amaretto sour. “Nothing now.”

“Want another of whatever?”

He shakes his head, “good for now, thank you.”

“Why are you still here? I know you do your rounds and leave.”

“Uh…got to know a few people.”

Miles sees that Harry’s gaze hasn’t shifted for a second, and he finds where Harry has been staring for the last few minutes.

“Oh, Y/N.”

Y/N.

He repeats her name over and over, committing it to memory.

“Have you met her?” Miles asked him.

“Only for a moment.” Harry digs for more, “what do you think?

“She’s brilliant. Y/N is an intern for Lifelong Creativity long term but works side jobs with different partners Hope has introduced her to. I can’t tell you exactly what she does, but I know she’s passionate and would talk anyone’s ear off who asks. She’s finishing her degree soon, and everyone wants to snatch her up by the sounds of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already working up on opening her own nonprofit soon.”

“How old did you say she was?”

“She’s 23.”

“Real young.”

“Yeah, but it’s clear she knows what she’s doing.”

“You should speak with her. I’m sure she’d love to. She knows every person on the guest list. Seeing as she helped create it.”

Safe to say, Harry was intrigued to learn more about Y/N.

Life moved on. He pushed the college student out of his head and continued on with his life, or so he told himself. When a new invitation arrived the following week for an event taking place at the end of the month, he was quick to get Pearl to RSVP for him.

+

Now the night has arrived, and he isn’t sure why he’s here.

It’s not to try to get a look at Y/N, not at all hoping to have a longer conversation. He learned her name; it doesn’t mean he wants to use it.

He spots her as soon as he arrives at the bar. She’s wearing a sage green dress with embroidered flowers all around. She’s wearing white heels tied around her calf, and he wants to know how long it took her to get the perfect bow for each foot. Harry soon sees her with another woman with a checkbook in her hand, another familiar face.

Before he can second guess himself, he’s walking towards them.

“Hello, Lucy.” Harry greets her with a charming smile and a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.

“Mr. Styles, always a pleasure.”

“It’s always mine.”

“I was just speaking with Y/N here, thanking her for helping me plan a successful night.” Lucy smiles at Y/N, who squeezes Lucy’s outstretched hand.

“Quite something,” Harry inputs.

“Evening, Mr. Styles.”

He nods at her, “Y/N.”

“Lifelong Creativity is lucky to have her. I’m glad you were able to help out, Y/N.” They all hear Lucy’s name being called from a distance and know she’s about to leave them alone. “Excuse me, will you?”

It now leaves them alone, making Y/N finally look at him. Her lipstick is a soft pink with an added shine of glitter. He wonders if he were to kiss her if it’d stain his lips just the same. He clears his throat, willing the thoughts away.

“You’re an intern,” Harry states.

She doesn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I, uh, graduate soon.”

“Undergrad?”

She smirks because she knows he’s searching for information about her. Y/N shakes her head, “Grad.”

“What’s your job?”

“I work for various nonprofits as well as hospitals. I’m part of their sub-events team.” She shrugs like it’s nothing of importance, but it is.

She’s part of the team that plans events to gain more funding for their organization and programs. She plans events to get people with heavy pockets, like Harry, to fork away thousands for a cause they believe in. Harry had often disregarded Gala invites due to ticket prices, but if his chances to see Y/N increased, he might just come to them all.

Harry does his best to hide how impressed he is with her.

“I’m sure you’ve reached your goal. Emptied all these fools out of their pockets.”

Y/N flashes him a grim smile. “Good day.”

What he said was clearly wrong because what Harry thought would be a long conversation was cut short.

The rest of the night, he never finds a moment alone with her. It’s as if she was dancing around him, having noticed that he was chasing her. It seemed she loved to play, and Harry didn’t like to lose.

+

Harry needed to pick up his suit from his tailor. He had a date, and this was his good luck suit. He pushed Y/N out of his mind. She was an intern and too young for him. He did not need to think about her or worry about seeing her at another event he attended. He was picking up his burgundy suit that needed fixing. It was made by his dear friend Alessandro. Usually, Alessandro makes alterations, but he was traveling at the moment, and Bartolo was the best. He had been coming to Bartolo long before meeting Alessandro. While his friend always made the most gorgeous suits, he seemed to have gotten his measurements wrong. Not that he minded. Harry liked paying Bartolo a visit, who always told him he needed to settle down with someone. That he wanted to see Harry happy. Harry simply told him it wasn’t the card for him.

He walks in, ready to be greeted by Bartolo, but to his surprise, he sees Y/N seated on a chair facing away from the window with a book in her hand.

“Y/N?”

She looks up, a slight smile on her face. “Mr. Styles, a pleasure.”

“Just Harry, please.”

She shrugs him off.

“Do you work here, Y/N?” He loves the role of her name off his tongue.

“My friend is an apprentice.”

“Dawn?” Seeing she’s the only other worker here besides Bartolo wasn’t that lucky of a guess.

Y/N, for the first time ever, smiles at him. It’s beautiful. It leaves him breathless. “Yes. Does she work with you too?”

Harry clears his throat, “no, uh, I work with Bartolo.”

He was surprised. Dawn had been working with Bartolo for two years, never had he crossed paths with Y/N. It was strange he found himself meeting her outside of their usual environment of a Gala. Seeing her dressed in a silk midi skirt with a slit going up her leg bundled up in an oversized sweater showcasing her university. The chunky boots on her feet gave her extra height, and Harry wished she’d stand up so he could see where she’d measure to him now. At their first meeting, he didn’t take note, but she noticed how she was a head smaller than him by their second meeting. Today he wondered if she’d be lined up to his lips if she would think of kissing him just like he thought of her.

She hums in response, leaving them in silence. He doesn’t know why but he wants her to keep talking. He wants to hear the softness of her voice fill the room.

“Bello!” Bartolo grins, bringing out his suit in his garment bag. Even that bag was customized with his name stitched in gold thread.

“Hello, Bartolo.”

Dawn walks in from the back, a few steps away from Bartolo and Y/N. “Y/N, your dress is ready to try on.”

Y/N follows behind Dawn but calls to him, “see you, Mr. Styles.”

Not a single glance his way. He wanted just one final look, and she didn’t give him that. Harry goes on his way home after paying Bartolo. He goes home with a clouded mind and a heavy heart.

Harry cancels his date that night.

+

No invites have arrived at his house or office.

It has been over a month, and he waits and waits. Harry has never been so aware of time as he has now. He feels every hour move slower, and he has no idea why. What kind of spell has she set on him that she is all he can think of?

He was tempted to look for her online. He had the power to do it, but he couldn’t break her trust. Harry doesn’t know her well, but he knows she’d hate it if someone looked them up without permission.

A knock on his door breaks him out of these thoughts.

“Come in.”

“Mr. Styles,” his temporary assistant Diego, while Pearl was away on maternity leave.

“Yes, Diego.”

“You said to come in if you received a new invitation.” There, in his employee’s hand, is a gold envelope.

In black ink is his name written on the front of the envelope. He opens it and reads from a close partner of his.

Golden Skies Invites you to join us as we celebrate our 10th anniversary.

Formal Attire - Be ready to dance

Anthony Carmichael

+

Y/N was nervous.

She could remember the last time she had felt her palms sweat and her heart wanting to beat out of her chest. It was when she was interviewing in front of the board the last step to seal her fate if she’d be accepted into the Graduate program of her dreams. Now here, she was nervous for an entirely new reason, this one holding less value to her life, but she knew it had the power to change the course of her life.

As much as Y/N loved the game of chase, she wanted to see if Harry was all talk or serious about pursuing her. Y/N had the confidence to go after what she wanted, and right now, she wanted to ask Harry Styles, CEO of Pleasing, a growing business, their net worth growing by the day.

Today she wore a satin midi slip dress with floral applique and lace trims in a dark shade of pink. An open back with delicate buttons on her lower back. This dress only doubled her confidence. She was ready for tonight.

The team had planned a big night as there would be dancing and a live band, unlike the past gala’s she had attended last month. Guests arrived promptly and quickly took a tour of the venue, many judging it, trying to find anything they felt didn’t hold up to their standards. She didn’t mind; she knew she could never please everyone. As long as she pleased her partners, then she knew she had done a job well done.

Y/N had to will herself to stop staring at the doors as they opened, bringing in familiar and new guests. She was waiting for a green-eyed man who never failed to impress with his custom-made suits from Gucci’s creative director.

“Y/N, sweetie. This is marvelous,” Keaton praises, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks, something she had to grow accustomed to seeing as most of her partners were big on the French greeting.

“Oh, uh, thank you. We’ll have to see how the night goes,” she tells him brushing off the compliment.

“You need to relax. Don’t you have Gracie to worry for you?” Keaton questions.

“Yes, but–”

“Nope,” Keaton cuts her off. “You need a drink in hand. You look smokin’, and everyone needs to see it.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“As far as I am concerned, your work here is done.” Keaton passes her a glass of champagne he got from the waiters walking around happily offering them to guests. “Now drink.”

She takes a sip and hums, appreciating the bubbly drink. Y/n might not be sure what brand she’s drinking tonight, but she does know that each bottle costs over one hundred dollars, and if Keaton is telling her to enjoy then she will. Plus, a bit of liquor courage was always helpful.

Y/N spends time speaking with Nora and Liam, part of her team. They get lost in conversation, going over how they’re looking forward to the auction in a few weeks that Nora was happy to be part of. She loved getting people to spend money on her, and she seemed to get offers from everyone in the building. Nora returned with the most insane stories, and Y/N was excited for more. Getting lost in conversation, she forgot about the man she was waiting for to make his presence known. He had RSVP’d, and it wasn’t until Liam told her a broody man had his eye on her from across the room.

She knew Harry had arrived and that he had spotted her before she could spot him, not that Harry knew she was looking out for him. Harry stands alone, a champagne flute in his hand. The music was loud, and the dance floor had couples dancing and laughing out loud, enjoying the night. Y/N hoped she’d be joining in on their fun in a few minutes.

As Y/N walked towards Harry, she admired his suit. It was different from the previous ones he had worn. The suit had a subtle black flower print. As she got closer, Harry acted like he didn’t see her coming, choosing to look at the dancing couples. She allowed herself to notice the details in his suit, from the black velvet lapels on his oversized jacket and his trousers hugging his thighs nicely while the bottom gave a nice balance with a flared hem. She really liked the look.

“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greeted

“Y/N.”

She let his eyes roam over her knowing she looked amazing. This was a borrowed dress, one she would be sad giving back, but it served its purpose. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d have an occasion to wear the dress again, not when all these people would remember.

“Do you dance, Mr. Styles?” Y/N asks as she joins him in, watching couples spin each other around. The music was more lively than the classical she knew he preferred.

“Never.”

“Are you not good at it?”

Harry scoffs, “I’m just not open to doing something intimate with acquaintances.”

“I see.” They stay silent for a few minutes until Y/N decides it’s now or never. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” She tells him, turning away from the dance floor to face him.

Harry gives her no reaction. “Is that so?” She nods. “Well, go ahead.”

She looks behind her, and when she turns back around, she has the most gorgeous smile on her face, not an inch of nerves, not like a few seconds ago, and Harry feels his heart speed up. He wasn’t sure what she would ask, but he might just agree to anything she said if she continued smiling at him.

“I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with me.”

A date.

Harry felt his throat closing up. She was asking him out. He didn’t believe it. Why would she want to date him? He wasn’t aware he had managed to make an impression. Harry’s ego is through the roof at the thought of this gorgeous young woman wanting to go out with him, but on the other hand, his brain is telling him he can’t. That she was younger than him, and he had no reason to involve himself with her.

He knows he has been silent for too long as he sees her smile begin to slip. They both know the answer that’s coming.

“No, Y/N. The answer is no,” he forces out in a neutral voice, hoping she couldn’t pick up on the bitterness he felt towards himself for rejecting her.

Y/N did not move an inch. He had expected her smile to fall or for her to ask him to reconsider, but he got none of that. Instead, she tucked away her smile and gave him a slow nod. Her eyes stayed locked with his, and Harry had trouble reading her. It seemed she was unaffected. So he tries again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

She brushes him off, “you don’t go through life without receiving a rejection. You’re not the first, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

Except Harry doubted that. Who could ever say no to her? Apparently, he could.

He did nothing as she excused herself, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. He had no right to be with someone as sweet and young as Y/N. It was fine. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her after tonight.

Harry would think about this interaction for days, beating himself up for saying no, but it was for the best.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

+

Rejections never came easy.

It wasn’t the first time Y/N got told no, and as she told Harry, it wouldn’t be her last.

Was she disappointed he said no? Absolutely.

Was he out of her league? One hundred percent, and Harry must have known that.

Y/N thought there was something there. She knew who he was. There was a reason she sent him a drink that night. She didn’t ask him out for his connections or because he was crazy rich but because she heard people speak about Harry, a great man. From someone who spends time volunteering at the soup kitchen to donating gifts to hospitals during the holidays. No need to mention the extensive checks he leaves after each gala. Many people are philanthropists or say they are because it’s a write-off or will make them look good, but Harry does it to remember where he came from in that small town in England.

She knew too much about Harry from colleagues and guests but never got to know anything from the man himself, and that is something she’ll regret. Instead of taking the chance to learn from him, she asked him out, and now she’d keep sending invitations to his company while doing her best to avoid him, or at least until she got over the humiliation.

Y/N let herself wallow in pity for only a day. 24 hours is all she gives herself because it’s back to work on Monday. No need to be stuck on something so trivial.

By doing so, she takes herself out to eat. A meal that will always make her smile is dumplings, and she knows just the place. The Dumpling Bar is a favorite place of Y/N’s to dine alone or with her friends. The service is fantastic, never failing to leave her feeling so welcomed and leaving with a full stomach. She always sits in the front, with a nice view of the window facing the small lake it is located by. She treats it as a reward because it is a bit of a drive from her apartment. She wished she lived somewhere closer, but for now, she’ll keep making the drive. The back area is for classier meals, Y/N likes to say, even though they are all eating dumplings. Guests are allowed to have a seat in the backroom for a more intimate dinner.

Upon arrival, Y/N is greeted by Alba, the hostess who, just like her name, reflects the warmest energy she feels every time she sees her.

“Hi, Alba!”

“Hello beautiful, it’s great seeing you. Table by the window, alright?”

Alba points to the table Y/N had been eyeing since she walked in and eagerly lets her know it’s perfect.

“Danielle will be with you shortly.”

Y/N thanks her. It was not long before Danielle took her order, making small conversation and promising her that her food would be out shortly, and true to her word, Y/N did not have to wait long.

Oh, how she was looking forward to eating until her tummy was full. On a full stomach, she’d be too sleepy to even begin to remember why she was feeling sad.  

As Y/N munches on her dumplings, she can’t help but overhears the conversation. Next to her, a couple is sharing dumplings and talking very loudly.

“I told my father that a horse would not make me happy, not when my last one had been a champion. How could I go back to the Hamptons to show my face going from a winning horse to one that would surely be a loser.”

Y/N giggles. Oh, the drama. She enjoys listening to the couple, the boyfriend trying to be supportive and failing.

“Tell your dad to get the best trainer.”

“Chad, you’re not helping. Father is working hard, and I can’t bother him over a coach. Everyone is lousy in the industry now.”

The conversation seems to be going in circles. Y/N enjoys dining alone because she can’t imagine having dinner with someone she does not like. There would be awkward conversation and forced smiles. It’s a big reason she’ll never be on a dating app. Also, it helps that attending so many galas has connected her with many single men, not that any of them have been worth her time.

Y/N was waiting for Danielle to return her card and receipt because she was ready to call it a night. She had a full belly and was craving her bed. She’s humming along to the song being played in the restaurant. She had been trying to think of the song's name, but she’s been coming up blank. The front opens, and she hears Alba’s cheery voice greet them. Curiosity gets the best of Y/N, and she turns her head to the entrance to see who walked in when she sees a man in an emerald suit, the jacket a pinch oversized, and it seems the sleeves were folded in not that anyone would notice, the woman on his arm was gorgeous. It’s clear she dressed up for a night out on the town with how shiny her dress was, maybe even too bright for a fancy dumpling restaurant.

“My date and I have a reservation,” Y/N freezes as she hears the man’s voice. His voice was firm but polite, the English accent thick as he stated his name to Alba’s. He looks around the dining room, and that’s when Y/N looks back down, staring at her used napkin and empty cup that once held her raspberry lemonade.

The hostess nods, “we’ve got the private dining area ready, sir.”

Y/N ducks her head, afraid if he spotted her, he’d give her a look of pity, and she didn’t need that tonight, not when she had seen it when he rejected her.  It was no surprise he said no to her. She could never look that elegant on a weekday, let alone a day after a gala where she stayed hours past all the guests. Y/N sits there in orange bell bottoms and a black knitted sweater.  She looks lovely, and this is her favorite restaurant. This brought all the feelings back Y/N had thought she had let go of, and honestly, as much as it broke her heart, Y/N knew she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

+

It’s been a month of endless planning and working with Hermanas Unidas, and Y/N was thankful the night was finally here. Tonight would be a bit different, and she was more on edge than ever. There would be an auction in a few hours, and Y/N wanted everything to run smoothly for Julieta, who has always been a good friend to her but today was her boss.

Y/N had raided Sapra’s, her best friend’s closet, once again. She knew she had to buy new clothes for her events, but she loved her best friend’s style and would rather borrow a dress than spend money on a new one. She was wearing a maxi dress with tie straps. Y/N chose it because she had fallen in love with the velvet material, and after trying it on, she felt sexy, not to mention she loved a slit to show off an extra bit of skin.

Sapra made Y/N promise she’d bring it back soon, stating it was her date night dress, and Y/N didn’t bother asking because whatever Sapra and her boyfriend did was not her concern.

The night had been in full swing since the doors opened to the venue. She had managed to blend into the background for most of the event and successfully avoided seeing the guest list for tonight, meaning she got to enjoy life without a care in the world.

After the rejection, she has happily moved on (or so she’s telling herself) Sapra and Atlas took her out on a double date that left her feeling back in her game. Her confidence was doubled, and she was ready to go out and have fun. No reason she had to stop because of one rejection. Although the man she went on a date with did not go well tonight, she’d be speaking with Colin, who had been made partner at Coulson’s Co. He was a family lawyer, and truth be told, Y/N was eating up everything he was telling her.

He was charming and had a deep laugh that sent chills down her spine. He was drinking wine and offered to get Y/N a glass when he saw she had been eyeing it. It’s safe to say Y/N was upset when Julieta’s assistant approached her to say she was needed backstage. Colin promised he’d miss her and looked forward to finding her soon.

Y/N was sure nothing would wipe the smile off her face until Julieta told Y/N why she was needed.

“Part of the auction?” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re joking!”

Julieta grimaced, “Erica called in sick. Always knew she’d flake.”

“Julieta!”

“Please, mi amor. I really need you. You’re all I have. I can’t do one less, not when I advertised five eligible bachelorettes.”

“Hope they can settle with me,” Y/N mutters.

“Dios, you know I hate when you talk like that. You are a beautiful woman. I’ve never seen confidence like yours, so please bring that Y/N back.” Julieta has done so much for Y/N, and she knows there’s no way she’d say no to her.

“Fine, what will I have to do?”

“It’s a good cause, Y/N, and I’m sure you’ll have a great time. If it’s someone you don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle it,” Julieta reassures her.

Y/N relents and allows herself to be dragged to the side of the stage, where four other ladies are lined up.

Here’s to a fun night. She really hoped Colin liked her enough to place a bid on her.

Harry was disappointed, to say the least. He had not caught a glimpse of her all night. He wanted to know what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair, and if she was drinking anything new. Tonight did not have a strict dress code, so he had settled on a simple black custom suit. He paired the suit with a black tank top, and to give it that extra flare, he wore his silver glitter boots.

As he spent the night looking for her, he knew he would not find her. The first time they met was because she wanted them to, and now she was back to blending into the crowd, but he knew he’d find her. He knew it was wrong to want to see her after rejecting her, but she was the only thing on his mind. Harry was never the type to get distracted, but here he is, attending another gala in the hope of getting a single glimpse of Y/N.

Harry knew he would find her, but he didn’t think it’d be by the owner of the organization presenting her onstage as an eligible bachelorette you could bid to take on a date. Harry was prepared to pay the auction no attention, but she always surprised him.  

He hadn’t seen her since he said no to her. Harry had rejected her not because he didn’t like her but because he was older. She was still in school, and he was running a billion-dollar company. He had the time and love to give, but he didn’t want to take away anything from her. He had no idea what she wanted out of life, and Harry was sure one date with Y/N and he’d be ready to get down on one knee because he recognized how intelligent and hardworking she was. It was rare that Harry found a person that could challenge him, but Y/N did it without a second thought. He didn’t want her to miss out on life experiences because he was at a different point in his life than her. He wouldn’t do it to her, no matter how much his heart hurt at never getting the chance to get to know her and the taste of her lips.

The bidding was starting, and Harry found himself with a numbered paddle. The number six stared at him, and he knew he would not be putting his hand down until he won that date with her because Harry was sure every person in that room who bid on her would not treat her the way she deserved.

“Good evening, everyone! I am Julieta, as you all already know. Tonight’s auction is slightly different. We always do amazing vacations, but tonight we decided something different. Behind me stand five beautiful women who are very important to this organization and me. So be aware that if you bid on one or more of these women, they will talk your ear off about Hermanas Unidas. Starting off, we have Clarissa.”

Y/N was the last person to be auctioned for the night. He didn’t know why she would do this? It didn’t seem like her, but then again, Harry didn’t really know her did he?

She walked up to Julieta with a beautiful smile on her face. She scanned the audience, and Harry froze, thinking she was searching for him but there in the second row, she locked eyes with a man and offered him a wink. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she was seeing someone else already. He knew he was feeling green but swallowed it down, for it wasn’t the place to act out on jealousy of someone he had no ownership over.

“Bidding for the angelic Y/N starts at $500.”

Four hands shot up. Harry’s included.

“$1000,” the blonde guy in the second row offered as he was the first hand up.

“Very well. Do I have $1,250?”

Harry was quicker this time, his number up first. Julieta nodded, accepting his bid. He had his eyes locked on Y/N, and the moment she realized it was his number, he saw her take a step back, surprised to see him bidding for her.

She kept a smile, but he knew it was forced now, no longer carefree.

“$1,500?”

The blonde once again beat Harry, “$3,000.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Is that the best this guy could offer? Harry was ready to lay down all his money if it meant a date with Y/N. The highest bid was for Samantha at $11,000, and the person who bid was her boyfriend, the owner of his family’s business he inherited three years ago.

He decided he’d wait to see how long this guy wanted to play because, for Y/N, he wouldn’t be backing down. “$5000,” Harry countered.

That seemed to get the blonde’s attention as he turned around to get a look at Harry, who only offered him a smirk tempting him to play his game, and by the scrawl the blonde gave Harry, he knew this was now about betting the most for Y/N but also who could prove to have the larger pocket.

“$8,000,” the blonde stood, not even glancing at Y/N anymore.

“$10,000.” Harry has now stepped closer to the stage, not caring that all the attention was on him and his opponent.

“$15,000,” the blonde winced, and it seemed only Harry heard it.

Julieta waited to see if Harry would respond, with one last raise of his paddle, “$30,000.”

The gasps were loud, but Harry didn’t care. His eyes were locked on Y/N’s, who stared at him in disbelief. He had doubled the blonde’s number, and it seemed he was out by the way he shook his head and sat down.

Julieta did not let her surprise show and accepted Harry’s bid, closing the auction with an offer of $30,000 for Y/N to go on a date with him. Harry was proud and shot the blonde man a smug smile as he was guided backstage, as he asked to speak with Julieta when in reality, he went in search of Y/N.

Upon arrival, he found her taking a sip of her red wine for the night. She looked exquisite, not a hair out of place, and her makeup was done to perfection. She shined as the true diamond of the night.

“Y/N,” Harry called out to her softly.

She turned, a frown on her face. “Mr. Styles.”

Harry frowned. He couldn’t detect an ounce of kindness in her voice. “Seems like we have a date,” he joked, wanting to see her smile.

Y/N scoffs, “why did you do it, Mr. Styles?”

“Pardon?” Harry hates how she says his name with so much distaste.

“Why’d you bid on me? It’s clear you have no interest in me.”

Harry wasn’t sure where to go from here because that was the furthest from the truth. He didn’t have to reply because Y/N wasn’t done talking.

“How can you be jealous when you said no when I asked you out?” Harry stays silent. “That’s what it was, right? My attention wasn’t on you anymore, and you didn’t like that. Did flaunting all your money make you feel good?”

“Y/N,” he steps towards her, but she puts her hand up to stop him, and he freezes. “I’m asking you now.”

She frowns, her voice rising. Harry never wished to see her upset, but it’s exactly what he caused. “No, this isn’t you asking.”

Harry sighs. There is no getting through to her. “Come on, Y/N, don’t be difficult.”

It’s clear that was the wrong thing to say because her eyebrows scrunch up, and there’s not a hint of kindness in her eyes, only a blazing fire that he seemed to be the cause of, and he regrets everything he has said to her from the moment he met her.”

“This is how you want to go out,” she points to the number on her chest, displaying her as contestant number five. “Because if so, I’ll take the money, but I won’t go.”

“C’mon, Y/N, give me a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“YOU BOUGHT ME, HARRY!”

Harry winces because he did. He bought a date with her, and some part of him regrets doing this without speaking to her, but it’s too late now.

Julieta comes up behind Y/N and places a hand on her shoulder, “Mr. Styles, thank you for your donation. We will deposit the check the day after your date, you know, for insurance purposes on both ends.”

“Of course, Julieta. I have always been a fan of the work you are all doing.” Harry hopes she doesn’t pick up on the tension between him and Y/N.

“You’re a gem, Mr. Styles.” Julieta shoots him a polite smile before turning her attention to Y/N. “I owe you one, Y/N, but I’m sure you’ll have a great night with this fine gentleman.”

And like that, they’re alone again.

They stand there in silence, waiting for Julieta to turn the corner to return to the party. They don’t want anyone overhearing their conversation. It’s clear they both have a lot more to say.

Harry starts wanting Y/N to know how sorry he is. “Don’t, uh, don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as an apology.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “an apology I’m forced to accept because you paid for it.”

Harry grimaces. There’s no coming back from this.

“What would your girlfriend think of spending $30 grand on another person?”

Girlfriend?

There was no girlfriend in his life. It’s been years since he had a partner. There’s only one girl he wishes to make his girlfriend, but he royally screwed that up, so he knows it will never happen.

“No girlfriend, I can assure you.”

“You’re a liar,” Y/N spits out.

“Enough,” Harry rebuttals. “There is no one.”

“I saw you. I won’t date someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Saw me?”

“Eating dumplings, or I was eating dumplings,” she fumbles. “You walked in with a date. I’m sure you were very cozy in the private room.

Harry’s eyes widened, “Y/N no, it was only a date.”

Hearing it was a date just as much as seeing him with the other woman. It is confirmation enough for Y/N to know there wasn’t another person she’d be hurting if word got out she went out on a date with Harry Styles.

“Please,” Harry begs.

“If I do this, you double the donation,” Y/N counters, and seeing how desperate Harry looked, she knew he’d agree to anything at this moment.

Harry doesn’t even react. He pulls out his checkbook, ready to write the check.

“Make it out to you or the charity,” Harry teases, hoping to ease the tension.

She rolls her eyes, “Hermanas Unidas would be wonderful, thank you.”

“Y/N,” his tone full of defeat

“I’m doing this for Julieta,” Y/N declares.” Not for you.”

Harry nods.

“You can get my number from the sheet. All the details for your reward are there.”

Harry watches her pick up her drink and walk away from him, leaving him alone to feel sorry for himself. And he knows he has a lot to make up for if he wants any chance with Y/N.

+

Y/N has been dreading this day.

It had been a week from the fateful day of the auction where Harry bid $30,000 well, now $60,000 for a date with her. The donation would do wonders, but she had to make it through an afternoon with Harry. Seeing as Harry informed her that it would be something casual but ending with a nice dinner. Y/N had no idea what that meant, but she decided that her brown checkered trousers and an old knitted sweater that always kept her warm would be a safe outfit.

She managed to slip on her shoes as she heard the doorbell ring, perfect timing.

Opening her door, she found Harry smiling, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. They were a beautiful shade of violet chrysanthemums. Y/N knew these were a rare shade to find, and she tried her best to bite back her smile at the sentiment.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hello, Y/N, you look wonderful.”

She nodded but made no move to invite him in.

“Uh, t-these are for you,” he extended his hand, waiting for her to accept them. She was careful to not have his fingers brush against hers, not needing him to add to her nerves.

“I’ll, umm, go put these in water.”

Y/N knows she left him awkwardly hanging outside her apartment, but she was, in a way, inviting him in. She doesn’t want or need to cross that line with him. After setting the flowers on her counter and double-checking that the stove was off, she grabbed her bag and returned to Harry, who looked awkward waiting for her.

As Y/N locks her door and follows behind Harry, she can see that he did mean casual. He’s wearing wide-leg jeans that don’t do much to give him any shape. He paired it with a duck-stitched cardigan that softened his features in a way that his luxurious suits never have.  

Harry opened her door, offering a small smile as she slipped into his Bentley; the car couldn’t be more than a few months old by how sleek and cared-for everything looked. Y/N thinks of her Camry, better known as Baymax. The car that got her through undergrad and is still by her side now as she’s getting her master’s. Baymax has seen better days, but from what her father tells her, as long as she continues to care for the car as she has been, she has many years left with Baymax.

Harry's playlist in his car allows her to relax, classical music has always had a calming effect on her, and this time is no different. Harry didn’t try to spark conversation during the ride, and Y/N didn’t want to try either. She could feel the tension rising in the car as he fiddled every few minutes with the radio while Y/N tried to figure out where he was taking her.

It was half an hour until Harry turned up a paved road that led them to a large building, the parking lot full of cars. Y/N sat up straight, trying to figure out where he had brought them, but she’d never driven out this way. It was a hidden area, and the road easily missed when driving down if one isn’t actively searching for it.  

They pass a sign that reads, “Sunshine Haven” Y/N wants to say she’s heard the name but can’t pin it at this moment, she’s tempted to take her phone out and google, but something tells her Harry will have an explanation for her. As Harry parks in a spot that reads ‘reserved,’ she unbuckles herself but doesn’t move to get out as she sees Harry has not moved, instead playing with the beaded charm on his key chain.

“Before we go in, I want to say that I did go on a date.” Harry begins, clearly uncomfortable but important enough for him to bring up. “She is not my girlfriend. It was only one date.”

Y/N shrugs, disinterested. It doesn’t matter to her, no more than he does to her right now.

“I asked her out. It was a bad date. That’s all. I don’t even have her number.”

Y/N wishes he hadn’t told her this, that he kept it to himself because it hurts her a lot more than she thought to hear Harry talk about asking another person out. He asked that person out because he was interested in them, while Y/N got a rejection. It’s clear to her now that Harry goes after what he wants, and it’s clearly not her.

“All forgotten,” she tells him with a forced smile and then gets out of the car. Harry follows a few seconds after coming to meet her at her side. Y/N feels the chilly air and is thankful for her sweater because she doesn’t know what Harry has planned, but it doesn’t feel like anything warm is waiting for her.

He begins to walk, and Y/N follows a step behind him. She takes in the beautiful environment growing around her, the trees and shrubs a bright green displaying how much sunlight they must receive daily. Harry stops walking as they reach the welcome center entrance. Y/N sees how fidgety he’s gotten again and knows he has something to share, so she stays silent.

Harry rubs his eyebrow, a tell-sign he’s nervous, “uh, I thought Sunshine Haven Rehabilitation would be a good place to bring you because I’ve seen various causes you’re passionate about, and well, this is one of mine.” He gestures to the entrance, where there’s a bulletin board of all the animals that have been released back into the ocean; on the bottom are sponsors, and listed second to last is none other than H. Styles. His photo icon is of him smiling, that dimple he never seems to show off was on display with a stuffed dolphin in his arms, and it warms Y/N’s stomach in a way she hasn’t felt since she first introduced herself to him.

Y/N knows she has mixed emotions. She can go about this one of two ways: act nonchalant as if her heart didn’t grow three sizes when finding out that Harry brought her to a place that clearly meant so much to him, or embrace the day and see what Harry and this beautiful rehabilitation have to offer.

“Lead the way then, Styles,” Y/N gave him a small smile, hoping to ease his nerves, and the one she got in return managed to call her down as well.

Y/N was ready to get to know the real Harry Styles, even if it didn’t mean anything more to Harry because, at the end of the day, she could make a fantastic friend, which didn’t sound like a bad idea to her. Walking in, a receptionist greets them, asking if they’re here to volunteer or pay for a visit until the lady slips her glasses on and gasps seeing Harry in front of her.

“Young man, you haven’t been here in ages,” she scolds him.

Y/N bites a smile as Harry looks down bashfully. She uses this time to look at the woman’s name tag: Sally.

“Sorry, Sally. I’ve been busy.” Harry wraps her in a hug, and Sally sighs.

“Fine, fine. Go on, I forgot you called in.”

Y/N, not wanting to be rude, moves aside and stretches out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Y/N, a friend of Harry’s. Thank you for having us.”

“Oh, sweetie, aren't you polite.” Sally accepts her hand, giving her a firm shake. “I’d hug you, but this one is known to be jealous.” Sally gestures to Harry, causing Y/N to laugh.

“I know.” Y/N grins at Harry loving the chance to tease him.

“Haha, we’ll be going now.”

“Have fun, dears.”

Harry opens a door, leading them down a long hallway until it shows displays of different areas for each animal in the rehabilitation center. It’s clear how loved this location is, with all volunteers walking around each animal center.

“What are we allowed to do?”

He shrugs, “mainly walk around, feed a seal if we’re lucky.”

She tries to contain her excitement, “are we going to be lucky?”

“We’ll have to see, won’t we.”

Y/N pouts but doesn’t push him. He kind of hoped she would. She lets Harry take the lead in showing her around. A few other school groups are volunteering, and Y/N knows if she were their age, she would have also signed up to volunteer here. Her time in the library was put to good use; she learned how to code and the Dewey decimal system of her town’s library.

She stays silent as Harry tells her about the first section: the sea turtles. Y/N can’t help but take in Harry as he talks about Sunshine Haven with pride; his eyes shine with every new fact he rambles about without looking at any of the information boards displayed. Y/N doesn’t dare interrupt him, letting him guide her. She’s almost tempted to reach for his hand because his strides are more extended than hers, and she always finds herself catching up.

Y/N stops as she sees a sign for the otters. Her eyes shine with delight. She calls his name when she sees him walking away.

“Let’s go there, please.” It’s her first request, and Harry smiles, seeing her waiting for him to say yes and guide them to see the otters, her favorite animal.

“I don’t know, seems busy.” He teases.

She doesn’t stop herself when she reaches for his hand, deciding that she will take him there since he doesn’t seem to want to take her.

“Hurry, Harry. I want to see the otters. Please,” she begs

“Lead the way, love.”

She leads the way to the otters while Harry giggles knowing he’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. Y/N made him feel like a little kid full of happiness and never-ending energy. He wanted to spend every moment with her, and having the day with her would have to be enough for now.

Y/N coos as she catches sight of the otters happily swimming in the cold water. She steps towards the glass waving at the otters, although Y/N and Harry know the otters can’t see her. It doesn’t stop her; if anything, she steps closer, trying to get herself as close to them as possible. She looks like a little kid admiring their favorite animal for the first time.

“Didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Harry tells her as she marvels in awe at the different sea animals.

“Oh, I was certain I would be a marine biologist when I was five.”

Harry laughs, clearly picturing a small Y/N with her wide smile looking at picture books of animals and stating she’d be taking care of them.

“What happened?”

“Biology is what happened,” she shutters in disgust. “They made me dissect a frog, and it broke my heart. I thought they were all about helping animals, not studying their insides.”

“Oh, love.”

Y/N feigns tears, “I’ve never recovered.” She lifts her head to flash him a cheeky smile while he shakes his head at her antics.

Harry giggles at her act of sadness, having believed her bit. “You’re trouble.”

She shrugs, “only a few can handle me.”

And Harry knows he would be lucky to say that she’s his.

+

Dinner is something Harry had been looking forward to all afternoon. He enjoyed walking around Sunshine Haven with Y/N and seeing her relaxed and happy in an environment he loved. Harry led her down some stairs until they were met by a small opening that led them to a large tunnel. Y/N let out a gasp seeing all the fishes swimming all around her. She looked on in awe, not even noticing Harry capturing a photo of the moment.

“That’s a tiger shark,” she breathed out, pointing it out to Harry.

“That’s Tank,” he shares.

“Will she be released soon?” Y/N hears Harry sigh and knows that won’t be the case for Tank. “What happened?”

“They found him young, and his dorsal fin was cut off. Most sharks can survive without it over time, but he was so young that he was seen as prey, not a predator.”

“He isn’t bothered by the other fish?”

Harry guides Y/N to sit down, letting her continue to marvel at the ocean life around her. “We let him roam, then he returns to his own tank. He’s respectful because he isn’t the best hunter, but we’ve seen he loves his space.”

“I’ve always liked sharks. Feel like they’re misunderstood.”

Harry laughs loud and rich, making Y/N smile, knowing she’s the reason he’s laughing. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Come on, they’re a feared animal due to movies or shark bites. There’s a 1 in 7 million chance you’ll get bitten or die from a shark attack. You have a higher chance of getting taken out by the flu.” She tells him as Harry removes the silver food cover to reveal a plate of chili tofu and a rainbow pasta salad.

“You’re right,” he agrees. Harry is constantly in awe around Y/N, finding new ways to be surprised by her, whether it be her beauty or intelligence. “Hope you enjoy the food. I know you mentioned being a fan of tofu.”

“Oh, it smells delicious. Is this from a restaurant nearby?”

Harry ducks his head to hide the blush on his face, “no, uh-I-I made it.”

Y/N widens her eyes in surprise as she takes her first bite. Harry watches as she chews, not looking away from him even when she reaches for her drink.

“Thoughts?” He asks.

She giggles, “it’s amazing.”

Harry tries his best not to look too smug, but he knows he’s failing because his mother always told him the way to someone’s heart was through their stomach, and for her to be a fan of his food means he was a step in the right direction. He wishes he had called his mother more for advice because he knows if he had talked to her about Y/N, he wouldn’t have messed it up so many times.

“Right, Harry. You’ve got to tell me about the time you fell into the waste bins.”

Harry gasps in shock. It’s a story only a few knew around here, “when did Sally have the time to spill these lies?”

Y/N laughs, not at all surprised he was quick to deny the story. “Fine. You can tell me how the dolphins wouldn’t accept your treats.”

“Now, that’s not fair. They’re spilling all my secrets.”

Y/N enjoyed dinner with Harry. He was easy to talk with, never once cutting her off and always having his gaze on her. There wasn’t a moment she thought she had lost him, not even when she rambled on about evaluation reports she had to sit through every few months. She always seemed to do the data cleaning because no one had figured out how to use the template she provided, even with all the lessons she gave each employee.

Harry assured her after dinner that there was no need to clean up, that he had it handled. She agreed and let Harry walk her out, where they got the most gorgeous sunset view behind the trees. Sally waved them goodbye making Y/N promise to come back even if it wasn’t with Harry. Y/N promised she would; she had seen a flyer on the bulletin about rescues they have every other weekend when they open it up for volunteers in training, and Y/N wanted to make time to come out for one of those dates.

The drive home is filled with aimless chatter as Harry tries to learn about Y/N. He’s surprised by how much she’s actually willing to share, but he’s not one to question it. He likes answering her as well. He doesn’t think he’s told someone his favorite cereal choice in years; no one has ever wanted to know something so irrelevant, yet Y/N made his answer feel special. His past girlfriends were into materialistic items, not that Harry minded, but conversations always dulled if they did not involve the newest fashion trends or famous designers.

“I didn’t take you as a Lorde fan,” Y/N tells Harry as she sees him singing along to one of the artist's newer songs.

Harry turns to face her for a moment before turning back to the road, “what did you expect then?”

“Hmmm….you really appreciate Jazz and love any piano piece, so I assumed Joni Mitchell, Carole King, oh, and Van Morrison.”

“Wow! You take me for an oldy, Y/N,” he gasps.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

He shakes his head, laughing, “can’t do that.”

“Knew it,” she celebrated.

“What about you?” Harry turns the question back to her.

“I want to hear what you think.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” he tells her honestly.

Harry racks his brain, trying to picture the type of music Y/N would listen to. He’s never really thought about it, but she seems the type to love melancholy songs or love songs that you can’t help but sing at the top of your lungs.

“You’re a Spice Girls fan.”

Y/N laughs fill the car, and Harry wishes he could store it in his memory forever; he knows he’ll never hear another sweeter sound. “Who isn’t, Harry?”

“Fine, you’re a Taylor Swift fan. You love those romance songs, and maybe Lana Del Rey. She’s got that unique voice.”

She takes in his response for a second, “I mean, you’d find them both on my playlists absolutely, but they wouldn't be top five on my Spotify wrapped.”

Harry chuckles, not surprised he was wrong, “well, who is it then?”

Y/N grins, taking Harry’s phone that was sitting on the console. Harry hears her typing away then a familiar beat fills the car, and she is quick to join the lead singer in singing.

“Paramore,” he states.

“Paramore,” she repeats. “They’re amazing,” she shrugs, “I’ve always seen them have fun with their music, and I love that.”

“My friend’s a co-writer with them on their new album,” Harry shares nonchalantly.

“Shut up!” Y/N yells.

“What?”

“Oh! That’s amazing! Ugh, I’m so jealous. I’ve always aspired to be Hayley Williams.”

Harry has never seen Y/N be more her age than right now as she gushes over a band she loves. He’s always seen her serious and professional, and he likes that side of her, but laidback Y/N is just as sweet. Harry can feel her creeping into his heart.

He’s disappointed when the GPS announces they’re right outside her home. He did not want the date to end. Harry knows he went about everything wrong with Y/N, but he hopes he can get a real chance with her after tonight. Y/N lets him walk her up, his hand on the small of her back. She’s fumbling with her keys stuck in her bag's zipper; he watches on, amused, until she flashes him a slight grin to show she’s got them.

“Thank you for today, Harry.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

“Would–”

Harry cuts her off, having almost forgotten an essential part of tonight, “forgot to hand you the check.” He chuckles, reaches into his coat, and slips out a folded check. He didn’t see Y/N’s face fall as if finally remembering the reason she went on the date tonight.

Y/N looks down at the check and knows that as meaningful as the date was for her, it was still a debt to be paid.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry doesn’t know what happened in a matter of seconds, but he doesn’t want the night to end on a heavy note, so he shares something weighing heavy on his chest. “I like you, Y/N,” he breathes out. He doesn’t let her answer. “I'll see you soon.”

Y/N watches Harry walk away, leaving her more confused than ever.

+

Harry was shopping for a gift. It was his niece’s birthday in a few days, and he knew that at eight, Abigail had become a big reader, what better gift than a few of his favorite books, as well as a year membership that allows her to get a new book each week. He was browsing a shelf when he froze, seeing someone at the end of the aisle reading a book. He didn’t expect to see Y/N so soon. She looked beautiful. Her hair was in a ponytail, a ribbon holding it all together. It seemed fitting for her. He didn’t expect to see her so soon after their date.

He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. It’s clear the date went well, at least to him, but when they said goodbye, he felt a shift. It was awful to realize, but Harry was nervous about approaching her. He wished he had a percent of confidence like he did going into corporate meetings, where he always owned the room the second he walked in. Yet, ten seconds in the presence of Y/N, he feels nervous and forgets every word in the English language.

After finally deciding not to approach her and instead head straight to the register, Y/N tucks the book under her arm and turns to find Harry right in front of her. He sees the surprise settle on her face, and he knows he needs to leave. Abigail’s presents can wait. He pretended he didn’t see Y/N and acted like it didn't break his heart to see her smile fall. Instead, he walked right past her like he wasn't hurting her or himself. He knew he was ruining his chances with Y/N, romantic and platonic.

Y/N stood in her spot, frozen. Harry brushed past her like they had not gone out on a “date” two nights ago. As if he didn’t tell her he wanted it to be an actual date that he “liked” her. It was a bunch of bullshit to toy with her feelings, but Y/N has decided she’s had enough. There will be a gala this coming weekend, and she’s decided he no longer deserves a minute of her time.

+

Harry was uneasy, arriving at the gala tonight. He hoped to find Y/N immediately because how they last saw each other left a bad taste in his mouth. He was done with these games. He didn’t care about anything else, not when all he wanted was Y/N, but first, he owed her an apology.

He spotted Y/N right away. He had come to learn that where the conversation was loud and joyful, that is where he would find her. She seemed to be the shining light of every event, as everyone who spoke to her always left with a dazed smile. It’s as if she bewitched them, and Harry knows he’s fallen under her spell as well, and he never wants it to end.

He could see she was guiding a conversation with ease. He took the time to admire her dress; her gowns never failed to leave him breathless, as if each one was perfectly made just for her. Tonight she wore a prune midi dress with a crew neckline and what Harry recognized as cap sleeves. The button detailing falls off-center, allowing the dress to give more shapes to areas of desire. The slit on her dress seemed to lie higher than other dresses he’s seen her wear, and he wished he was lucky enough to know what she had under.

Harry joins the group, pardoning for the interruption and addressing the group before letting his gaze rest on Y/N, who he sees standing close to the gentleman next to her. After a few seconds of staring at her, he can see where her arm is hooked in the crook of the man next to her.

He does his best to hide the shock. Seeing her at an event with someone else, let alone another man, doesn't feel real.

She always came alone.

Now here she was, smiling brightly with the man laughing at each joke she told.

“Mr. Styles,” she’s grinning, and it hurts to know he’s back to that formal name, no longer Harry. The reason she’s happy is because of the gentleman she’s proudly showing off by having him at her arm.

“Y/N,” his voice was low and defeated.

“This is–”

“Excuse me, will you–”  he interrupts before she can introduce her date. He was a fool for thinking he had a chance; he rejected her and bought a date. For fuck’s sake, he really screwed everything up. He heads to the bar hoping to drink away the time.

Y/N isn’t one to allow someone to walk all over her, but it seemed there always was an exemption to the rule, and for her, it was Harry Styles. He’s been insufferable from the moment she introduced herself to him, but she found him charming. She took a shot, and it didn’t land. That was fine. Their date was good but nothing more, not when it wasn’t real.

Tonight when she wanted to present Mr. Styles to her brother-in-law, Isaac, he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He was a real piece of work. As much as she didn’t want to believe all the rumors she was starting to hear about Mr. Styles, they were getting harder to deny, especially when he brushed her aside in almost every meeting they had.

“You alright, Y/N?” Isaac asks, escorting her away from two fellow donors who promised a check of $20,000 and over to the open bar on the other side of the room.

Y/N sighs. There’s no point in lying. “That’s Harry,” she muttered.

Isaac gasps, “no, the handsome guy who glared at me from the moment he walked in and saw you at my side.”

“The very one.” She doesn’t seem to pick up on the last bit of his sentence.

“He’s handsome,” Isaac states.

“And he knows it.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t a douche,” Isaac questions her, confused. “Or Matias said he hadn’t been.”

“You both gossip too much,” Y/N accepts the whiskey he hands her and takes a sip before hammering it all back.

“Taking it back to the old days, I see,” he teases.

“Piss off. You and my brother did much worse, if I recall.”

Isaac scoffs, “Matias and I were the perfect children. Don’t care what you say.”

“Your mother’s front door says otherwise,” Y/N reminds him.

“That’s not fair. You and Sapra took the car up to Bristol for the weekend.”

“With permission,” you remind him.

He scoffs, accepting anything whiskey from the bartender. “How have you two always been the favorites?”

“Because we didn’t fall in love with each other.”

“You’re a wanker!” Isaac nudges her side, careful to not spill her second drink.

Y/N laughs, leaning her head onto her brother-in-law's shoulder. She always has the best time with him. It’s the reason she asked him to come with her tonight, also because her brother asked for her help to get him out of the house to allow him to bring in and hide Isaac’s birthday gifts that he somehow always managed to find each year.

Isaac helps Y/N work the room. She had forgotten how much fun it was to hang out with Isaac. He seemed to always be a package deal with her brother, not that she minded but spending time with him reminded her how much he always made her laugh.

“He’s watched you all night,” Isaac informs her after returning with a new drink from the bar Y/N, having walked away from Daniel, a cold stone CEO who turned into a giant teddy bear promising a check of $10,000 after a five-minute conversation with Y/N.

Y/N shrugs him off, “I’m over it.”

“Sure, babes.”

Y/N scoffs, “I am.”

“You want to be under him, not over him,” Isaac tells her, not at all falling for her charade.

“But he’s been a dick.”

“I think he’s intimated.”

“Of?” Y/N questions.

“You, dummy.” Isaac gestures to Harry, who’s standing next to a few other men clearly in charge of the conversation, but he doesn’t seem to care because he glances at her every few minutes. “He’s probably never met a woman who’s asked him out to get to know him. Maybe he thought you were only trying to sleep with him.”

What Isaac is saying makes no sense to her, but maybe he has a point. Maybe Harry didn’t know her intentions, and that’s why he told her no, it doesn’t explain his other actions, but it is a start.

“Enough.” She’s tired of discussing Harry and would rather head home now before Harry gains the courage to approach her. “ I’m going to the restroom, and you’re getting my coat. I know a good place to eat.”

“You paying?” Isaac teases.

“Yes, you little diva.”

Isaac presses a loud kiss to her cheek, sending her off with a slap to her ass, “off you go.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his dramatics but goes off to do her business. She was feeling hungry tonight. Leaving the restroom, Y/N bumps into someone waiting right outside. She laughs as the person helps her straighten out.

“Haha, sorry there.” She really should be more careful.

“You okay?”

Y/N freezes. Of course, it’s him.

“All good,” she assures Harry.

“Good.”

She stands there awkwardly, waiting to see if he would say anything, but he stays silent.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she moves past him.

“Y/N, wait.”

She looks at him expectantly.

He sighs, and he runs his hand through his hair, a tell sign he’s nervous. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I was having a bad day and didn’t want to bother you.”

“Wasn’t so hard, huh, to let someone know you see them but didn’t have time to talk.”

He shakes his head, “not at all.”

“Hmm…”

“I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”

Y/N shrugs. “Well, it’s done, I guess. We don’t owe each other anything.”

Harry deserves her hesitancy. He hasn’t been good to her, but he misses seeing her smile and laugh at his awful jokes.

“Ready to go home, babes?” Isaac calls from behind Harry, holding up her coat.

She holds back a smile shaking her head at Isaac, who has a Cheshire grin. Harry looks at her like he wants her to say no, that she’ll stay with him, but she’s had enough of his games.

“Good night, Mr. Styles.”

“Y/N,” he reaches for her hand but stops. They both stare at his arm, having stopped inches from touching her until he drops it back to his side.

“Take care.”

Harry nods as he watches another man drape her coat around her, then place a hand on the small of her back and guide her out.

He really had no chance now.

+

Y/N loved ice cream.

When she was younger, her parents loved taking her out for ice cream after any kind of academic achievement, wanting to shower her with praise just as much as they did her brother, a star athlete. She loved coming because she got to pick a new flavor each week and also how they found out she was allergic to pistachio.

Growing up close in age, many thought she and Matias would not get along, but that was not the case being the younger sister allowed her to see her brother in a guiding light. She loved following after him at least she did until he pushed her down the last few steps of stairs for breaking his favorite crayon. He broke her arm, which she was allowed to hold over his head forever.

He was the reason she had to learn to write with her left hand. Their parents thought they would hate each other after that fight, but it only brought them closer together. Matias realized how fragile his sister was and vowed never to hurt her or anyone again. It's why he became a swimmer. No actual harm would come to him or anyone while Y/N gained the strength to stand up for herself, not wanting to be seen as weak.

As much as Matias denies it, his heart broke when Y/N met Sapra, her best friend, because it meant he was losing her as his best friend, something he’d never dare tell her. Sapra walking into Y/N’s life was amazing because it made her glad she had a brother because it meant she could have Sapra as the sister she never had. From the day they partnered in English for a project, Sapra being the new student and Y/N the star student, they did not go a day without each other. They became part of each other’s families and officially became sisters thanks to the help of their brother by falling in love and getting married.  Now here she was for her weekly ice cream date with Sapra.

“He didn’t!” Sapra gasps as Y/N explains how Isaac cut off Harry and escorted her out like a true gentleman.

Y/N nods, licking her caramel vanilla ice cream. “Yup, he looked like a kicked puppy.”

“Oh, that’s devastating.”

“It was.”

“I thought you liked him.”

She shrugs, “he’s all mixed signals. I ask him out, and he says no. I’m auctioned as a date he buys me. The next time I see him, he ignores me.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you.”

Y/N gives her a deadpan look. “We stopped right in front of each other. Had a book in hand, and he had a coffee. I waved, gave him a smile, and took a step towards him, and he stared past me and then walked past me.”

“Right…” Sapra realized there was no bright side to her situation.

“I seriously don’t get his problem. If this man says he’s doing all that because he likes me, I’ll call bullshit.”

Sapra sighs, “maybe he likes you but doesn’t like how forward you are. Maybe he’s into sweet innocent girls.”

“Ugh, this is why I don’t date. I seriously thought he’d be mature for being older. Seems all that money has clogged his brain.”

Y/N watches as her best friend laughs.

“Speak of the devil,” Sapra gestures behind Y/N, and she does her best to bite back a groan.  

“Noooo,” she groans. “This is my favorite shop.”

Harry notices Sapra staring at him and shoots her a polite smile. “He saw me.”

“He doesn’t know you.”

They decide to ignore him, and it works. Sapra finished her ice cream, and Y/N excused herself to the restroom claiming they had a few more stops before ending their day together. Y/N returns from the bathroom just in time to see Harry standing in front of Sapra, a cup of ice cream in his hand. As she gets closer, she meets Sapra’s eyes which are telling her to stop, but she doesn’t listen, able to catch Harry’s final words.

“--love to take you on a date.”

She’s not sure what to feel. Instead, she doesn’t let an inch of emotion show as she says excuse me taking her seat in front of Sapra again. Y/N sees the exact moment Harry’s face falls as he recognizes her. Then back to Sapra, the person she told him about on their so-called date.

“Y/N,” he breathed out.

“Mr. Styles,” she addressed him coldly. “See, you met my best friend, Sapra. We’ve spoken about her.”

He clears his throat, evident in the growing tension. Y/N’s expressions stay neutral while Sapra looks at Y/N, smirking.

“Well, Mr. Styles, as flattered as I am. The answer is going to be no.” Sapra shrugs, no longer meeting his eyes.

Harry fidgets with his rings, his discomfort apparent, “no, I understand.”

“Heard you met my brother. He’s a real charmer.” Sapra tells him.

“Sorry?”

“At the gala,” Sapra reminds him. “He was Y/N’s date. Think they make a great pair.”

Harry frowns, feeling his skin itch.

Y/n decides to end his suffering. “Isaac is Matias’ husband. My brother, I told you about him.”

“The older brother who painted your mum's wagon pink,” he checks to confirm.

“The very one.”  

“Have a nice day,” Sapra tells him harshly, cutting off the conversation from going any further.

“Good day.” Not an ounce of confidence in his walk. If anything, Y/N thought he looked sad.

Both girls watched him walk away until he was outside and in his car. Y/N isn’t sure what to say, but she can’t say she blames Harry. All through their time in school together, Sapra was the person all the boys asked out. While Y/N was the person, they went to for advice, not that she ever helped them. It wasn’t until she was at university did she realize she didn’t care what others thought. Y/N started working on her self-confidence, and she blossomed. When she first asked a boy in her English class, and he said yes, she felt empowered. She took that energy and put it into her work ethic. It’s why she’s so successful today. She will admit it hurt seeing Harry ask out her best friend, but it also helps put things into perspective that Harry Styles might not be the man she thought he was.

+

Harry is an idiot.

He has one girl on his mind, and to take his mind off her, he asks another out, only for it to be her friend, her best friend of all people. He really screwed this one up.

“You haven’t called me in a while,” Harry’s friend Mitch says as he sips his bourbon.

“I’ve been busy,” Harry mutters.

“Hmm…”

The two men sit in silence. It’s something they have always done. They are not ones to express their feelings unless they need to.

“What shit did you do now?” Mitch asks as he sees Harry pour his third cup of bourbon.

“Shit, Mitch. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Mitch gives him a pointed look, and Harry relents. “There’s this girl.”

“That’s a first.”

“As I was saying, she—she’s beautiful. And so god damn out of my league, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m fucking 33, and she has me acting like a teenager.”

“Ask her out, simple as that.”

Harry laughs bitterly. “No, Mitch, it isn’t. See, she asked me out, and I said no.”

Mitch winces, “ouch. Bruised her ego.”

“No, that's the thing. She acted unbothered and treated me with respect after.”

He knows he’ll regret that rejection for the rest of his life.

“What were you expecting? A drink in the face.”

He shakes his head, “course not.”

“Why is she a problem if you rejected her?” Mitch emphasizes.

“Because every time I see her, I feel my heart wanting to beat out of my chest. I see her speaking with another man too close, and I get jealous. Hell, I bet on an auction date with her, but I fucked it over by ignoring her the next time I saw her. And today, I was finally working up the chance to go out on a date to get her out of my head, and the person I asked out turned out to be her best friend, and she was right there.” Harry slumped back against his chair, bourbon now forgotten.

Mitch grimaces, “that doesn’t sound great.”

“It’s all shit.”

“Backtrack. Why did you reject her?”

Harry groans because he’d been a fool to say no. He thought he was too old for her or that she was looking for some fun in the sheets, and he wouldn’t disrespect her like that, not when he admired her. “She’s young.”

“Eighteen young?”

“No, you dick.” Harry spits out harshly.  “She’s in graduate school. She’s in her twenties.”

Mitch sits back on the couch, frowning.

“Spit it out.”

“It seems you made a mess of things for no reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Mitch takes a sip of his drink, getting all his thoughts together. “She asked you out, meaning you didn’t seek her out. If I recall, you said she knew your name.” Harry nods, and Mitch continues. “It means she was aware of your age difference. She had an idea of her chances being slim to none to you saying yes. She came in with the upper hand, but you carried the power with your response. You’re going about your feelings all wrong. If you’re not going to treat her like she knows she deserves, then leave her alone.”

Once Mitch had laid it all flat for Harry, he could see that Mitch had a point. She knew what she wanted from the moment they met, which intimated Harry for some reason. She sent him the drink, asked him out, and reached out while he hid and avoided. She held herself with grace and respect, and that somehow intimated him.

He wanted a chance with Y/N to prove to her he could be a gentleman, and he valued her time and respected her. He just had to find the right opportunity. His eyes flickered to the ripped invitation on his desk. An invitation to a Masquerade Ball in two weeks to support Global Warming. He knew who would be there. It was the perfect time to apologize and ask for a date, a real one this time.

+

Y/N hated being sick.

From a young age, she threw the biggest fuss when she would fall in and had to miss school. She told her parents that missing out on learning would ruin her life when she didn’t want her friends to forget her for the days she was gone. Given that when she would go back, she received big hugs; clearly, she was not forgotten.

Now, as an adult or graduate student living alone in her small but entirely her own apartment, she didn’t like to be sick, not when she had to work or had events to attend. Thankfully, Y/N’s work has always been flexible and has health benefits, so she can take the day off. The sad news is that there’s a gala, not one of hers this time, that she promised she’d attend with Sapra. The theme was masquerade, and Sapra had worked on her mask for ages wanting to stand out during the night, and Y/N couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Sapra had been looking forward to this night for ages, even writing it with a pen in her calendar, and she never did that in case plans changed. Y/N felt horrible, but thankfully Sapra was super understanding, and their good friend Dawn was able to come in and save the day. With the promise to send Y/N lots of pictures, they left her with soup and crackers to last her the next few days while she began to feel better.

Harry had been counting down the days to see her. He hoped he was able to spot her among all the people tonight because if not, he’d be asking every person in the room to remove their masks until he found her. He had decided on a gold mask with intricate black designs all around. His dear friend Alessandro took his time with it. He knew he’d take it back to his friend after it was too much of a delicate piece to keep for himself. He knew he would have no use for it after. His suit tonight was velvet, a deep black that held a shimmer in the right kind of lighting. Harry loved the little details in outfits, and he couldn’t wait to notice each one of Y/N’s tonight.

He must have walked around three times and nothing. Not a single citing of her. Harry decides to stop at the bar when a woman in a gorgeous red gown drops her mask, and Harry gasps. It was not Y/N; it was her best friend, Sapra. That meant Y/N had to be around here somewhere.

“Good evening, Sapra.” Harry interrupts her conversation with the short woman next to her. She’s in a yellow gown, one that reminds him of Kate Hudson’s in her iconic role in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He recognizes her as Bartolo’s worker in the shop. He hadn’t been there since Alessandro came back from his trip. “And Dawn, it’s nice to see you again.”

Dawn flashes him a smile. “You as well, Harry. Bartolo misses you. Says no one comes in to challenge him like you did.”

Harry nods, “I’ll have to visit soon, then.” Sapra elbows Dawn as if reminding her they weren’t team Harry. He notices, and before giving them a chance to make their exit, he asks the question that’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Where’s Y/N?”

Sapra and Dawn share a look before turning back to Harry, matching frowns on their faces. “Girl code, Mr. Styles,” Sapra tells him, voice full of distaste.

“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to speak with her,” he begs.

Dawn takes pity, having heard Harry bare his heart to Bartolo when he came in for a suit fitting about how nervous Y/N made him and that his confidence seemed to vanish around her. She thought it was a step in the right direction to ask them about Y/N despite his first meeting with Sapra.

“She’s sick,” Dawn shares, not caring that Sapra will give her shit for it later.

He frowns. She’s sick, and she’s alone. That doesn’t sound like a good evening. “Will she answer if I go?”

“You’re kidding?” Sapra asks.

Harry shakes his head, “please, I only came tonight in hopes of seeing her.”

Sapra turns around at the bar to speak with the bartender, and he gives her a napkin and a pen. She clicks the pen and turns around, handing it to Harry. He didn’t tell them he knew where she lived.

“She tells me you said something dumb, and I’ll make sure to burn your empire to the ground,” Sapra promises. Dawn whispers for her to cool it, but Harry understands where she’s coming from.

“Do you know when that restaurant closes down the block from her house? She told me she really likes their soup there.”

Sapra shared a look with Dawn. Yeah, it seemed that Harry had some feelings to sort through.

Harry takes a deep breath. He isn’t sure if she’ll let him in or even want to see him. If it were him, he’d take one look and slam the door shut. Well, he won’t know until he finds out. He knocks two times and takes a step back, allowing himself to look down at her doormat. There is a range of wildflowers displayed, and if Harry’s honest, he has no idea what their names could be. As Harry focuses on anything but the door, he fails to realize it has fallen open.

“Harry?” She whispers, confused.

Harry lifts his head, flashing her a smile. “Hi, how are you?”

She ignores his questions. “How are you here?” Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I bet it was Dawn; she’s a softie.”

“Do–Would it be okay if I came in?” He stutters.

Y/N tilts her head and looks his head to toe in his velvet suit, his mask forgotten in his car. She knows this is weird and has a right to kick him out, but he’s carrying a bag, and Y/N can smell the hot vegetable soup she craves when she’s sick.

She moves back, and Harry takes it as a sign to come in. He lets out a sign in relief. While Y/N locks the door, he toes off his shoes, noticing the shoe rack by the door. Y/N thanks him quietly, and he follows after like a lost puppy. She grabs two bowls while Harry begins to unpack the food. He wasn’t sure how much she would like, and Kim, the waitress, suggested two of their largest sizes, and he agreed.

Harry takes the bowl from Y/N and begins to serve her a healthy amount, knowing if she has too much, she could end up puking it all up.

“Thank you, Harry.”

She grabs her bowl and heads to her couch. As she settles in wrapping herself in a blanket, she sets the bowl on her lap. Harry stays frozen in the kitchen, unsure if he’s allowed in her space.

“Are you going to make me eat alone?”

“Sorry?” He breathes out.

“Serve yourself and come sit. You brought me so much soup I’m not going to finish it all on my own”

Harry grabs the second bowl, notices the strawberries, and laughs. He likes getting to see more pieces of Y/N. From her linked shoes at the door, he can tell she’s organized. As he walks further into her living room, he sees a full bookcase with hundreds of books and a little reading nook with a stack of books waiting to be read. He sits at the other end of her couch, sinking into the comfortable cushion; he smiles at her record player and wonders what she last listened to.

“Do you want a blanket?”

He sighs. Y/N’s a sweetheart treating him kindly, accepting him as a guest in her home. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

They settle into silence, and usually, Harry finds it annoying, always needing a conversation to be going even if he isn’t leading it. However, with Y/N, he relishes the silence because he enjoys her presence. No words are needed.

Y/N ate until she was full, meaning she left her bowl clean, not embarrassed to have Harry see her slurp the last bits of her soup. Harry refilled her water as he placed her rinsed dishes in her dishwasher.

“How was the gala?” She asks after he settles back in his seat.

“Awful,” he answers honestly. It was the truth, he knew Y/N prided herself in the work she did for each event, but he couldn’t lie to her.

Y/N frowns, “good means I didn’t miss anything important.”

He’s surprised she had no hand in the event, but if he thinks about it, each gala he has been in attendance of where Y/N has helped always went without a hitch. He can’t say the same about tonight. “You didn’t plan this event?”

She smiles at his shock. “Not this time. Sapra heard it was a masquerade ball and begged me to get her in. How were the ice sculptures?”

Harry laughs, “melting, a puddle of water all around.”

“Oh, bummer.” She shakes her head, upset she missed it. “They have awful AC in that building.”

Y/N proceeds to tell him about how they reached out, but she’s had a busy schedule, and as much as she loves her job, she’s still only an intern who needs time for her studies and herself.

“Is that why you fell sick? Overworking?” He asks, concerned.

She giggles, “no, I have a healthy work and life balance, thankfully.” Y/N’s phone rings interrupting her. She apologizes as she’s sending off a text before giving her attention back to him. “My neighbor Terry has a one-year-old, and I was babysitting her for the night. We didn’t know she had the sniffles until she woke up colicky from a nap. Turns out their bub was sick; thus, she gave me the bug that took me down.”

“How’s the bub doing?”

“Oh, she’s a fighter. She was not a big crier; she needed a few cuddles and medicine, and she was much better. The thing about babies: they get sick and are better the day after. Their bodies next time around will have now built a strong immune system able to fend it off even better.” Y/N feels her face flush, feeling she shared a bit too much.

Harry sends her a dimpled smile. “My little sister is having a baby in a few months. I think it’s essential to know how to help. Thank you, don’t think parenting books are always so helpful for uncles.”

Y/N can’t hide her grin at Harry’s confession. “Oh, that’s lovely, Harry. Send her my best. I have a link for the best stroller, and I mean the best. It's easy to fold even when she might be on her own. I’ll send it your way.”

Before Harry can thank her, a ding rings loud, and it’s his phone signaling, he’s received her message. “I appreciate it. It’ll make a good gift.”

Her eyes widened, seeing the stroller's price.  “Do you need a discount? I got lots of coupons for this website.” She offers.

Harry is surprised she offered. She must know he’s well off. A stroller that costs a few hundred bucks won’t make a dent in his bank account.

“Sent it anyway,” Y/N tells him. “It’s good for six months.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N grins, happy to be useful even when sick.

Harry takes in her tired eyes and knows he’s taken too much of her time. Instead of letting her rest, he made her stay up when she could have been sleeping.

“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome,” Harry stands up, offering her a sheepish grin.

“No–” she’s cut off by a yawn.

She laughs, rubbing her eye, trying to will the sleep away. “I’m sleepy when I’m sick.”

“Thank you for letting me in.”

“Thanks for the soup,” she counters.

Y/N walks him to the door, the blanket wrapped over her as she tries to keep herself warm. “Will you be alright alone?” He checks, not wanting to leave her alone if she gets worse while sleeping.

She notes his concern, and Y/N knows she can tell him it doesn’t concern him, but he did come out of his way to check on her. “Dawn promised she’s on her way here to give me cuddles. I'm a big baby when I’m sick. Get all clingy.”

Harry can imagine her lying on his chest, blankets up to her neck as he holds her close, rubbing her back. Warm tea and soup at hand to make sure she’s eating. He would love to care for her, but that would be crossing a line. Neither of them were ready for all because of Harry’s stupidity.

“Y/N, before I go, I wanted to apologize. I–It seems every interaction with you, I only seem to leave a bad impression. I genuinely think you’re an amazing person and felt lucky to take you on a date, but after ignoring you, I feel I keep messing everything up. Will–is it okay to call you my friend, or if we can take a step in that direction.”

She knows there’s no possible way they could be friends, not with the chemistry they have together, but Y/N appreciates where he’s coming from.

“Friends it is, Styles.”

“Friends,” he confirms.

And maybe something more.

+

It had been a month since Harry saw Y/N sick in her apartment. He texted her the morning after, and she promised she was doing better; her headache was gone. She teased him about the soup, saying it was the abundance of soup that cured her. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the fact that Y/N thought he was helpful. God, he was really head over heels for her, but they were friends. Friends that texted and sent photos of things that reminded them of each other (Harry was on the receiving end of most images. He did practice his use of emojis for her).

Y/N was going through exams and focusing on the internal work of her internship, as in paperwork and the hiring process to take her on after graduation. She let him know she was still considering her options, but Y/N knew she would be saying yes because the pay was well above what she went in asking for, and she had a healthy work environment. It made him happy to see how well things were going for her. It made him want to invite her to tour his office. He wanted to see her sit in his office chair as she looked at the view of the city.

Wake and Wonder were holding a gala to raise money for their new NICU ward. Harry was part of the board for this event and knew Y/N would be attending, having heard her name throughout the night from the guests. Over the last few months, Harry began to see the importance of these events and attending, most of the guests were snobby and stuck up, but every person working for their organization cared. They were working hard for others and not for their own gain. Harry might have it easy to write checks, so if he can give back, he will.

Tonight, Harry decided to be a bit bold. He left the velvet suit behind and wore a pink Alexander McQueen suit. A double-breasted jacket featured pink embroidered flowers with green stems and leaves down the front. He paired it with matching wide-leg trousers, a white button-down, and black boots. He felt confident in all his suits, but this one was special. It was the first suit he bought himself when he got his first client that would change his life. He knew it brought him luck, and he needed a bit of that tonight.

Every woman he encountered tonight had on a full-out gown. It seemed they were, for once, following the theme to a t. Harry was nursing an amaretto sour when a glimmer of yellow floated by in the corner of his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only one whose attention was caught. The person went straight to Alexander, the host for the night. He looked elegant in a black suit with gold embroidery around the jacket sleeves and down the front that connected to look like constellations. His partner wore something similar, opting for a deep blue to bring out his eyes, the gold embroidery found coming up his sleeves ending right below his elbows. Harry knew they had an eye for design and liked when they hosted events. The two men hugged her, thanking her. He didn’t realize he had gotten closer until he was able to pick up her voice.

It was angelic. It was familiar. It was Y/N.

She was wearing an elegant yellow satin gown. It had a princess silhouette with puffy short sleeves. He could see the corset back from the few feet away he stood. He knows Dawn must have had to help her, and for some reason, he can’t take the idea out of his head of helping her loosen the corset and out of the dress. It’s a fantasy he needs to push away as Y/N happens to be coming his way.

“Ms. Y/LN,�� he greets with a gentle smile.

“Mr. Styles,” she flashes him a bashful grin and makes her way across the venue to mingle with the guest.

Progress. 

That was progress. She offered him a gorgeous smile, one he knew would stay imprinted in his mind forever. Now, all he needs is to gain some courage. Throughout the evening, Y/N danced around him. It’s as if she could sense him coming and would shift in another direction, allowing them both to get tangled in conversation. Harry did not like the chase, but Y/N held all the power in her hands, and he’d do anything for a moment of her time.

Harry was tired, not of Y/N playing a game of mouse with him but of the event. Usually, he spends an hour at most and then heads home, but tonight he’s two hours in, and he’s tired of all the talks and acting like he isn’t dying to speak with Y/N, but he respects her, and he’s been an idiot for too long to ruin the foundation they have created.

He was watching couples on the dance floor, criticizing their waltz. Many were lost in conversation to remember the importance of holding their partner close and letting one person lead.

“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greets with a cheeky grin. He doesn’t hide his surprise as he looks away from the dance floor. He takes her in, admiring her shining eyes and perfect makeup.

“Hi,” he breathes out. “You look beautiful.”

Y/N offers him another smile, a more timid one than her previous one. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to dance?” Harry offers, extending a hand toward Y/N.

She stares at him for a second before placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, his right-hand settling high under her shoulder, his fingers together and pointed down. Her left arm rests softly on his shoulder like a bird perched on a branch. Her hand arched, fingertips behind his shoulder and thumb in front. He feels the lightest touch. Y/N raises her head, meeting his eye as she places the palm of her right hand in the palm of his left, resting her fingers in the cradle between his thumb and forefinger. They both fold their things softly over each other. It’s a light touch, and Harry gets the sense that Y/N is well-versed in the waltz.

“Have you waltzed before, Y/N?” Harry asks as he begins to lead. It’s one of the easiest dances to learn but easy to get lost if a partner is not allowed to lead.

She scoffs, “Surprised?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I am intrigued.”

Y/N laughs, letting Harry lead her around the dance floor. “In undergrad, a few GEs are pointless.” Harry gives her a pointed look. “Come on, Harry. You know what I mean.” The truth is he does. “Anyways, I took a dance class and learned a choreographed dance, tap, salsa, and waltz. That’s only a few.”

Harry nods, impressed, “a woman of many trades, huh.”

She shakes her head because it’s useless talents, but they’re hers. Who knows when one day she might need them, like today, dancing with a handsome man.

“I love this song,” Y/N tells him as he brings her back from a spin. “Moon river makes you feel lost in time.”

Harry agrees, “thank you, Aubrey Hepburn.”

Y/N gasps in surprise, “you know Hepburn?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He teases.

She feels her face flush because he’s right, but Y/N grew up watching these films with her grandmother every Sunday. Some children got taken to church, and Y/N was taught about the best movies to ever exist growing up.

“What’s tonight's theme?” Harry asks Y/N, no longer wanting to dance in silence. He loves her voice.

“Disney, but more specifically, Disney princesses,” she answers with a soft smile.

“And you are?”

She gestures to her dress, the beautiful yellow silk. “Don’t know, Ariel.”

He throws his head back laughing, she teases him with no care, and he loves that he did deserve it. It’s clear what princess she was trying to resemble. “You’re a beauty. You put Belle to shame,” he confesses.

Y/N bites back a grin. “Seeing as she’s an animated character. Thank you.”

Harry’s smile drops, and he falters in his seat, causing Y/N to stumble, but he rights her up like nothing happened. “No, I mean–”

“I know,” she breathes out, giggling at his panic.

As Harry releases the anxiety that passes through him, he goes back to complimenting Y/N. “You fit the role nicely.”

“Does that make you Gaston, my Beast, or Lumiere?” Y/N asks with a smirk.

He doesn’t take the bait.  “Haha, very funny.”

She shrugs, “I try.”

The song is coming to a finish, and Harry wonders how long she’s going to allow him to dance with her. “I’m no prince, but I’d like to be the person who’s able to capture your heart,” he confesses, putting everything out there.

“You’re a poet now?’

Harry smirks, “you don’t take compliments, do you, beauty?”

“I'm not easily swooned,” she confesses.

“I like challenges,” he answers carelessly.

Harry feels her stiffen instantly and knows he’s messed up. In a matter of seconds, he managed to ruin this fun, peaceful energy he had with Y/N.”

“Mr. Styles,” her voice cold and distant. “Thank you for the dance.”

She drops her hands and walks away. Harry reacts quickly. He goes to reach for her but thinks otherwise and instead calls her name.

“No, Y/N, wait, please,” he begs.

She pauses, turning to look at him.

“I shit- you make me incredibly nervous, and I hate that.” She frowns but lets him continue. “You make me question my every thought. Your beauty is overwhelming, and I–I’m older than you. I know that, and the fear of you not liking that or someone saying anything rude to you has stopped me from allowing myself to pursue you. I apologize. I’m so damn sorry.”

“The pursuit ended the minute you said no to me,” she tells him honestly.

“But I-”

She holds her hand up, and he stops talking. “I respect you, Harry. But I also respect myself. I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I’m not taking any part. It was a wonderful dance, but I’ll be on my way.”

Harry knows she’s right. He’s messed up, but she deserves his honesty. “Y/N, let me say one last thing.”

She gestures for him to go on.

“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t, but would you go on a date with me? No pretense or auction, just you and me where I can get to know you. I’d really love to get to know you.” He asks, putting his heart on the line.

She looks down at her heels, swaying back and forth, and the silence lasts a few seconds, but Harry feels it’s been hours by the time she replies. “Okay,” she agrees.”

“I respect–you will?” He asks, surprised.

She giggles, “I’d love to see you when you’re being charming because, truthfully, as much as I've been enjoying awkward Harry, I’d love to see more. You have my number, and it’s your only chance.”

Harry places his hand over his heart. “I promise I’ll treat you well. Thank you for saying yes.”

Y/N smiles, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Styles.”

He couldn’t wait to see her for their date.

+

This was his third time standing outside Y/N’s apartment door. This time was different. He felt he could throw up from the nerves. He spoke with his Mum before driving to Y/N’s apartment and shared how he felt nervous about a date. She reminded him he needed to be himself and wear his confidence with pride. It’s something he learned from a young age.

Growing up, he had crazy curls that led to endless teasing, and one day he decided he had enough and got a haircut. He looked in the mirror the following day and didn’t recognize who he was. He let himself be influenced by others, and since then, he decided he wouldn’t care what others said about him. While in uni, he grew out his hair going through the long hair phase that drove his Mum crazy, but his sister loved it as he allowed her to braid it. It’s also when he began getting all his tattoos. Harry had to go through a journey of self-discovery to gain his confidence and keep it.

Tonight, he had confidence, but his biggest worry was Y/N not enjoying the date. All he wants is for her to have a pleasant time with him with no ruse or promise of a check at the end of the night.

Harry knocks twice and waits for her to come to the door. There’s a bouquet of pink roses in his hands because it reminded him of Y/N. He doesn’t know her favorite, but he’ll be sure to ask tonight. Y/N opens the door dressed in what he assumes is her casual wear. She’s got loose jeans and a black button-up she kept open with a white top under. A white ribbon in her hair made her messy bun look perfect. He notices this is another time he sees ribbon in her hair, and he’s curious to see how many strings she has and how many colors. She’s beautiful, and he’d happily remind her every chance he gets tonight.

“Hi, Y/N, you look beautiful.”

Y/N smiles, accepting the flowers he is offering her. The pink roses are beautiful as if there were just cut from the garden. She gestures for him to come in as she grabs a vase from her kitchen. He’s quiet as he watches her work in her kitchen. Once satisfied with how they sit in the vase, she turns her attention back to him.

“Thank you, Harry. It was very sweet of you.”

Harry shrugs, a blush setting on his cheeks. “Anything for you, beauty.”

Y/N’s back is turned to him, not allowing him to see her reaction to the term of endearment. As she grabs her bag and slips it on her shoulder, she offers him a squeeze on his arm, and he takes that as an okay to keep using it. As she’s locking up her door, Harry waits and asks about her day. She shares about having an easy day of classes and how she’s glad she didn’t have to work. Harry opens his car door and helps Y/N into the car. Y/N can see what he means by charming now.

The drive is filled with aimless chatter about the songs Harry is playing and how nice the weather has been lately. Y/N notices they’re headed toward a residential area and not into the city. Harry decides to share what he has planned for them tonight.

“I was thinking we can have a wine and paint night in my backyard if you're up for it.” He runs his free hand through his hair, sparing a look at her before focusing back on the road.

“You want to paint?” She exclaims.

He shrugs, “thought it’d be fun.”

She leans back into her seat, keeping her eyes on Harry as he holds a tight grip on the steering wheel. “I think it sounds perfect.”

Harry sighs in relief, good that’s good.

Arriving at Harry’s house, he feels his nerves coming back because he’s bringing the woman he likes to the place he calls home, where he finds comfort. It’s where he comes back home after a long day of work. He doesn’t know what he’ll feel after seeing her among all his things because he’s sure she’ll be a perfect fit and will struggle to let her go.

Y/N takes in the art pieces he has around the entrance of his house and photos of his family. The credenza by the entrance holds a key bowl where Harry drops his wallet and keys inside. He doesn’t remove his shoes and instead goes through the kitchen's double doors. Y/N isn’t sure if she is supposed to follow him, but a book on his coffee table captures her attention. It’s titled Raising Good Humans. She reads the first page as Harry makes his way back to her with two glasses of wine, one red and one orange.

She places the book down when Harry offers her a choice, and she accepts the orange wine, curious how it might taste. He gestures to the book, “I bought it for my sister, but I realized she probably won’t want to read it all, so I’m highlighting and bookmarking the important sections.”

Y/N hums in surprise. She didn’t take Harry for a caring guy, but here he is, proving her wrong. It’s clear how much he loves his family. “I’m sure she appreciates all the help.”

Harry laughs, “she told me she’s waiting to cash in for all the times I ever embarrassed her.”

“Oh, I understand being the youngest with an older brother. I swear he lived to embarrass me.” She shares that as much as she loved Matias, he was still a pain in her butt at one point in her life.

“Someone needed to look out for her,” he offers. “Come on, it’s out this way.”

His kitchen is gorgeous. The kitchen has color-filled floral wallpaper. There are pops of colors, making the backdrop feel neutral. The cabinets are maroon, closer to pink than red, and the three chairs are muted cyan that sit against the countertop. Y/N can see herself taking a seat there as Harry cooks them dinner. She shakes the thought out of her head and heads out the French patio doors where two easels sit side by side, a small stand in between them to hold their glass of wine and cheese that Harry has set up for them.

“I’m lactose intolerant,” she shares as she eyes the cheese.

Harry’s eyes widen in surprise, and he mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me not even asking what you would prefer. I have cookies if you’d like. They’re gluten-free though or–”

He cuts himself off when he sees her laughing behind her wine glass, and that’s when he realizes she’s joking. Harry shakes his head, their laughter mixing together in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters.

“You’re cheeky, beauty.”

Y/N sets her finished wine glass down as she sees a black canvas apron with her name embroidered resting on what she assumes is her chair. She lifts it gently, running her finger over the yellow stitching. Harry slips his one, his last name embroidered on his, and she knows these must have been specially ordered. The material feels expensive and as if it were made with great care.

“Harry, this is too much.”

He laughs, “it’s nothing, Y/N. I wanted tonight to be special.”

She slips the top over her head and turns away from her, “can you help me tie the back?”

Harry steps close, standing right behind her, his mouth right by her neck. Y/N feels tense at the close intimacy. She doesn’t hurry Harry; she simply enjoys the closeness he’s offering her.

“All done,” he whispers.

She turns to meet his gaze, his eyes lingering before flickering to her lips. He nods, taking a step back, not wanting to cross any lines with her. He’s letting her set their pace.

“More wine, Beauty?”

“Yes, please. It was so good. It tasted just like an orange.”

Harry knows her lips must taste just as sweet. “It’s a favorite of mine. Glad you like it.”

He fills their wine glasses and comes back to sit next to her. He explains all the materials he has for them and how the painting to recreate is a lighthouse with a night sky background. It looks complex, and Y/N knows if she tries to copy it, it will look nothing like the original.

They began painting in silence. Harry had instrumental music playing and told her she could play what she liked, but she assured him she was enjoying the music. The silence was soon filled with chatter as Y/N asked questions, and Harry happily responded. What jobs did he work growing up? Bakery and a bookstore. If he was a good swimmer? Yes. His worst hangover? His best friend Mitch’s bachelor party in Greece. What he liked to bake? Cherry tarts. The questions never seemed to end because she wanted to know everything, but Harry was the same. He asked about her travels and where she wanted to go in the next year? Amsterdam. Her favorite movie? Pride and Prejudice. Her favorite book? A Thousand Splendid Suns.

Y/N was learning a lot about Harry and wanted to soak it all in, not forgetting anything. The first time she met Harry, she thought he was closed off and stuck up. That he had walls up so high, he’d never let anyone in, but Harry today was charming and kind. He gave her his undivided attention and asked questions wanting to get to know her. Harry was closed off because of his high position and how easily people had walked over him. Y/N had always worn her heart on her sleeve, but tonight with Harry, she wanted to keep it protected, but he made it so easy to give herself away.

“Are you ready, beauty?”

She takes a long look at her finished painting and decides she has no other choice. “Ready,” she breathed out.

Harry and Y/N turn their painting to each other, and Y/N gasps at Harry’s beautiful painting while Harry laughs at hers. Harry managed to draw a perfect resemblance of the lighthouse with the moon shining bright and the water so reflective that she felt if she touched it, her hand would go through the painting. “That’s gorgeous, Harry.”

Harry pointed to Y/N, “what did you draw?”

Y/N pouts, looking down at her painting. It might not be a lighthouse, but she loved what she painted. It’s a mermaid with short brown hair and a flower on their head. The scales of the mermaid’s tail were various shades of yellow, green, and blue. The mermaid was looking away into the deep blue sea background. It was nowhere near perfect, but she loved it. “It’s you,” she tells him. “As a mermaid–or well, merman.”

He points to himself, “that’s me!”

She giggles, proud of herself. “Yes, how I picture you if you were born a mermaid. I reckon you’d be the heir to the throne.”

Harry blushes and knows Y/N can tell. He doesn’t mind because she deserves to see the effect she has on him.

“I think I’d be a good-looking mermaid.”

“You'd be the prettiest mermaid in the sea, no competition.”

Harry giggles, letting the compliment soak in. “If you were there, I imagine I’d have a run for my money, beauty.”

She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Harry,” she drags out his name, turning away from him, her smile wide. His dimples pop out as he holds back from teasing her and instead asks if she’s hungry.

“I’d love some pizza,” she tells him honestly.

“Then I’ll get you pizza, beauty. Any preferences for toppings?”

“Love jalapeños.”

“Is pepperoni and jalapeños alright?”

“Perfect, Harry. Thank you.” She leans in to give him a kiss on his cheek. Harry mumbles no worries, his face burning from the sign of affection.

Dinner was delicious, and pizza was the perfect meal to share. Harry wrapped the leftovers and slipped them into a paper bag for Y/N to take home. She argued he should keep it because he paid (she offered, but he refused), but he told her that he remembered life during university, and she couldn’t argue with that logic. Harry drove her home, promising he only had that original cup of wine, and then switched to sparkling water. While Y/N allowed herself to have three glasses, two during the painting session and one during dinner. The drive to her apartment was different than driving to his house. They went from quiet small talk and listening to Harry’s playlists to telling each other their favorite childhood stories.

By the time Harry pulled up to Y/N’s apartment, she had realized that more dates like this with Harry would make her fall deep in love with him. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but a second date sounded perfect. Harry opened her car door and walked her to her door. He handed Y/N her bag and the leftover pizza after she unlocked the door, and she placed the items on her small entrance table. She shut the door, turning to look at Harry and bid him good night. Y/N realized through the night, Harry was careful with his touches and would only reciprocate anything she initiated.

Harry stares at her with a dimpled smile, and she knows that smile will become her weakness.

“My favorite flowers are calla lilies,” she tells him as she leans against her apartment door.

Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Does that mean she enjoyed tonight as much as he did? “Does that mean we’re going on a second date?”

She smirks, “I’d be open to the idea.”

He steps towards Y/N, allowing her to stop him, but she doesn’t. Her hands come to rest on his chest. He’s thankful she doesn’t mention the quickening of his heartbeat.

“Is this okay?” He breathes out.

“Mhm…”

Y/N’s hands fist the ends of his open jacket. He doesn’t care if his jacket wrinkles. He only cares that she wants him closer.

Harry leans his head down, his nose brushing against hers. Y/N pulls him closer, desperate to close the gap between them.

“Beauty,” he whispers.

“You can kiss me.” She tells him, “I want you to kiss me.”

She stands on her tiptoes, her hand curling around the back of his neck. His skin is warm, and I grab the hair at the nape and pull him toward me. Y/N knew she would end the night kissing him when he showed up with pink roses at her front door, calling her Beauty.

His hands came up to her cheeks, his mouth eager as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming, she knew kissing Harry would be like no other, but this was everything. He was gentle but firm and in control of the kiss. He knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her. He tasted of cherries, his lip balm he told her he carried everywhere, never one for dried lips. It paid off because his soft lips were addictive, and after getting a taste, she didn't know how long she’d be able to go without him.

“You taste sweet, beauty,” he confessed, pulling back, giving her a dimpled smile when he saw the dazed look on her face.

“You can have another taste.”

Harry giggles, “if I knew a kiss would make you so kind, I’d have kissed you sooner,” he teased.

“You can keep kissing me now,” she offered.

Harry was tempted to say yes, to keep kissing her out here as the moon shined down on them, but he knew he’d see her soon. He’d make sure of it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow to plan out our next date.”

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Sweet dreams, beauty.”

Harry kissed her one last time, then broke away. She leaned against the door frame as she watched him walk towards his car, turning to wave at her one last time before driving away.

Yeah, Y/N was excited to see Harry again.

+

After their date, Harry spent every free moment he had with Y/N. Their second date consisted of bowling and wings. Y/N had managed to win by a landslide. Harry complained how it wasn’t fair and to make up for Harry being a sore loser Y/N was happy to indulge him in kisses. It seemed Harry was a winner after all. Harry promised her he wanted to keep seeing her, and Y/N repeated the sentiment.

It seemed from then, their time together grew. Harry would visit Y/N during her lunch on the days she was at work and grabbed dinner most nights after her internships. Harry would pick Y/N up from campus and ask her what she was in the mood for. The answer was almost always ice cream which he was happy to indulge her with.

Sunday, he came to learn were grocery days for Y/N, and after he paid for her the first time he went, he got banned from accompanying her again, which led to Harry sending her groceries every other week. She couldn’t get mad because, without fail, her bouquet of calla lilies would arrive soon after. Y/N had never felt affection this way, and after a talk with Harry, he expressed it was his love language and quality time. He thought he was overwhelming her and promised he’d do better, and it broke her heart for Harry to believe she was anything but appreciative. After talking, she allowed him to surprise her with small gifts, but nothing out of the ordinary because if he showed up with a diamond necklace, she would be breaking up with him.

“Does that mean we’re dating Beauty?”

She rolls her eyes, “unless you don’t want to.”

He clicks his tongue at her response, “now, don’t be mean, baby.”

Y/N seemed to always fall for his term of endearment; something about his accent got her going crazy. “Yes, Harry, we’re dating.”

Harry smirks, liking the thought of being Y/N’s. Their time from then on increased. From coffee dates to morning walks on the weekends and late-night phone calls when Y/N couldn’t sleep and would ask Harry to keep her company. It seemed to happen during the middle of the week, and he’d wake up tired the next day for work, but Y/N was worth it. She apologized every time she called and sounded like she woke him up, but he’d ask Y/N to tell him about her thesis, and she’d settled down as he listened intently and asked her questions when it was allowed.

On weekends Harry would come over to Y/N’s and spend the evening making dinner together, watching TV shows Harry has never heard of, and Y/N promised he needed to watch because he was missing out. Truthfully, he watched to indulge her but came to look forward to their time watching New Girl together. Their evenings started with them sitting next to each other, then her arm resting on his thigh and his arm over her shoulder. He realized Y/N was a big cuddler, always wanting Harry to hold her and be the little spoon. He didn’t mind loving how snug she felt against him. She started falling asleep halfway through the episodes, laughing when Y/N mumbled a reply to the show. Over time, they’d go from cuddling to Y/N sitting in his lap kissing, ignoring whatever was on TV. Their hands explored everywhere above clothing. They rocked against each other, but they’d always stop before taking it a step further, and Harry respected Y/N too much to cross a line she wasn’t ready for with him.

Harry was happy to have her kisses.

Y/N, at this point, had talked so much about her thesis that Harry could understand from a certain perspective what she was writing about and allowed him to read over his thesis and make any annotations for her to fix, grammatically, of course. Harry was honestly very proud of her; it was clear how much work and dedication she had put into her thesis, and he knew she'd do it with ease when it was time to defend it.

“You’re my smart girl, huh. Going to run the world.”

Y/N would hide her face in his chest when he began with the compliments, easily getting overwhelmed. It seemed that dating Harry had brought her happiness she never saw coming.

It was odd if they spent time at Harry’s house. It was more convenient for them to spend time at Y/N’s. Harry didn’t mind because he loved being surrounded in a space that was all hers. Tonight, Harry took Y/N to a sushi restaurant for dinner, and instead of driving her back home, she promised it was still early enough to go to his house and watch a movie. She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet pout, and he found himself saying yes. He can’t remember a time she allowed him to say no, not that he would ever want to.

Harry played a documentary he had wanted to watch, and Y/N promised she’d stay awake and that the coffee she had earlier in the day would help. Although he doubted it because her coffees seemed to always be on the sweeter side. It was half an hour in that he heard her soft breathing. He knew she would be sleeping until the end of the documentary. Harry was happy to have her cuddled to his chest, that she was comfortable enough to fall asleep. It was close to two hours later that the documentary ended, and Harry looked at the time and realized how late it was and that he still had to drive Y/N home.

“Baby, wake up.”

Nothing. He tried again.

“Beauty, come on. Got to get you home.”

She groaned, burying her face deep in his neck, not bothering to pick her head up.

“Come on, it’s late, baby.”

She raised her hand to her mouth, covering her yawn as she began to sit up.

“Hi,” he cooed softly. “I’ll give you a minute, then we can head out.”

Y/N shook her head, “can I stay?” she whispered.

Harry couldn’t hide his surprise at her request. “You want to stay here?”

“Please, lovie?” Her eyes were filled with sleep, and he wanted her to stay; of course, he did. Tomorrow was Sunday, and the fact that he had the chance to wake up to her tomorrow would not be something he passed up.

“Of course, baby.” Harry lifts his hand to cradle her cheek. She turns her head to kiss his palm; he feels himself melt at her affection.

He helps Y/N to her feet and guides her up the steps to his bedroom. She walks in and sits on his bed as he finds her clothes.

“There’s face wash, a spare toothbrush, and towels in the bathroom for you to use,” he tells her as he hands her an oversized shirt and spare boxers. She thanks him silently as she drags herself to his bathroom. As Y/N gets herself ready for bed, Harry does the same. He washed his bedsheets two nights before and knows it’ll be okay for Y/N to sleep in. As Harry slipped out of his button-up and pants, he wore shorts and an old Stevie Nicks shirt, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable.

She walks out a few minutes later, clothes in her hand, his oversized company t-shirt on her frame with nothing else. He’s quick to avert his gaze, surprised to see her only half-dressed.

“Were the boxers not okay?”

“Don’t want them to sleep. Is that okay?”

He nods “ of course, come on, let me tuck you in.”

Y/N drops her clothes by his window nook. Harry has imagined Y/N in his room more times than he counts but now that he has her here, he knows he’s never going to get the image out of his head. She gets under the covers and sighs when the cool sheets hit her skin. She scoots all the way to the middle of the bed. Harry checks to see if she’s comfortable and is about to turn the lights off and leave when she calls his name.

“Where you going?” Y/N asks, concern in her voice.

“To the guest room.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?”

Harry’s heart feels heavy in his chest, seeing that he has upset her. “I didn’t want to assume,” he tells her honestly.

“Come, sleep with me.” She extends her hand to him, and he’s happy to accept. Harry throws the cover away and drags himself right next to Y/N, placing his hand on her waist and bringing her closer. She turns to rest her head on his chest, using him as a pillow.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Perfect.”

Harry closes his eyes but feels Y/N move. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Kiss, please?”

If he wasn’t careful, he’s sure he’d fall in love with Y/N, but something tells him it’s a little late for that. He leans down and presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. She hums in appreciation, letting him pull away without a fight giving her a final kiss on her forehead. Now they can both sleep content. As Y/N settles back down on his chest, about to close her eyes, a painting on Harry’s wall captures her attention. It’s hanging next to a photo of a lake in his hometown. It’s a mermaid painting, specifically the one she painted with Harry on their first date two months ago. She told him to keep it, but she didn’t think he’d actually hold on to it, let alone hang it up for him to see every day he wakes up. Y/N sighs against his chest, snuggling closer to him, feeling content to fall asleep in Harry’s arms, knowing she’ll be safe and cared for because Harry never fails to shower her in love and affection.

She can’t wait to make breakfast with him tomorrow, but for now, she’ll sleep.

+

Harry regretted inviting Y/N to the golf tournament. Pleasing hosts this golf event annually for new and old partners. He hadn’t prepared for how good she would look dressed in an active pink skirt and a white polo tank that hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was up and out of her face, and she had a pink visor on her head to prevent sunburn. She looked prepared for a game of golf, where she promised she wouldn’t play besides chatting up the investors. He was clearly in over his head. Harry had taken one look at her when he picked her up and asked her if she wanted to stay home with him instead. She laughed, hopping into his car, reminding him he had promised her breakfast and she was craving a bagel.

“Beauty?”

“Hmm…” She turned to look at Harry with a beautiful smile on her face, just for him.

He reaches over and brings her in for a kiss. He sighs against her mouth, happy to have her here with him. As much as he loves his company, he only does this to make more connections and keep his company growing.

“If you get tired or hungry, just let me know, and we can take a break.”

She shakes her head, “this is important for you,” she reminds him. “I’ll be fine. Plus, you fed me and filled my water bottle.” She rubs her tummy to show him how full she still is.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my priority.” He assures her.

Y/N scrunches her nose, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You’re an absolute sweetheart, lovie.”

Harry hurries out of the car to help Y/N out, earning him another kiss, he’s tempted to push her up against his car and keep kissing her, but Y/N seems eager to see him golf. He checks them in and gets the keys to his golf cart as she waits on the side, looking at the clean facilities. She overhears the receptionist telling Harry they’ll start at hole one on the east side, and his guest will be sent that way.

She trailed behind Harry taking in the lovely view in front of her. His outfit was anything but ordinary. He wore pastel yellow flared pants that hugged his ass just right. A black polo tucked in and a simple Gucci belt completes his look. He decided against a hat but had his glove ready on his left hand for that extra support. Y/N loved the contrast of his tattoos and how his tan skin seemed to shine due to the sunblock she helped lather him in. He almost always has hidden his tattoos, wearing a suit and sweater. She knew it was because of work, and he was easily cold, but she never took moments like these for granted. The contrast of tattoos on his arms while his left hand had endless tattoos, his right hand only a few. She had to wonder what he hid underneath. She had only ever seen the peek of two swallows on his chest.

“Beauty, you alright?” Harry is standing against a golf cart numbered thirteen. It’s been known to be an unlucky number, but she’s never seen it that way.

She shakes away her thoughts and focuses on the man in front of her. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart since the moment they started officially dating a few months ago, and she’s thankful she decided to give him a chance and that he proved to be a good person and not the cold man she met many moons ago,

“Sorry, I was just admiring. Haven’t been to the golf course in some time.” She takes his extended hand and slides into the golf cart, his hand settling on her bare, exposed thigh. A shiver runs up her spine. She’s ready to take it to the next level with Harry but has no idea how to bring it up.

Harry and Y/N don’t have to wait long when a group of men and a few women come and greet Harry. There is a mix of young and older individuals chatting, and Y/N right away spots the man who keeps to himself, much like Harry. He’s an older gentleman dressed in black slacks, a maroon vest, black gloves on both hands, and a frown on his face. Harry introduces her to Jeff, Niall, and Tyler, his good friends. He promised her if she needed anything, she could ask them. They were all welcoming, asking her questions, not a lot of teasing, but they assured Y/N that Harry wasn’t the grump he made himself out to be.

During the first few holes, a lot of conversation was happening, and Y/N sat in the golf cart because she didn’t know how she fit into this crowd. She was a graduate student among these men and a few women who run these million-dollar companies. She hated that Harry felt obligated to bring her because it was their date night, and he didn’t want to cancel their plans. He convinced her when he told her he’d miss her too much if he didn’t see her this weekend.

Harry, after every swing, turns to find Y/N, who’s already looking at him. He came over, and she’d kiss him, telling him how impressive the swing was and that she knew he would win. Slowly, Y/N began to let herself mingle and talk with the other players. She seemed to always gravitate back towards Harry and his small group.

Y/N was standing, arms crossed, visor lowered as the sun beamed down on her. There was a lot of chatter when she realized that the man with the vest who caught her eye was alone again; she decided to approach him as Harry was wrapped up in conversation.

“Hi,” she greets. “I’m Y/N.”

The tall man with eyes as blue as the ocean turns to look at her. He looks at her stretched hand and reaches out to shake hers. “Malcolm Levington. A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”

“You as well, Mr. Levington.”

He grimaces, “Malcolm is fine.”

She shrugs, “if you say so.” Before he can ask what she’s doing speaking with him, she asks a question. “What is it you do?”

“I’m the owner of Star Horizons,” he shares.

“The hotels,” Y/N gasps.

He laughs, “the very one.”

“Oh, your hotel ballrooms are hard to get a hold of. I’ve been trying to plan an event there for ages. It finally happened a few months back, but it hurt to be told the wait was so long.”

Mr. Levington frowns, “what event was it?”

“Oh, uh, we had a private action event for Hermanas Unidas. They wanted to raise money to open a second location. We exceeded expectations thanks to generous donations and hired full-time staff to get it up and running in two months.”

“That’s wonderful. I heard about this event; it was one of the smoothest experiences we have ever had. We had no problems with staff or guests. We got a lot of guests to come back and stay with us. Were you in charge?”

She grins proudly, “no, I work with the sub-events teams. It’s part of my job to help nonprofits with their events to get donations.”

“Impressive work. Would you care to tell me more?”

Y/N happily indulges Mr. Levington as he tells her about the degree she is working towards. She shares about each event she has worked on. He offers ideas on how to help and ideas for new events. He promises to attend her next event.

“Y/N?” Harry calls her name, interrupting their conversation.

“Harry, I was speaking with Mr. Levington,” Y/N tells Harry, holding onto his forearm and giving it a loving squeeze.  

Mr. Levington looks between Y/N and Harry, a curious look on his face. “Are you his wife?”

“Oh, he’d be so lucky,” Y/N tells Mr. Levington, a loyal partner to Pleasing. She found out a mere seconds ago as Harry whispered it in her ear.

Harry laughs, “Y/N’s my–”

Y/N rolls her eyes. These men don’t need to know about her and Harry, not that she’d mind him showing her off. “Enough about me. Tell me about that TaylorMade Stealth PLus Driver you have there. I hear it has low spin.” She points to the clubs a few feet behind them.

“You golf, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Levington asks, surprised.

Y/N leads the man away, turning to look at Harry, offering him a wink as the man tells her about his clubs.

They’re about to head to the next hole when he sees Y/N still chatting. The man held on to her every word.

“Now I hear the Sims 2 has a better grip as it’s more lightweight. But don’t take my word for it, I haven’t had the chance to swing it, but from what I’ve heard Harry and Mr. Rowland discuss, I’d say you ask him for a chance to swing, but I do know how you all are about your clubs.” She tells him, knowing she is setting up Harry for an interesting conversation.

“Y/N,” Harry calls for her once again. She turns to see him with a bright smile on her face. “We’re ready for the next hole. Y/N loves to chat, Mr. Levington”.

“She’s a dear. She was telling me about your driver. Seems she thinks mine has a problem.”

“Now, now, don’t go twisting my words,” Y/N chastises.

“Only teasing, Ms. Y/N.” Mr. Levington turns his attention back to Harry. “Think you’ll let me take a swing, Mr. Styles?” Mr. Levington asks.

Harry offers him a sincere smile. “We can work something out.”

“A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”

Harry stands with a hand on her waist as they watch him walk away. “What did you do, you little minx?”

“What do you mean?” She feigns innocence.

“That man,” he gestures to Mr. Levington, walking next to Jeff with their caddy. “Always comes to our events and never says a word. Here you have him yapping on and on about clubs you probably don’t care about.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” she confirms.

“Then, beauty? You don’t have to be flattering all these old men.” He tells her honestly.

“Jealous, H?” Y/N teases, stepping closer to him, her hand resting on the back of his neck.

Harry hums at her touch. “Course I am. Prettiest girl here on the green don’t want to share you with anyone.”

She leans on her tiptoes, pressing a quick peck on his lips. “Promise I’m enjoying myself.”

“Will you still ride with me?” He asks her, as he hadn’t helped her onto the golf cart after each hole.

“Am I driving?” She waits expectantly.

He offers her the keys, which she snatches up before he can even think of pulling his hand away. “Now, now. Give me a proper kiss, and we’ll go.”

She doesn't even fight him, simply leans in and kisses him. Harry hums at her sweet cherry taste. He knows she must have stopped the cart girl and asked for a Shirley Temple with extra cherries, her favorite.

“Come on, Harry. I want to see you flex those muscles as you swing that club around.”

She skips towards his golf cart labeled thirteen. He sees her skirt bounce, and he groans. He takes a moment to remind himself to breathe. He could do this for a few more hours. He might lose his mind by the end of the evening, but he would endure it.

Safe to say, by the time they reached the last hole, Y/N had all of these men eating out of her hand. Each person listens as she tells another story.

“She’s a good one,” Mr. Levington tells Harry as Y/N tells the others about the time she went to a museum, and security gave her a private tour because she resembled a famous artist. “Never seen anyone so charming. Surprised she picked someone as sour as you.”

“Hmm…clearly, her magic worked on you. Can’t remember the last time you spoke to anyone besides your clubs,” Harry answers honestly, knowing he is lucky to have Y/N.

Mr. Levington chuckles. “Touche Styles. Keep her around. She's good for business and you, it seems. That facade has dropped.”

“Yeah, she’s one of a kind.”

“H,” Y/N yells, “Come tell them about the penguin. How he’d follow my every move.”

“Seems you’re wanted, Styles.”

They bid each other goodbye, and he makes his way over to Y/N. Harry doesn't think twice before taking her outstretched hand, launching into the story of how both penguin and Y/N had been amused with each other.

By the time they get home, Y/N’s exhausted. She wasted all her energy conversing with everyone and now needs to re-energize. Harry stopped by and got them burgers on their way to his house. They were quick to devour in the parking lot.

“Can I stay here?” Y/N asks as she throws herself on his couch, landing face down.

“Don’t want to go home, baby?” He slips off her shoes, giving her calf a squeeze.

She lifts her head searching for him. “If it’s okay. You got that nice bath I want to soak in, please.”

He walks over to her, planting a kiss on her head. “Course you can, beauty. I’ll go set it up for you.”

The bath is the perfect temperature as Y/N sinks in, sighing as her body relaxes. She apologized to Harry because she knew he was the one who must be exhausted from a long game of golf, but he was quick to assure her that it made him happy to take care of her. There was an abundance of bubbles around the tub, so she called Harry back into the room. She wanted him to keep her company.

Harry sat down at the edge of the tub, a bowl of strawberries in hand that he knew Y/N would be happy to eat. He offered her one, and she took a big bite humming at the sweet flavor filling her mouth.

“Yummy,” she giggles.

Harry thumbs away the bit of juice running down her chin; he brings his thumb up to his mouth and licks it clean, “yummy, indeed.”

Y/N feels her face flush and wants to sink underwater but keeps her gaze on Harry. She’s naked in his tub and wants him to touch her. She just has to let him know.

“Another, baby?”

She shakes her head no.

He frowns but doesn’t fight her; instead places the strawberries on the counter. He settles back down until Y/N gestures for him to come closer. He smirks but does as she asks. He leans in close until they’re nose to nose, and she presses her lips against his. She moans as Harry slips a hand in her hair; he pulls back as Y/N looks up at him, dazed. She follows him, but he doesn’t let her kiss him. Y/N whines for him to come back.

“What do you want, beauty?”

Y/N pouts. She doesn’t want to say it. Isn’t it clear what she wants?

“Harry,” she whines.

“Need you to say it, Y/N. Not a mind reader.”

Y/N sighs because he’s right. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his thigh through his pants. “I want you to touch me,” she breathes out. She lifts her head, meeting his gaze. “I want you to touch me, please.”

Harry runs his hand down her neck, following a water droplet until he reaches the top of her breasts. “Is this okay?” His finger skims along the top, and Y/N wants more. She needs more.

“Yes,” she huffs, eager for his touch.

His hand sinks into the water, caressing her breasts, and she leans into his touch, moaning as he gets to know her body more intimately. He shifts position to kneel next to the tub, his hand pinching her nipples until she hisses from the contact. His lips settled on her neck as he bites down in different spots. It’s all so much, but Y/N is loving every second. His hand dances over her until Y/N has enough and directs him to where she needs him. His fingers glide over her steadily, whispering touch that works her into a frenzy, filling her with need. His mouth drifts down her jaw to the delicate space behind her ear. He swipes his tongue across her skin before blowing cool air, and a shiver wracks her body.

“Harry,” she whispers.

He finds her clit, rubbing his thumb back and forth in circles as he gives her the pleasure she’s been searching for. She loses her train of thought as he curls one finger inside her and rubs her in all the right places, bringing her closer to the edge faster than she thought possible. Her orgasm is fast and blinding. She grips the tub’s edge so hard that her hand aches, but Harry doesn’t stop.

“One more,” he whispers, his mouth tangling with hers in a hot kiss as they battle for control.

She shakes her head, “c-can’t.” She doesn’t think she’s ever orgasmed back to back with a partner in bed. She orgasms just fine, she can admit she’s had shit partners in bed before, but no one has ever treated her with so much care and passion as Harry.

“Oh fuck,” she yells as Harry wipes away the bubbles uncovering her breasts. He moves away from her lips, not caring that there’s water spilling over the edge as he drags his tongue over each pebbled tip promising Y/N next time, he’ll focus more attention on them.

Each touch Harry gives her is magic. She loves how in control he is of her body as he works to provide her with what she needs. His thumb moves quicker over her clit, two fingers moving in and out of her slick, making it easier for him. Y/N’s body gives in to Harry, and she knows she’s close once again. Y/N throws her wet arms around his neck because she needs him close. She feels herself tip over the edge. Breathless and satisfied.

“Gorgeous,” he mutters against her soft neck. “My beauty was gorgeous.” Each word is followed by a kiss.

Y/N feels heavy but relaxed as he holds her close to her breasts against his soft polo.  “H,” she manages to breathe out.

“Alright, baby?”

“Magic,” she giggles, her chest heaving as she leans back into the water, trying to catch her breath.

Harry laughs as he carefully separates from Y/N to reach for a towel from his towel warmer. She notices the towel and perks up, only now realizing how cold the water has run.

“If an orgasm is all you needed to be, my good girl, I would have begged to give you one sooner,” he tells her teasingly. Y/N whimpers at his words, leaning into his touch as he helps her out of the tub, still a gentleman as he averts his gaze. “Let’s get you in some clothes and then to bed.”

“Kisses and cuddles?” She requests quietly.

Harry chuckles. “Course, baby. Anything you want.”

+

Y/N had never been so comfortable in a relationship.

She had always been a confident, independent person. Yet, when it comes to Harry, she has come to let herself be taken care of because she sees he finds joy in caring for her. Y/N had never had an equal partnership where her partner put her needs next to his. She understood he was running a billion-dollar company, and she was finishing her degree soon. They were at two different points in life, but Harry always treated her events and exam nights with so much importance it sometimes overwhelmed her.

Harry was happy with her, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Date nights were reserved for the weekends and coffee dates during the week, and Harry always made time to pick her up from campus, so she didn’t have to ask for a ride from a friend. He made himself a part of her life effortlessly.

For a long time, she worried about how she fits into his life, but after dinner with Harry’s friends one weekend, she learned how much of himself he had already given her. Harry held her hand during dinner and asked what she liked to order, going as far as to order her second food option in case she didn’t like hers. He kissed her cheek any chance, not wanting to overwhelm her and his friends with PDA but also reminding her that he was thinking of her. The little things made her realize she was falling in love with Harry.

As Y/N met Harry’s friends and heard embarrassing and loving stories about Harry, she knew it was time for Harry to meet her friends properly. Sapra tried to convince her to invite Matias and Isaac, but Y/N wanted to save meeting her brother for another time. Harry suggested brunch, and Y/N couldn’t argue with that logic. If Sapra or Dawn said anything too embarrassing, she’d just get them drunk on mimosas.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?” Harry asks as she keeps her eyes on the restaurant's door, waiting for her friends to walk in.

Honestly, she was nervous because they knew everything, from when Harry rejected her to when she danced with him. She knows why they are a little weary (Sapra more than Dawn), but they haven’t had a chance to see how Harry really is. Y/N had told them how happy Harry made her. That he dedicated time to her and made her feel important and loved. She knew her friends would accept her if she saw how happy she was, but she also wanted them to like Harry.

“Is it our age difference?”

Y/N frowns that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No, is that something you think about?”

Harry sighs, reaching down to grab her hand and bring it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. Her eyes stay on his face trying to figure out what he’s feeling. “It’s crossed my mind,” he shares honestly.

“It’s not a concern for me,” she promises him.

His green eyes focus back on her, and Y/N sees the glimmer of a smile. “I know, Beauty. It’s not something you’ve ever brought up, but I fear if one of your friends brings it up, then it’ll concern you, and I’ll most likely end up losing you.”

Y/N wishes they weren’t having this conversation now, but it’s her fault for being lost in her head when she should have been assuring him that her friends would love him. “Harry, lovie, I’m in this with you. In this relationship, it’s you and me. No one else. Thank you for being honest with me, but my friends do not influence how I feel about you.”

Harry fails at biting back a smile. He lowers his head, closing the gap between them in the booth. “How do you feel?”

Y/N knows she can be cheeky and tease Harry, but she wants to assure him that she sees a future with him and hopes he feels the same. “I’m crazy about you,” she whispers.

He doesn’t respond but connects his lips against Y/N’s, getting lost in each other, not noticing Y/N’s friends being directed by the hostess to their table. Harry pulls back breathless, allowing himself to get lost in Y/N’s eyes. “The feeling is very much mutual, beauty.”

“Hey lovebirds, can you not do whatever before I’ve eaten,” Sapra teases, pointing at how Y/N is fisting Harry’s button-up tightly. Y/N feels her face heat up and pulls away from Harry.

Dawn flashes them a smile, “it’s nice to officially meet you, Harry. This one’s always talking about you.” Dawn gestures to Y/N, who giggles bashfully against his shoulder.

Harry kisses her cheek, whispering how cute he is before turning his attention back to Dawn and Sapra. “Not as much as she talks about you both, I bet. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

As Y/N’s friends are telling Harry story after story, she realizes that she’s falling in love, and by the way, Harry is holding her hand tightly in his lap that he is too.

+

Harry has never been so happy to have someone make themselves at home in his house. His mother and sister had always told him it was too large for one person, but he told them it wouldn’t always be him. He didn’t know what he wanted in a partner, but after meeting Y/N, he realized he was waiting for her.

It was too soon to say he was in love, but he was basically there. Harry had no intention of letting her go, and by how Y/N enjoyed showering him with kisses every chance she could, he knew she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

Everything was perfect.

She found herself in his study when she needed a quiet place to study. Usually, it meant he gave up his chair and settled on watching her from the couch next to the window. She would have her laptop in front of her, and if he let her, she’d work for hours without a break. He took it upon himself to bring her a snack and drink every hour to ensure she was well nourished. Harry found pleasure in cooking and making snacks because it was one way she allowed him to take care of her.

This evening Y/N was working on her laptop while Harry read a report for the upcoming month. Y/N sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back into the chair. He lifted his head in concern to find her already looking at him, a frown on his face.

“Beauty, what’s wrong?”

Y/N throws her hands up, “you're giving me too much?”

“Sorry?

“I didn’t need a new bag.”

She’s talking about her backpack ripping, and Harry thought nothing of replacing it for her.

“Your old one ripped.”

“My shoes were perfectly fine,” she fires back.

“The laces were barely holding together,” he reminds her.  

“I didn’t need new underwear.”

Harry smirks, “now that was for my pleasure.”

Y/N huffs, “Honey, I’m serious. I don't need all these material items.”

Harry sighs and pats his lap for her to come to sit. She does so without a second thought. She gets comfortable straddling him as his hands rest on her hips.  

“I like providing for you,” Harry expressed.

“I can provide for myself, mister.”

He nods because he knows she can. “But it makes me happy.”

“Harry,” she deadpans.

“Gives me a love boner.”

Y/N scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Be serious.”

Harry’s hands cradle her face, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks affectionately. “Baby, you could run me dry, and it gets me going because it means I was able to take care of you.

She sighs. “God, you're so cute,” she mumbles.

Harry grins, knowing he’s won. “Will you be my good girl and let me spoil you?”

Y/N nods slowly. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him. “If you ever give me a diamond, I'm out,” she reminds him.

“Got it, no diamonds…. What about pearls?” He jokes. At least, she thinks he is.

“Lovie,” she exhales.

Harry has decided he’s had enough of the conversation and kisses her. Y/N always tastes so sweet. He gets lost in exploring her mouth against his that he doesn’t realize she has started rocking against him. Since Harry had given Y/N two orgasms in his bath, they’ve been more physical, but Harry isn’t in any rush, and neither is Y/N. They’re taking it slow, learning every part of their bodies before taking that final step in their relationship. He pulls back the dimples on display, he runs his index finger over Y/N’s swollen lips.

“Popcorn and Survivor, beauty?”

“Oh, Styles, you sure do know the way to a woman’s heart, don’t you,” she teases.

Harry pecks her lips. “Only yours, beauty. Only yours.”

+

Y/N couldn’t believe Harry would do this to her.

Harry sent over a large red box with a bow holding it closed. The carrier bid her goodnight, and she hurried to her kitchen to open the package. Removing the lid, she found a gorgeous emerald green dress. She picked it up, admiring the silk, and quickly pulled her phone out of her sweat pocket to call Harry. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi, beauty,” he greets cheerfully.

“Harry, tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” He feigns.

“You sent me a dress for tonight.”

“Ah,” he giggles. “That I did. Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Good. I'll be there at seven to pick you up.”

“You want to go together?” They knew they were both attending, but for some reason, she assumed they’d arrive separately.

“I didn’t get a matching tie for nothing.” He laughs. “See you soon, beauty.”

Y/N hurried to get ready, excited for what the night had in store for her and Harry.

Harry knocked on her door at seven on the dot. She rushed to the door, swinging it open and telling him to come in as she rushed back into her room. He laughed because he had never seen Y/N frazzled, and here she was, rushing, knowing she was running late. Harry put the blooming calla lilies in a vase he knew she kept under her sink.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Harry. My curler was being stupid, and then I couldn’t find my heels.” She huffs as she stands at her entrance, slipping on her heels.

Harry takes a minute to admire the dress on her. It’s an elegant satin spaghetti strap dress with a high slit up her left leg. Her hair is in an elegant updo, with a few strands framing her face. She’s gorgeous, and she’s all his to show off tonight.

“You sure you don’t want to stay home tonight?” He asks, reaching his hands out for her to take.

She shakes her head, knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Absolutely not. It’s a big night.”

And it was.

Y/N’s internship was hosting their gala of the year, where she played a prominent role in helping with the budget and the guest list. He would never keep her away from an event where she was an important guest.

Y/N grabs her clutch that holds her most essential items, such as her lipstick, ID, cash, and keys. She’s telling Harry she’s ready to go when she catches a yellow vase on her table filled with her favorite flowers.

“H,” she sighed. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He kisses her cheek. “Anything to see that pretty smile.”

As she focuses on Harry staring down at her, she realizes she didn’t kiss him hello. Y/N leans in close, pressing her glossed lips against his. Harry hums at the familiar feel. He wants to take it further but knows they need to get going.

“All set?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go then, my gorgeous date.”

Arriving at the venue, Harry offered his keys to the valet as Y/N was helped out the door. Harry met her by the first step and offered his arm. She happily accepted. Walking in, Y/N was awed at the displays of gold scattered around the room. The table decorations were pristine, the lights were perfect for photos, and the ballroom was full of people. As soon as they were inside, Y/N was whisked away by her director, Valentina. Y/N gave Harry an apologetic smile but promised to find him later. Harry had always been good at spending time alone, but for once, he wished Y/N could have paraded him around the room as they introduced each other to people they knew. He knew that time would come.

It’s a beautiful and busy evening; at one point, a waiter finds him a single drink on a tray and hands it over to him, saying that a woman in an emerald green dress sent it to him. It was an amaretto sour, his new favorite. Y/N smiled from across the room when she saw him raise it in her direction as thanks.

The event was winding down, the string quartet was playing their final songs, and Harry was ready to call it a night. After an entire evening away from him, Y/N managed to make her way across the room and stood before him.

Y/N perks up as she hears the opening notes to the song the quartet is playing, their song. Moon River. Harry doesn’t tell her he’s turned the song into her ringtone.

She holds her hand for him to take, and he takes it without a second thought until Harry realizes she’s leading him to the dance floor.

“We’re going to be the talk of the town,” he tells her looking at the lonely dance floor.

Y/N shrugs, “it doesn’t matter.”

As opposed to the first time they danced together, holding space between each other, they were much closer this time. Y/N wrapped her hands around his neck, and his hands found their place on the low of her back.

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that your opinion is the only one I care about,” Y/N promises him.

Harry’s dimples break through and she grins, leaning up to give him a sweet kiss. She settles back in his arms as their song plays, lost in their own world.

“You know,” Y/N lifted her head, resting on his shoulder. “You once told me you didn’t dance, and yet this is the second time I have gotten you to dance, hmmm?”

Harry laughs because she’s right. “I was waiting for the right partner,” he affirms.

“And is that me?”

“Beauty,” he says softly, his emerald eyes locked on hers. “It could only ever be you,” Harry promises.

Y/N smiles in delight. They might not have had the easiest journey to getting to this moment, but Y/N knew she wouldn’t change anything for the world.

Dancing with Y/N on an empty dance floor to a song he knew had now become theirs, he knew meeting Y/N would be the thing to ever happen to him in life, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them together.

thank you so much for reading! i love you endlessly, amores 💜

please come tell me what you loved or your favorite part on anything at all. always happy to receive a message. 

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

I Know it Won’t Work || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

Summary: You and Tom break up after three years of dating and you perform a song about the truth of the breakup for the first time live.

Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 23 and Tom is 30

Wc: 658

A/n: these r addicting to make lol. Also, changed up some lyrics for the sake of the storyline making sense. 2/4? Fics I’m posting today!

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

You let out a shaky breath, "I left you here, heard you keep the extra closet empty," You sing the first words of your unreleased song to the crowd. "In case this year, I come back and stay throughout my twenties, what if I won't? How am I supposed to put that gently?" You had just freshly turned 23 and broken up with Tom.

You honestly don't know how you ended up here, in-front of a crowd of hundreds in London. Performing in front of people was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment but you had to keep a strong front for your supporters, this show was highly anticipated.

"I've had the thought, tried to work it out through anxious pacin'" Your biggest coping mechanism was writing songs. You never knew how to really express your emotions in sentences to someone, so instead, you write them into songs. Your real feelings and emotions laced into words that in the end, formed a song.

"But it's a lot, all the shine of three happy years fadin'" The crowd watched in silence, partly because it was a new song and they did not know the lyrics to sing along, but also because they were mesmerised. Your voice held so much emotion.

Your fans weren't aware that the two of you have broken up, but a few had already pieced it up. "The whole facade, seemed to fall apart, it's complicated." Everyone viewed you and Tom as the power couple, deeply in love with one another with no flaw or doubt in the relationship

While half of it was true, the other half wasn't. The seven year age gap different had been brought up so many times throughout your relationship. You remember the first time the two of you got together, you were 20 and he was 27.

You both received heavy backlash from the internet but the two of you ignored them all. They weren't the ones in the relationship, they weren't the ones to make the call about whether or not you should be together.

"And part of me wants to walk away 'till you really listen, I hate to look at your face and know that we're feelin' different," As the three years went by, uou hoped you weren't the only one in the relationship that doubted a few things. You didn’t want to admit that other people's comments were getting to you. As the three years progressed with Tom, you felt as if you were just both in such different phases of life.

You were still so young in your early twenties and fresh in your career while it seemed that Tom was ready to settle down, marry, and start a family. He would always mention starting a family and you would listen, not really knowing what to say to him.

But recently, you came into terms with the truth that both you and Tom don't share the same feelings or goals at the moment. "Cause part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" You loved Tom, parts of you still do. He never did anything wrong, he was everything you could have ever wished for. You like to think of him as the right person, wrong time.

But nothing was going to change the fact that you two were just in different stages of life. Nothing will change the seven year age gap between the two of you. "I know we cut all the ties, but you're never really leavin'"

Tom hasn't left your mind. It would've been easier if he did. But he just couldn't. "And part of me wants you back, but, I know it won't work like that, huh?" Your voice slightly cracks, a single tear drop runs down your face. Eyes closed, you let it. The dewy stream your tear left—accentuated with the bright lights focused on you—did not go unnoticed.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix

SUMMARY : aka. part II of mattel. finally, in the privacy of your home, you find the willpower to make the afternoon all about dean (as you’d originally hoped) when he tries to distract you from your plans. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), 0.5 mL of angst, pure filth mostly, fluffy as well tho, edging, switches all around, body appreciation as subtext lmao, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected piv (I’m scared of germs, you should be too), rough sex, biting, scratching?, oral (m. receiving), begging, squirting, idk hot and sweaty and wet sex honestly cause why the heck not?! 

WORD COUNT : 5.0k

A/N :  the title is from a muse song. this fills the biting square for my @jacklesversebingo card. Inspired by Bullet for My Valentine’s Scream Aim Fire album. Also by the reel on instagram for “riding” tips 🤣

DEAN’S POV 

When you playfully made your way into the house, he allowed his previous insecurity to grip his heart so it clenched while his stomach sank unpleasantly. 

You seemed far too happy, excited even, for him to be ruining your mood. 

But all he could think of was this morning when he was rushing you to get dressed. When he got to the wardrobe, he froze as his mind instantly scanned through the shirts he knew you both had inside, either folded nearly in stacks or hanging on the sturdy metal bar inside. 

Truth was, part of him felt guilty and his stomach sank every time he saw some old shirts of his you’d stolen years back. He typically found it hot when you wore them, but sometimes the way they fit on you made him feel self conscious about his weight. Especially when he could tell when you wore his newer clothes because of how much bigger it fit on your body. 

You’ve never made any comments about his body or his weight or the amount of food he eats or the lack of activity he engages in now. But he knows. Sam teases him about it, he laughs wryly, but Sam doesn’t seem to notice that those comments make him uncomfortable. Sure, back then it didn’t matter what Sam said about the food he ate because he didn’t notice the change in his body. He was constantly hunting or going hungry for large periods of time when they were stuck far away from society and only relied on snacks to stave off their hunger…

He decided to slip on last night’s clothes, hoping to hide his body from himself, from you, from his brother. From anyone who knew him when he was fit and toned and hard… God… he should’ve listened when those chicks told him he had a “dad-bod”.

He had no idea why he couldn’t stop spiralling now. 

When he got to the entrance of the house, he shut the door behind him and locked it, taking a deep breath as his dick began to soften due to his sour mood. He found your ankle boots next to the entrance and quickly discarded his own shoes and placed them next to yours.

His mind went back to anything that would indicate that you had noticed or even hated his body. Even though he had nothing negative to think back to, he felt awful. Suddenly, he could feel every inch of extra skin and he squirmed uncomfortably. 

He saw your discarded dress in the hallway and he found that he couldn’t help smiling.

He could spend all his life wondering why or how you still found him attractive, but that would be a shameful amount of time wasted. You were so beautiful and you were right here ready for him, loving him in more ways and more intensely than he thought he deserved. 

So he decided to just appreciate that you liked, no, loved him at all and quickly washed his hands with soap in the bathroom before entering your shared bedroom where you were laying like a model on the bed. 

Your face was turned to the window, to the drawn curtains and the sunlight that glided over your smooth skin. Your arm was raised above your head, in the pillows, and your body was covered in the red lingerie set that had caught his attention at the sex shop. To see it on your body was driving him insane. 

He noticed the shaky expansion and deflation of your ribcage with each breath you took. Your knees were bent, feet flat on the bed, thighs pressed together tightly, and then you turned to face him. Your lashes fluttered and you smiled when you saw him standing there, dumbstruck and in awe.

You spoke his name like a siren and he moved to get closer to you, the tension your sensuality began filling the room aroused him. His heart was pounding excitedly in his chest, and while some of the blood flooded up to his face the way it always did, most of it ran down south. And your voice did nothing but intensify how horny and desperate he was starting to feel all over again.

He stood at the foot of the bed and smirked down at you and you parted your thighs just to watch him curiously from between your legs with your brow raised expectantly.

He lifted only one knee onto the bed and reached for your hip to drag you all the way down. Your laughter filled him with delight, but when he slid his hand down your side to get a good look at you with your hair haloed around your head on the sheets, your seductive gaze seized him and his heart nearly stopped from how fast it was beating. You bit your lip in anticipation and reached for his shirt, quietly urging him to remove it.

“Please,” you murmured. He pulled the t-shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Hoping to be ignored, he leaned over you, his warm breath fanned over your neck and he relished the quiet gasp you released before he even pressed his lips softly to your pulse.

Your hands instantly threaded through his hair and he let you guide him off your skin, where he could feel the heavy thud of your heartbeat. You whispered his name against his lips like a prayer and he closed the distance between the two of you like a merciful god responding to your silent plea with tenderness. 

You were quick to bite his lips when he refused to give you anything more than an innocent kiss. He smirked against your mouth, inhaling sharply at your enthusiasm. Your tongue pushed past the playfully-stubborn lock of his lips and the sound you made once you tasted him made his cock twitch inside his sweat pants.

You became more impatient, he could barely catch up with you. His mind was dazed from your kiss alone, but your hands made a mess in his hair, tugging with desperation, eliciting deep moans from him. Your hips rolled upwards, your hands released their tight grip on his hair so you could dig your fingernails into his bare shoulders, needing—more than anything—to find friction. He groaned into your mouth and moved away panting, his lips swollen and tingling from your greedy mouth.

He took your hands far gentler than you’d handled him and pinned them above your head, his hand easily locked around your wrists and you bit your lip. You leered up at him when he placed himself closer between your legs.

“Is there something you need, sweetheart?” He teased, placing his hand flat on your stomach, nearly covering the entirety of the surface.

“Dean,” you whined, laughing breathily, “don’t do this.” He frowned dramatically at your refusal—playfulness guiding his actions—and tested your resolve by pressing his thumb against your clit over the wet lace of your new underwear. Your instant gasp at the softest touch thrilled him.

“Already so wet for me,” he murmured, a furious heat rushing up his face.

“Yeah, you didn’t feel that in the car?” 

He leaned over you again, nipped at your breast above the cup of your lace bra in retaliation, and slowly began to pull your underwear down your legs. He felt your hands twist in his grasp when he brought his lips around your nipple over the scratchy lace, you squirmed beneath him, impatiently attempting to kick your underwear off with his help.

“Need you so bad,” you whispered without being prompted to say anything. He smiled against your chest and threw your underwear away from your body with a snap of his wrist. 

“Oh, baby, I know,” he whispered empathetically, his eyes deeply gazing into yours as he slid his hand up the front of your body to pull down the cups of your bra so your breasts spilled out. 

He knew you saw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted instantly. Your knees pressed into his sides, your back arched when he breathed against your hardened nipple, and you struggled against his grip on your hands. You never asked him to stop, you only begged for more, so he wrapped his lips around your nipple and played with the other until you were moaning wantonly and begging shamelessly for him to fuck you.

“Please, tell me… you’ll let me cum,” you gasped, watching him intently as he detached his puffy lips from your now-slick and sensitive nipples. 

“Of course,” he murmured and pushed a finger inside you. You gasped, his lips touched yours, and he began curling his finger inside you, relishing in the feeling of it slipping into you without resistance.

He could feel the spread of your legs, the impatient wiggle of your hips, the pulse of your core around his fingers whenever he brushed over your g-spot. His cock ached as you panted and murmured his name in a quiet plea, your breathlessness made his stomach clench and he was enthralled by the sight of you, flushed and needy—all for him. 

He released your wrists to palm himself over his sweatpants, groaning and grateful that there was nothing underneath stopping him from feeling some pleasure as he admired you. He just couldn’t help himself with your shameless responsiveness. Your hands flew to his wrist and he looked down to watch your frantic grip near where his glistening finger was emerging from your warmth. You were something else entirely today. He closed his eyes momentarily, revelling in the image of you that remained behind his lids as he rubbed at his cock, and added a second finger inside you to scissor you open carefully when his eyes fluttered open once more.

He regarded you as you panted, your lips parted and your eyes closed. He bit his lip, parted your folds and flicked your slippery clit with his thumb watching your body arch and your hips buck. 

"That's it, you’re such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky.

His eyes flickered up to your face, but you were already watching him with your brows drawn together in concentration and your lips parted to release every tender moan that he pulled out of you. His heart lurched at your flushed state and you bit your lip hard, struggling to catch your breath. Your wide eyes swallowed him whole and then they fluttered shut for a moment; he knew what was coming.

Your walls spasmed around his fingers and your body shook when your orgasm finally vibrated through you. “Dean… fuck-fuck-fuck… fuck,” you implored, somehow becoming more wet around his fingers. Your hands moved up to his forearm, your fingertips traced the way his muscles flexed as he brushed against your g-spot repetitively, and you shuddered as you kept his unmoving fingers inside you after the most intense part of your orgasm passed.

“Fuck… so needy today,” he said with hushed astonishment. He looked between your legs with a lewd curiosity to watch your pussy flutter around his fingers. He chewed on his lip and experimentally continued to slowly rub at your clit until it became too much for you. Your pussy clamped down tightly around him and you started to guide his wrist away from you so his fingers slipped out, too.

While you caught your breath, he played with your sticky release and sucked his two fingers clean of the drying slick. Your tired eyes landed on him and you still smiled, maybe he could call your huff a laugh with the way your shoulders shook. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, too, now?” He uttered quietly, mostly to tease you. Still, as he waited for you to answer, he pulled down his grey sweats and stepped out of them swiftly. He moved back between your legs before he could miss a single second of your blissful glow and waited with a patient smile as you ogled him as shamelessly as he was doing to you.

"Please, Dean," you moaned, arms thrown up with your hair to grab the sheets hard. He smirked at you and you lifted your hips invitingly, causing his cock to twitch against your thigh. He cussed impatiently as he grabbed your hip over the red garter belt and teased your swollen clit with his cock, mostly enjoying the way your slick felt along the length of him. “Please… fuck me already. I need it, Dean,” you whimpered impatiently, pressing your ankles against the back of his thighs so he could give you what you wanted.

He considered continuing the torture, but decided against it, pleased by the desperation contorting your beautiful features the longer he played with you. 

"Okay,” he hummed and slammed his cock into you, his fingers digging into your hips on both sides now. Your gasp made his head light, his cock throbbed inside you, and he pulled out slowly to feel every inch of you before shoving himself back in with a satisfied groan. Your pussy pulsed to adjust to him, but you were still slick inside from your orgasm, and every thrust felt deliciously smooth. 

He watched you grip the sheets in tighter fists to brace yourself against the ruthless snap of his hips. His eyes trailed down, noticing the faster rise and fall of your chest as your lascivious eyes drifted lower, slowly moving down his chest and his stomach, and finally down to where his cock was ramming inside of you. His fingers pressed deeper into your hips, moulding your flesh like clay, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay.

He brought one of his hands away from your hip, reaching over to your sensitive clit, and stroked around it lazily—hoping to bring you to the edge of your second orgasm. When your body spasmed and you whimpered a plea, he knew he could get you there again. 

“Please,” you gasped, pulling hard at the sheets.

“Anything for you," he promised breathily, continuing to fuck into you as he circled your clit faster. Each snap of his hips made you moan, and you squirmed restlessly—sensitive and overstimulated from his touch, but somehow needing more. 

He leaned over you to kiss you deeply and you gripped his arms instinctively after releasing the sheets as he caged you in with his arms and swallowed your sounds with his fierce kiss. Your nails dug into the taut flesh of his arms and his stomach flipped at your desperate attempts to restrain yourself. He smirked against your mouth, his thrusts became slow and shallow. You kissed him back firmly, breathing unevenly against his lips when he parted to breathe, meeting his thrusts as best as you could, uselessly trying to gain control.

He buried his face near the crook of your neck, breathing heavily and moaning softly in your ear. He groaned your name at the instantaneous clench of your walls at his closeness. You sighed his name, hands flexing on his arm before your nails bit back down on his flesh again, sending electric pleasure through his body. Dean bit down hard on your shoulder, muffling his heated groans against your soft flesh. You moaned in surprise and your pussy squeezed around his cock again. 

"Gonna come again, sweetheart?" He teased, licking at the bite mark and began rubbing relentlessly at your clit. He heard the hitch in your breath and moved his mouth further over your shoulder to bite down on you again. 

He loved your reaction to it.

“Wait!” You begged suddenly, comically—as if you’d just remembered you left the stove on. Your hand locked around his wrist to stop him from stimulating your clit. Your legs came loose from his waist. Sudden concern possessed him to pull out of your wet heat with a whimper that made him turn scarlet red, but a warning tingle flared up his spine at the loss of your body’s heat. 

He felt deceived by the grin on your face, but you began to climb up the bed with a devious glint in your eyes that made him grin as playfully as you were. 

"Sweetheart, please, let me fuck you," he laughed breathily, crawling up the bed after you. You chuckled and threw the pillows out of the way.

"Who’s needy now?" you taunted, grabbing his shoulders to make him take your spot on the bed before he could settle between your legs again. 

He lifted a brow, unaware of your intentions, and huffed indifferently—defiant, but he still obeyed and sat against the headboard. You circled your arms around his neck after climbing into his lap to give him a kiss while his hands played thoughtlessly with the lace of the garter belt on your hips. 

You weaved your fingers through his hair, sending shivers along his body, and tugged gently at the strands in your grasp to part from his mouth. He bit his lip, watching you through heavy eyes clouded with lust. Your playful smile made him smile reflexively, and then you disappeared to mouth kisses along his jawline and neck. His eyes fluttered shut and his head leaned back—gently hitting the wall—giving you more flushed skin to kiss. He moaned quietly as you licked and kissed at the vein carrying his pulse and your hips rolled forward instinctively at the sound.

Your mouth moved lower down his chest with hot and wet kisses that made his skin tingle with fervour to feel you closer. Your weight shifting off his lap made his eyes open slowly, and was greeted with the pretence of your innocent gaze before you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick. His heart skipped a beat, his cock jerked in your grasp, waiting in anticipation before you squeezed and slowly slid your hand up from the base to the tip. Your eyes flickered down just as a drop of precum leaked out of the tip.

Your satisfied hum flustered him, but he was used to it. Used to the way you licked your kiss-swollen lips at the mere sight of his leaking dick when you got your hands on him, readying him for your mouth or your pussy. To him it felt more like you wanted him at your mercy, throbbing red and hot before you finally gave him the mercy of pleasure and release.

“Shit,” he hissed, watching you pump his cock once, twice, and a third time, using every drop of his precum to languidly slide your hand along his length. “Please.” His hips rose from the bed and your response was a gentle laugh that made heat flare up his face. The pace of your hand remained infuriatingly slow and your tight grip drew thick droplets of precum so he almost felt as wet as you were. 

You had him just like you wanted, throbbing and red from your teasing hands, brushing the pads of your fingers to massage every sensitive area you could find on his dick. After uselessly begging for you to go faster, after pleading for release, you kissed your way down his soft stomach. He held his breath, watching intently as your mouth drew nearer to his cock. 

He squirmed when you breathed against him, your lips curved to a smirk, but his mouth was open, panting heavily and waiting hopelessly for the touch of your lips against his length. 

“Hot,” you whispered against his dick, and slowly, delicately licked the leaking tip with your hand wrapped loosely at the base. He sighed breathily and grunted shortly after you swirled your tongue around the tip to swipe away precum. Before he could form the words in his mind, your whole mouth engulfed his cock. 

You moved your head down and his hands found the soft strands of your hair, gripping tightly in surprise, then to guide the speed himself. Groans tumbled from his lips and he shoved away all his embarrassment when your humming vibrated through his cock and made him whimper. You swallowed, your throat tightened around him and he hissed a curse, pushing your head down and pulling your hair up faster. 

He dared to look down at you, through the haze of lust, the sight of you in tears with your reddened cheeks, and redder lips made his cock throb in your mouth. 

“Holy fuck,” he moaned, pulling you up by your hair to let his cock fall from your mouth. A string of saliva and precum connected your mouth to the tip as you sniffled and blinked away tears. “I need you. Get up here, sweetheart,” he begged hoarsely, unravelling his fingers from your hair to guide you up with his hand on your jaw. 

You licked your lips, released your firm grip on his dick, and allowed him to wipe your tears away as you moved back up his body with your knees on either side of his waist. 

He eagerly pulled you in for a kiss, his enthusiasm seeping through the passion of his kiss. He momentarily allowed himself to get lost, to gratefully lick the taste of himself from your mouth, and let his hands wander to pull the cups of your bra back down. Your tits spilled out of the lace and he thoroughly pinched and plucked at your nipples until he felt you take hold of his cock again and stroked him a few times. 

He drew back from the kiss breathlessly, watched you line his dick up with your pussy before carefully sinking down on him completely. His eyes fluttered shut, his hands fell to your waist, and a growly sound rumbled through his chest. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you moaned against his lips, trailing your hands from his wrists to forearms. Your forehead dropped to his gingerly as you raised yourself up so just the tip remained inside you, then slid back down gradually. His grip on your waist became stronger when you broke away from him to enjoy the sensation of having him inside you. “Ah, fuck…” you murmured, grinding down on him to push his cock as far as it could go into you. 

He choked on a moan, on the breath that was cut off by the feeling of you rolling your hips down on him leisurely. He squirmed beneath you, watching you get lost in the torturous pace you found pleasure in. Your head lolled back and your hair gracefully followed the movement shortly after. Susurrations of his name bled from between your lips. Your hands were secured tightly on his arms, pulling him closer to you. 

Pleasure rippled through him. 

He leaned forward to suck marks and press open-mouthed kisses over your breasts. Your hands abandoned his arms to bury your fingers in his hair instead, arching your back to push your chest closer to his mouth. You shuddered as his breath cooled your fiery skin and tugged at his hair, undulating your hips against his. 

He moved his mouth up your chest to bite at your neck. His teeth sank gently into your tender flesh, grazing along the thudding vein, and his tongue tasted the salty tang of your sweat. Your pussy squeezed around him in delight and he moaned against your throat, exasperatedly digging his fingers into your waist. 

"Please… move," he whispered gravelly, trying to take control of the way you moved by sliding his palms down to your hips and holding on tight.

“I am,” came your breathy response. The amusement in your voice made him whine. 

“N… not like that.” His voice was rough and you bit your lip at his frustration. 

Straight away, you finally lifted yourself up his cock, unhurriedly making him feel every bit of the heat and wetness that coated him. You dropped back down at the same frustratingly slow speed. His eyes fluttered shut, his brows pinched together, and he licked his lips before biting down on it. Again, you rose from his lap and steadily sat back down. Your breath tickled his jaw, “like that?” 

Your voice made his stomach flutter.

“Faster,” he begged, his throaty voice revealing his impatience with your drawn-out riding. You nipped at his jaw and only barely picked up the pace. His eyes fluttered open when you cupped his red cheeks, staring at his contorted face. “Please,” he mumbled, pressing his fingers into your hips. 

You laughed breathlessly and dipped down to kiss him, but he knew that was you denying him. Your teeth sank into his lip and he growled at you, throbbing and achingly close to finishing. If only you’d speed up, he could finally get there. 

You sucked at his lip before pushing your tongue into his hot mouth, inhaling each other’s breaths. His head felt light again and his stomach tightened, brimming with bliss, but you ignored his sobbing pleas by silencing them with your tongue, and continued to languidly ride his cock. 

But he’d had enough. 

He flattened his feet on the bed and snapped his hips upwards before you could even process or halt what he was doing. You cried out in surprise and uselessly attempted to hold onto his shoulders as he ruthlessly shoved his dick upwards into your pussy. He slammed you down with his bruising grip on your hips, moving you down on him faster, and obscene sounds began to burst from his lips. 

You inhaled sharply, clasping onto his broad shoulders to no avail until you defeatedly collapsed on him so he could have complete control of the rhythm. He still had enough awareness outside his pleasure to grin to himself as you moaned and gasped his name into his ear. You clamped down around his dick and began to meet his thrusts as he’d been doing for you. 

"You fuckin’ tease," he panted each word between heavy breaths, whenever your hips met his. Even nestled into you as deep as he could be, he yearned to be closer to you, so he tangled his fingers in your hair and crashed your lips down with his, sure—now—that you wouldn’t change the pace he’d set. Your teeth clashed with his, but he couldn’t care less as his cock pulsed inside you, overflowing with pleasure. "I'm so fuckin’ close, baby," he gasped gruffly into your mouth.  

“Please… come, Dean,” you breathed out your plea and he released a low moan, your words making something warm bloom in his chest. Heat trickled down his body and he couldn’t stop the bubbling of his orgasm, especially not with you kissing him so intensely. 

 "Shit- oh, fuck-" he gasped against your lips. You moaned pridefully when he stilled, his entire body tense beneath you, and he held his breath for a short second before he came inside you whispering expletives and your name. You trembled above him shortly after he’d spilled himself into you and he hooked his blunt nails into your hips so harshly he imagined he might break your skin and draw blood. 

He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and loosed his grip on your hips when you finally stopped riding him after you came for a second time, but still sat on his softening dick after pulling every last drop from his throbbing cock. 

READER’S POV

“I love you,” Dean breathed against your mouth, gently brushing his thumbs over the raw flesh of your hips. 

“Mmm, I love you, too,” you promised quietly, carefully lifting your tender pussy from his dick. Dean hissed softly as your pussy fluttered over him and then he melted into the bed, slowly allowing himself to relax after you’d edged him for… well, who actually knows how long?

"What’s with you today, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice still pleasantly husky. 

You tried not to think about it as you sat by his knees, but your cunt still longed for him. “What do you mean?”

He opened his eyes and gave you a look. He looked so fucked out and it made you unreasonably arrogant. Your eyes flickered from his dishevelled hair, his red cheeks, swollen lips, and scratched torso. You blushed and shrugged after stealing a glance at his soft cock coated in your cum and his own. 

You could act nonchalant all you wanted, but your pussy clenched around nothing just at the sight of him. You could feel his release dripping out of you and you rubbed your thighs together. He was still watching you, but you didn’t care what he was able to see. 

“Please, come back here,” he mumbled lazily. 

You moved to his side and rested your cheek on his shoulder. You had a few moments of peace before his hand ghosted above your thigh and sneaked between your legs. You sat up straight and lifted a brow at him.

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, you’re telling me you don’t want more?”

You grabbed his face after staring at him with narrowed eyes and kissed him roughly to shut him up, but he turned to face you and kissed you back just as fiercely. He pushed against your body so you laid on the bed once more and his hand found your slick cunt again.

This time, three fingers pushed into you and he used his other hand to rub furiously at your clit. You whimpered against his mouth, overstimulated, and he pulled away panting. “Come on, baby, give me another one. I know you want it.”

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your body trembling in protest. 

He was right, you could still feel the faint embers of your arousal and he was reigniting them faster than you were able to make your body process. Somehow your orgasm was building up for a third time, feeling less intense but completely fulfilling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured and before you knew what was happening, you squirted around his fingers and onto the sheets. Dean chuckled and drew out your orgasm as long as you could bear by still stroking on your clit after pulling his fingers out of you.

You could finally say you felt so much more relief, but you were half embarrassed by the gush of your orgasm. Dean was more than pleased by it. He licked his fingers clean of your release and then lowered his mouth down to your pussy with a moan to lick you thoroughly before kissing his way back up your body.

That mouth of his glistened and captivated your attention as he licked them. He pecked your lips and mumbled against your mouth, “I’m so glad I married you.”

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[lily-radiance]

Hazbin Hotel idea

- Fallen-Angel reader(Fem) x Alastor

The reader is doubting Heaven's actions and decides to take a trip to Hell to see for herself.

- Disagrees with the idea of senseless carnage but understands life is not so simple and split in two.

- Charlie, of course, takes her in, although she does not know the reader is an angel. The reader at first doubts the redemption idea but begins to see the vision.

- Reader is not a fan of Lucifer for many reasons, but mainly because he "betrayed" Heaven, and his relationship with Lilith/Charlie is strained.

- Imagine Hell's greatest Dad, but instead of y'know the whole dad part, Lucifer and Alastor are trying to make you pick a side.

- Alastor, chaotic as usual, tries to get the reader to accept being fallen and doesn't want her to go back. She tells him about her 'predicament' before anyone else, and you better believe he wants to fight the angels for you. He tells Charlie and the others about everything because he knows you won't do it yourself. You obviously get mad. Like big mad.

- In your spiral, he sees your wings at their total capacity, and your shaken demeanor has them changing from white to black at a high rate.

- Vox and Valentino get the terrible idea to hold you for ransom against Alastor and Angel Dust, and they do not go unpunished. Vox makes several derogatory comments about your "holier than thou image," Alastor won't let him get away with it. When it comes to you, he has no problem with your lineage, and honestly, he finds it charming that an angel of all creatures would fall for him.

One of your wings gets injured, and unsurprisingly, it happens to be one of the only angelic wings left. (Say the top and bottom wings on each side are black while the middle two are white?) You used to dye your wings to hide your angelic nature, but with an injury present, it is the least of your concerns. Alastor refuses to let you fly while in recovery, and he has to deal with your pouting. When you do heal, he's still weary, always accompanying you in case you need a helping hand.

"Al, I can fly on my own! Look, my wing is healed!"

"No."

"C'mon, just one lap around the hotel!"

"No."

- Husk thinks you're pretty chill company and likes to vent when you have nothing to do. Sure, he can't say much about Alastor without fearing for his soul, but when he can, the conversations are never dull. If you make him laugh, you'll never let him forget it.

- Angel and Nifty constantly tease you about your infatuation with a particular radio demon. Don't expect any worthwhile advice, even if it means no harm. Charlie really wants to see you and Al together, but she might need to be reminded about boundaries.

- Angel Dust once tried to hit on you to see what would happen and nearly got thrown into next week.

- When he says "Good Girl" to Charlie, you can't help but blush and be a little jealous. He isn't afraid to use the phrase to fluster you on purpose, although you would prefer he not.

- If you wear makeup/do your nails, he will be fascinated. He doesn't say anything because once, he spooked you and made you jump, ruining it. The next hour was spent with him memorizing every detail of your designs in case of another mistake. If he scares you again, it's his job to redo everything. Except for mascara. Never mascara.

- Chess and poker games when the staff has downtime. He will use his shadows to help you cheat, but only if he's not playing with you. Husk knows but says nothing.

- If you're listening to music with earbuds, he will occasionally slow the signal so he can bother you. At first, you were annoyed, but realized it was his odd way of communication. Plus, he still hates technology. (You will purposely play "Video Killed The Radio Star" to get him back.)

"Would you kindly stop playing that infernal song, my dear?"

"Not until you stop interrupting my music."

- The Egg Bois love you, that's no surprise. They always ask about you when being watched by Alastor. The radio demon has come to accept the many questions by now, but the first time, he wanted to spit out his coffee. You think fondly of the memory, occasionally bringing it up to lighten the mood.

"Are you and Mom fighting?"

- When you get into disagreements, expect a few dozen bouquets of white roses in your room. He's terrible at expressing emotions other than murderous intent, and Charlie does what she can to help. You're both stubborn, but it gets too exhausting to keep up the act, and eventually, someone has to cave. (Charlie isn't afraid to wear her horns when confronting him, and if he tries to avoid apologizing, Lucifer will make a daily phone call to annoy him.)

"Hey asshole, talk to your girlfriend, it's upsetting my daughter. Also, you suck."

- Regarding the Extermination day, you try your best to fight the Angelic invasion but struggle. Alastor is stuck between keeping you and the Hotel safe. When Adam nearly beats him, you don't know he's alive, but his reappearance at the new and improved hotel is a welcome sight. He's a little rattled that he almost died, but seeing you safe is enough to keep him going. He might be a tad crazier, but you love him to pieces anyway as you run up and hug him. Typically, he despises physical contact, but coming from you, he doesn't mind, even going so far as to hug you back.

"I assure you that I'm alright, mon cher."

"Are you sure, Al, because that was a difficult fight. Wait—your voice!"

The radio demon takes a moment to realize that without his staff, his voice is clearer than before.

"Oh, you must mean the radio feedback is gone. Yes, I suppose you've never heard my regular voice. I had forgotten what it sounded like. How is it?

"It sounds lovely. I couldn't imagine a better fit."

"I should return the compliment; that is what a proper gentleman does. Your wings look lovely as ever, (Y/N)."

You look over your shoulder to see the feathers no longer entirely black, but back to their ivory shade. A few straggled feathers remain, but you don't mind, overjoyed.

In the middle of your undeniably cute interaction, the rest of the staff is watching. It isn't until Husk interrupts with "get a room" that you two get the hint.

Bonus:

Ruffle this tall disaster's hair. He might complain, but he loves it.

Are you feeling extra crazy? Boop him. Just boop the nose. He will do the same to you.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Promise’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst!)

someone asked for a part two and I realized how good of an idea that was lmao. I need indirect ways to incorporate my past experiences into my fics anyway.

part one

prompt: you made a promise to distance yourself from Javi and Kate

TW: mentions of smoking, some detailed mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of nausea, disordered eating, breakdowns, smoking, angst :(

Do NOT proceed if the triggers mentioned above upset you greatly. You have been warned.

I made a promise

To distance myself

Once Tyler dropped you off to the train station, you smiled and waved until you couldn’t see his truck anymore. You wanted to hang onto any last string of familiarity for as long as you could.

Especially since your life would change completely - for better or worse.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your trembling body.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5 things you see - the train station, the crumbling yellow bricks, the jolly red-white-blue american flag, your luggage, and the people. Lots of people.

4 things you hear - the people, obviously, the cicadas crying, the heavy bell ringing inside, the honking of cars for you to get out of their way.

3 things you smell - the heat - somehow, the smell of smoke from cars, and the thick air.

2 things you feel - terrified. hurt.

1 thing you taste - bitterness.

Shaking your head, you take another deep breath. Eyes dead set on the mission in front of you, you marched into the train station, bought a ticket to Oklahoma City, and settled down inside.

But now was the hardest part; waiting. What made it harder was you didn’t want to think about anything that happened yesterday. So, putting your headphones on, you made a playlist with none of the songs that reminded you of Javi or any of the ones he recommended to you. Essentially, you just listened to 3 songs in total, over and over again, but the knowledge you knew what was coming next was comforting, something you couldn’t apply to your current situation.

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn't think about

How we didn't say goodbye

Just see you very soon

You woke up when the train jolted to a stop - you had fallen asleep, waking up to hear the opening notes of some song you were listening to earlier. Looking out the window, you reached Oklahoma City. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, you got your bags and headed out of the station, hailed a taxi to the airport. Booking a last minute flight back home to LA, you made your way to the gate. Setting your bag down, you sat in a char near the huge windows. Deciding it wasn’t close enough, you sat on the little raised platform attached to the window and leaned your head against it like you saw so many children do.

The boarding call was announced, and everyone sat up groggily. It all went by pretty quickly. Standing in line, getting your boarding pass stamped and your passport checked, finding you seat, putting your bag away and sitting down. Taxi and take off was a blur; luckily you got a window seat, and stared out at the pink clouds, tinted by the setting sun, a peach tone.

Peachy, just like your favourite pie.

You groaned, covering your eyes and rubbing them as your mind started to think about Oklahoma. About Javi, and the last time he saw you. And the last thing he said to you. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t blame him because he didn’t know it was goodbye.

And honestly, neither did you.

But you made yourself a promise - to distance yourself.

Those last words of his echoed in your mind.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)”

It hurts to be something

It's worse to be nothing with you

You half expected a text from Javi - it had been around 24 hours since you last saw him. Since you told him you had a ‘family emergency’ to take care of. Who wouldn’t expect a little ‘you doing okay?’ or ‘safe travels’ when someone saw you break down in the middle of a field, distressed as hell? Sure, you and Javi weren’t dating, sure you both drifted apart ever since Kate got closer with him instead, but were you two not even friends anymore?

Did you mean nothing to him?

This wasn’t the first time he ghosted you - after the EF5 tornado, he didn’t say a word to you. But it was understandable why - everyone was hurting, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. In Oklahoma, the only times he’d talk to you is when you started a conversation, otherwise you could sit silently and he’d happily talk with Kate, leaving you be. It was never him starting anything.

And Kate. Did she figure out you liked Javi? Is that why she didn’t text you? Did she feel guilty? Part of you wanted her to feel guilty, but the other part of you didn’t want to be pitied. Part of you wanted to go back, but this - this was best for you right now. Nobody could tell you otherwise.

Instead, you got a text from Tyler.

‘hey there cowgirl - how you getting along?’

You chuckled - ‘cowgirl’ was probably the worst way to describe yourself. Instead, you typed down a response, your heart a little less heavy.

‘hey, Tyler. thanks for asking. means a lot’

He was typing, the three dots appearing on screen

‘of course. lemme know if you need anything at all okay? stay safe out there’

You sent him an affirmative text, thankful to actually have a friend who cared enough to check in on you, helping you out without questioning anything, having only known you for a week.

So I didn't call you

For sixteen long days

You found comfort in some form of familiarity in your life; back home in LA, everything looked duller, more still. Like the whole world knew about your heartbreak and was mourning, or mocking you. You tried to plunge into work, distracting yourself but sometimes, you’d just stare at your work, screen or paper, and just zone out. Your was brain still trying to process everything, and you were losing a lot over it - sleep, peace, overall joy, your will to wake up, and more.

It felt like after the EF5 tornado but worse because you knew somewhere in Oklahoma, Kate was with Javi, both of them happier than ever. It felt worse because you could never have him anymore. He was gone. And someone got to see him every day, sometimes wake up next to him, sometimes stay up all night with him. You felt like you were gonna be sick.

For a fortnight, all you could eat was cheese, bread, and grapes. It was the only thing you could keep down.

It was so hard not to text Javi. After you had just left, it’s like you were isolated for 5 years, given a taste of him, then forcing yourself to stay away. It was something you chose to do, not something you were forced to live with.

But you won’t call him. No matter how long the days felt they were dragging by.

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

Walking by a drugstore to entertain yourself, you entered the establishment with an electronic ding notifying your presence. Strolling through the ailes, you picked up Sourhead Extremes (so in case you wanted to call Javi, you’d have to go through a gustatory agony first) and some nail polish, just to look pretty. Walking to the cashier, you mindlessly threw in a pack of cigarettes onto the counter, before putting them back in a jerky motion.

“What the hell…” you murmured to yourself, ashamed of what you were about to do. Buy cigarettes - to smoke.

Walking out of the store briskly, you speed-walked home; chiding yourself for almost ‘rewarding’ your no contact mission by smoking, you realized how truly pathetic you were.

“God, what is wrong with me…” you muttered, keeping your head down, watching the wet streets reflect the light of the sun and your dark sorrow.

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose,

Eventually you did buy the cigarettes. You went home, lounging in your bed, a pretty china plate acting like an ashtray for you. Legs up in the air, swinging occasionally, eyes half lidded from the light high, you felt the chalky smoke fill your lungs, watching it come out in little clouds of grey air.

You felt in control for the first time since leaving Oklahoma - the cigarette sitting pretty between your red tinted fingers and lips. You smiled softly, satisfied by finally scoring a small win. You didn’t tell Tyler that you smoked. He’d say it’s a horrible habit you should give up.

Obviously it was more of a lose - giving into an impulse, and now you were at risk of falling deeper into addiction. You weren’t in control, you never really were.

But why would you make yourself feel worse when you were on the literal brink of crumbling?

Although, you didn’t get addicted. After the high wore off, you felt disgusted, throwing out the pack of almost full cigarettes. You wouldn’t tell Tyler, of course.

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing with you

Two weeks went by, and though you pretended everything was okay, it really wasn’t. You didn’t know if you missed Javi or not, but you really didn’t want to.

You don’t know if you want to see the face you loved so much, the face that lights up when he sees Kate, the face that Kate holds, kisses, caresses.. the face that she admires alongside you.

You wanted to get over him, you really did, but you cared so much about him. You didn’t want to stop caring about him, when loving him felt so… lovely.

But it hurt so much.

You barely got any sleep this past fortnight. Having a reverie about the man who daydreamed about another woman. The things you wished he did to you, he did to Kate. He was hers. So assured, so confident. No doubt in that.

For a fortnight, there you were, stripped of any text backs from him.

You were starting to think you just wanted his attention, which you dont know if you wanted anymore, knowing his attention belonged to Kate. Why would you care so much about him texting you?

But then again, weren’t you two friends?

I’ve done the math

There’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

Right now, you, broken, needed comfort. May it be fake hope again. Nobody was there to stop you anyway, so in your free time, you started to think of the ways Kate and Javi would have problems with each other.

‘She’s too arrogant sometimes, and he’s really down to earth’

‘She can’t communicate her feelings!’

‘Kate’s one to settle, Javi isn’t’

Of course, you knew it was wrong. Of course it was a bitchy thing to think. But who were you to care right now?

You were hurt, and you needed to feel better to even try and start to get a grip on reality. you didn’t want to rip of the band aid yet.

Not yet.

Even worse, your mind started thinking of ways you and Javi could get together; Kate could leave him in the dark again, she could get into a fight with him…

But nothing made sense - she wouldn’t leave when she looked at him that way… and any fights would be cleared quickly with Javi’s forgiving nature.

He would do anything for her.

All in all, you realized how shitty you were being, and texted Tyler, saying you couldn’t hide from Javi - couldn’t hide from the pain that haunted you. The bright lights of LA looked dull. The sun felt like a false light.

Your world was falling apart, how could the sun be shining when your world was falling apart?

‘Just walk around. Wear something that makes you feel good. Grab some good lunch downtown. Spoil yourself. Act like a damn tourist, I don’t care. Just do anything that reminds you that there’s more to life than Javi’ he wrote.

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy who

Looked just like you standing out on Melrose Avenue…

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing, with you.

Three days later, you sat on the roof of a building. The sun was setting, you looked at the streets below. People were walking - their dogs, their toddlers, and whatnot.

You were so disappointed with yourself. Closing your eyes, you thought back to everything that happened yesterday.

Following Tyler’s advice, you woke up ready to face the day.

Waking up bright and early, you went for a run, saw some pretty things on the way. You found it insane how easy it was to overlook the small things in life.

Coming home, you made breakfast; oatmeal with bananas, almond butter and chocolate chips. You savoured every bite with a smile.

You hopped into the shower, using your favourite body wash. Putting on an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, slipping on your shoes, you left the house, ready to explore the city…

All was going well until sunset.

—

You were walking along the streets of LA, acting like you’d never seen anything like it before. A coffee in hand, you walked confidently down the path, turning a corner to browse a bookstore on Melrose Avenue, when someone caught your eye.

A boy, waiting for the light signal to turn green, who looked exactly like Javi.

You froze.

Suddenly, you didn’t want coffee any more. You didn’t want anything right now but to go home.

—

You rushed home, trying so hard to control your breathing, then stumbling desperately to your room. As soon as your face crashed against the pillows, the soft, gentle fabric a perfect medium to absorb the tears now flowing down your face. You sobbed, curled into a still-bedazzled ball on your bed, hugging yourself, contracting into a fibonacci.

Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. Through the wet and blurry lens of your tears, you scrolled into the alphabet until you reached the ‘J’ section. The first name was Javi.

Pressing on his name, then the ‘call’ button, you held it to your ear, taking shuddering breaths as you tried calming yourself down. The your phone cooed like a pigeon, signalling his phone, somewhere in Oklahoma, was ringing.

You were clean. Clean for a little over 2 weeks. Clean from his voice ringing in your ears, new words exchanged and whatnot.

But as you held your phone in your hand, crying, watching it reach Javi’s phone, waiting for him to answer, it all felt like a relapse.

Like the feeling of the cool blade on your skin, slicing through, leaving an angry red river in its wake.

The sick, high feeling you get from it - the ecstasy, watching you destroy yourself, finding beauty in the rubble.

Some part of you, the logical part of you was screaming to press the red button. To leave Javi alone. It wasn’t fair for you to reach out first, right? Why would you make a fool out of yourself by calling him? You’re not that desperate for him, are you?

But the hurt, emotional, desperate part of you didn’t, daring him to answer. Just to remind him of your existence. Just this once.

Still fighting the internal battle, you delved deeper into why he didn’t call you yet.

Did Kate tell him everything? Did she finally find out? Did she realize at all about how hurt you were?

The anger only just started to hit you, claiming your brain as a new population to be corrupted, a new host for the parasite, a new fruit to rot.

You were mad. You didn’t know at who. But you decided you were mad at Kate. For dating him. You knew it was wrong to be mad, because you had no claim over Javi, but you were too deep into your anger to actually think of a better way to cope. Suddenly, you were so mad at Kate. So, so mad. Part of you wanted to tear your house down, scream like a mad woman, but you didn’t. Your dwindling self control kept you in check.

Then came the sadness. You were so mad at Kate, but she was so happy right now. She didn’t care or know how your felt right now. how hurt you felt right now. She had Javi. Her Javi. And they were both happy - oh so happy, oh so blissfully unaware of how you felt right now.

They were happy - they were perfectly fine without you. Because they didn’t need you as a friend, not like they did in college - maybe they didn’t back then either, because they had each other. That’s all they needed. Each other was all they needed.

You were so deep into the crevices of your mind, drowning in both pain and relief, you almost didn’t hear your name drenched in Javi’s voice coming from the speaker.

‘(Y/N)?’

—

follow + stay tuned for part three!!