#me and a couple friends had a very important conversation 2 nights ago which was GOOD but. the bad thing about letting everything bottle up

[moonchild-in-blue]

Oh.

[miarosso]

Devilishly Angelic

EddieMunsonxHarringtonFemale

Summary: You’re Steve’s little sister and have developed a massive crush on Eddie, one of Steve’s friends. You have decided that tonight at Steve’s annual Hallow’een party you will make your move on Eddie but Steve has other ideas. 

I'm obsessing with the idea of Eddie at Halloween parties at the moment and this spiralled from an idea that I didn't actually end up including however I do plan to write a part 2 to this which will possibly contain my first attempt at smut :|

Part 2 below

Wordcount: 4.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Overbearing brother Steve, mention of genitalia, use of Y/N, slight angst (if I have forgotten anything then please let me know)

You looked in the mirror assessing your outfit for what felt like the millionth time, it may have seemed excessive but it was incredibly important to you that you looked good, especially tonight. You wanted to make sure you were irresistible to a certain metal head who you were harbouring a secret crush on, well secret to him anyway. 

You’d been pining after Eddie for what felt like years now, whilst in reality it had been a couple of months. You’d never really given him a second glance before, you’d seen him around school obviously but didn’t have particularly strong feelings about him either way. You didn’t subscribe to the town's idea of him being a satanic cult leader but you also didn’t really think much past that. 

It just so happened that a couple of months ago he was suddenly thrust into your life as he became friends with your older brother Steve. Steve, Nancy, Robin and the rest of his friends had fought for Eddie’s innocence and since then he’d been a fully fledged part of that group, which due to your relationship with Steve you also found yourself a part of. Eddie had finally graduated and most of the town had started to come to terms with the fact he was innocent, much due to the insistence of Chief Hopper! Which meant he was able to go back to a relatively simple existence back in Hawkins. 

As Eddie and Steve became good friends it meant you saw a lot more of him, which you were definitely not unhappy about. If you were honest you’d always been intrigued by him and now that you had been able to have actual conversations with him you had realised what an incredibly caring and intelligent man he was and had fallen for his nerdy charm. Unfortunately Steve had noticed your tendency to make a beeline for Eddie whenever he was around and did his best to cockblock you at every opportunity. You had graduated and were taking a year's break before college so he had no right to determine who you could and couldn’t be with, however much he tried. He’d never let you spend too much time alone in conversation with Eddie before inserting himself in where he most definitely was not wanted. You couldn’t understand why he was blocking your chances at happiness just because he was striking out at every opportunity didn’t mean you’d have to. You weren’t exactly sure how Eddie felt about you but you were desperate to find out and would do tonight as Steve threw his annual Hallowe’en party at your parents house. 

You looked over yourself for the last time, taking in the tiny, white babydoll dress you were wearing. The shape and colour looked innocent enough however the fact the hem ended just below the curve of your cheeks didn’t leave much to the imagination. The translucent flowing bell sleeves added an ethereal effect as did the feather wings on your back and the shiny, gold halo that adorned your head above your freshly waved locks. You very much looked the part of an Angel, even if you did say so yourself. Well, a sexy Angel you thought, considering you also had on thigh high white lace trimmed holdups and white stilettos. It was Hallowe’en so if you wanted to dress provocatively it was the one night of the year you were allowed to and you definitely hoped you provoked someone tonight. 

Right, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, you thought, as you finally turned away from the mirror and made your way out of your room to the party in full flow downstairs. You made your way down the spiralling staircase and down to the hallway which was full of people. You tried your best not to notice all the stares you were getting, which did nothing to help the menagerie of butterflies that were occupying your stomach and you continued your ascent down. You noticed Steve at the front door letting some more guests in as you were nearing the bottom step and as he turned around whilst closing the door he locked eyes with you. His eyes burned with what looked like rage as he stomped his way through the crowd and up to you. 

‘What the fuck do you think you’re wearing, Y/N?’ He sneered in your face as he grabbed your arm and tried to usher you back up the stairs. 

‘Clothes Stephen, I’m wearing clothes.’ You smarted back whilst tugging your arm away and folding them in front of your chest. Stephen wasn’t even his proper name but you called him that when you really wanted to piss him off. Steve scoffed, ‘You look like a slut, go and put some more clothes on, now!’ 

‘No!’ You challenged, ‘I look nice and I’m not going to change just because my stupid, older brother still thinks of me as a little girl and not a fully grown woman. I’m going to get a drink and you’re going to leave me alone! Understand?’ And with that you turned heel and made your way towards the kitchen leaving your brother dumbfounded and frozen to the spot! 

Still reeling from your altercation with Steve you weren’t really watching where you were going and therefore did not see the inebriated teen sway directly into your path until it was too late and you collided. You saw the drink shoot up in the air just a second too late to react properly and all too soon gravity kicked in and the contents of the cup was splashing down your body sending a shiver down your spine. Fuck, you thought looking down at the large wet stain down your dress and part of your right leg! You could feel a slight sloshing between your breasts as you smoothed your hand down yourself trying to get as much of the liquid off the dress as you could. The only saving grace was the idiot who emptied the contents of their cup over you had chosen vodka and so although you were wet and smelly, at least your dress wouldn’t have an obvious stain once it was dried. To be honest after Steve’s little performance at the stairs even if it was a glaring red stain you wouldn’t have changed and let him think you were following his archaic orders like some little girl. 

Now you really did need a drink and so stormed over to the punch bowl situated on the kitchen counter. You picked up a solo cup and filled it to the brim with the dubious liquid in the punch bowl, not even bothering to do a sniff test before you put it to your lips and downed the contents of it. You were in the process of going back for another when you felt a hand remove your arm from the bowl ensuring the cup came out empty. Thinking your stupid brother was meddling again you spun around with so much venom and a scowl on your face that could kill only to be met with the adorable big brown doe eyes of Eddie. 

‘Woah, princess, slow down! What’s the rush?’ 

Your face changed in an instant and the scowl was quickly replaced by a blush! 

‘There’s no rush, I just really needed a drink after getting one thrown on me’ you stated as you pointed out the stain on your dress. You ensured you directed Eddie’s attention to your chest as you started and ended your point there. Eddie, being the gentleman that he was, ensured his eyes followed your instruction diligently and possibly hovered a second too long on your chest before he slightly shook his head to knock himself out of an apparent daze he was in. 

‘I know, I saw and brought you this’ he says as he holds a towel up to you, which you gladly take.

‘Thank you kind sir,’ you stated provocatively as you let your hand caress his as you took the towel from him and started to pat dry the stain. You then took the towel and put it down the front of your dress attempting to mop up the spillage in your bra, making sure to pull the front of your dress down slightly to ensure Eddie had a great view. 

You chanced a small glance up at him and had to hold back a knowing smirk as once again Eddie was open-mouthed as he watched your hand gently wipe at the now sticky wetness between your breasts. 

‘I stink of vodka and my dress is ruined,’ you state matter-of-factly as you put the towel down on the counter. 

Eddie leans over closer to you resting his hand on the counter and sniffs, ‘You definitely do smell like a liquor store but you look amazing, Y/N.’ He finishes as his eyes slowly glance up and down your silhouette taking you all in. 

‘You think so?’ you ask as innocently as you can muster as you do a little spin for him ensuring he can take all of you in. 

‘Yeah, you look … angelic.’ he settles on that obvious word after pausing a little too long to find an appropriate word from all the descriptions that were spinning in his mind.

‘And not like a slut?’ you ask with a slight pout.

Eddie chokes on the sip of his drink he was taking as you asked the question and once  he had regained his composure appears agitated, ‘Who told you you look like a slut, Y/N? Do I have to go beat somebody up?’

‘Yes please,’ you state with glee pressing your body into the gap between his body and his arm resting on the counter, ‘it was stupid Steve!’ 

Eddie flings his head back and laughs whole heartedly, ‘Whilst I don’t agree with what Steve said, I can’t exactly go beating up your brother and our gracious host now can I?’ he says as he moves his hand off the counter to rest on your waist.

‘Shame’ you shrug as you turn around to get yourself another drink ensuring your body stays in contact with Eddie’s side the whole time.

‘What have you come as, by the way?’ you ask as you take a sip of your drink and trace your pointer finger across his chest. ‘I mean, you look beautiful as always, but don’t appear to have made much effort in the costume department?’

He brings the hand that is not resting on your waist up to his heart in faux shock, ‘You wound me, sweet angel! How can you not see that I am in fact the lead singer of Corroded Coffin?’

You giggle and push yourself further into him and angle your body to seductively whisper into his ear, ‘Baby, that's not a costume. Anyway, I’ve heard the lead singer of Corroded Coffin performs topless, so why have you got this on?’ You ask as you pull at the hem of his shirt with your finger, lifting it to give yourself a view of his happy trail. 

He pulls you in to him by the hand that is resting on your waist and moves his head so his lips are as close to your ear as he can get without touching and whispers, ‘Unfortunately it’s only private shows where the top comes off, Princess.’ 

You try to hide the shiver that was making its way down your spine to settle in your pussy and turn to put your mouth just as close to Eddie’s ear and ask, ‘and how do I go about booking one of those private shows then?’

You manoeuvre yourself so you’re able to see the glint in Eddie’s eyes and notice the sides of his lips gradually making their way into a shit eating grin. You can’t help staring at his lips as you notice them move to form the answer to your question but before you can hear it you’re interrupted once again by your stupid brother. 

‘Eddie.’ he shouts, walking over to where you two were standing. 

Upon hearing Steve Eddie’s smirk vanishes and his hand drops from your waist as he gingerly tries to create space between the two of you.

Upon noticing this you slide your hand nearest Eddie into one of the belt loops in his jeans and slowly pull him closer to you. 

‘I thought I told you to leave me alone?’ you spit at your brother.

‘I am, actually, it’s Eddie I want.’ he retorts.

‘Yeah, well myself and Eddie were having a conversation before you rudely interrupted so why don’t you go bother someone else?’

He turns to Eddie, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, ‘A conversation, really? Is that all?.’

Eddie nods whilst looking down and bringing his hand to stroke his neck at the nape. 

‘Yeah, well now it’s over because I need Eddie to come and… erm… do a keg stand.’ Steve states.

Now it was your turn to scoff, ‘Really, Steve? You know you’re not still King Steve and in high school right? A keg stand, really?’ You say incredulously, ‘Does Eddie look like some drugged up jock to you? What makes you think he wants to do a keg stand?’

‘Yeah, well he’s my friend and I just need him to come with me’ Steve states pulling Eddie away from you by his arm. 

‘Really fucking matiure Steve!’ you shout after him. 

Eddie whilst being pulled away from you turns around and mouths I’m sorry and disappears into the crowd. 

Fuck sake, fucking Steve you thought to yourself as you went and poured yourself another drink. What the fuck is his problem? You downed the drink you just poured and thought over your next move as you poured yourself another one. 

‘Thirsty?’ you hear from behind you and turn around to see Nancy dressed as a witch, fake nose and pointy hat and all.

‘What is it with Steve and all his friends being up my ass tonight about my drinking?’ you bite back, much to Nancy’s dismay. 

Seeing the shock in her face you instantly feel bad about biting her head off, ‘Sorry Nancy, it’s just Steve’s being a total douche to me tonight and I need to drink to try and cope with him and his overbearing nature.’

‘He just cares about you Y/N.’ she tries to calm you. 

‘Do people who care about you call you a slut, Nancy?

‘What?’ she exclaims in a state of shock.

‘Yeah, everyone thinks he’s this wonderful caring babysitter now but he’s always an officious prick to me, even now. Still treats me like we’re kids and I’m not allowed to do anything without his say so. It’s really grating on me!’

‘Well, if it’s any consolation I think you look amazing and only wish I had the confidence to pull that outfit off.’ she smiles at you warmly. 

‘Thanks, Nance.’ you reply slightly blushing as an idea pops into your head. ‘Do you think you could do me a favour and have a word with him for me? You know, try and make him see that I’m not just his little sister anymore? He’ll listen to you.’

‘I can try,’ she responded solemnly.

Wonderful you thought to yourself, Nancy can distract Steve while you find Eddie again and continue your conversation from earlier. ‘I heard something about a keg stand, I think he’s in the dining room.’ You disclose as you follow her in that direction. 

Upon entering the dining room you see the keg but your brother and Eddie are nowhere to be seen. The rage inside you builds at the audacity of your so-called brother to lie to you, yet again. Where the fuck has he taken Eddie you thought to yourself. 

‘Maybe he’s dancing in the living room?’ Nancy suggests.

Although your first thought is of Eddie and him never in a million years dancing in the living room especially to the pop music that was playing after a second you realise she’s talking about Steve as you answer, ‘Yeah, maybe.’ 

And once again you follow Nancy around your house in search of your stupid brother. 

Upon entering the living room your eyes immediately find Eddie, looking as delectable as ever however your mood changes in an instance as you notice your idiot brother is next to him. You watched as he was introducing him to some random girl dressed as a cat. Or you presume it to be a cat with the leotard and little ears she was wearing on her head. She was wearing even less than you and your brother had the shamelessness to introduce her to Eddie. What the fuck did he think he was doing?

You definitely did not want Steve to now be taken away from the situation and leave Eddie and that little harlot talking alone, so you had to get Nancy quickly before she spotted Steve. You called out to Nancy but it was too late as she was just approaching him. Fuck you thought to yourself, what the fuck did I do to have the shitty luck I’m having tonight?

Nancy pulled Steve away and out the living room, giving you a quick nod of the head as she did so. You plastered on your best fake smile and watched them leave the living room and go out the back door to the patio. 

Your eyes immediately drifted back to Eddie and to your surprise he was watching you. Your attention drifted from his eyes to the girl he had just been introduced to who was now touching his chest, while fluttering her lashes up at him. You had to fight the urge to go over there and pull the stupid little ears of her head but you reminded yourself that you had no right to do so. Eddie was free to talk to whoever he wanted, he wasn’t yours and your stupid brother was to blame for this sad situation. You looked back at Eddie and he had glanced back down at the girl nodding his head but within seconds his gaze found you again. 

Think, think, think, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t just go and drag Eddie away from that girl, even though it's all you wanted to do, you had to find a way to make Eddie walk away from her. You scanned the room as your thoughts were racing and you noticed people dancing happily in the crowd. You supposed it wouldn’t hurt if you were to go and join them and give Eddie a taste of what he was missing. 

Walking into the middle of the makeshift dance floor in your living room, you take a cursory glance behind you to make sure Eddie’s eyes were still on you and they were. You start to sway your hips to the beat as sensually as you can, hands in the air and head back like you’re having the time of your life. 

You decide to turn around to make sure Eddie’s getting the full show. Maintaining eye contact you move your hands seductively over your legs, caressing the lace of your hold ups and moving your finger tips slowly up the naked expanse of your thighs until they reach the hem of your dress. You bite your bottom lip as you watch Eddie visibly stiffen, the look in his eyes so consuming it has you pressing your thighs together in hopes of quelling the growing inferno in your pussy. You move your hands slowly up your body caressing your own skin and wishing your hands were Eddie’s. Just as your hands get to your breasts you tenderly cup them and with one last glance at Eddie you turn around continuing to dance. You’d really got yourself worked up when you felt a pair of hands caress your thighs from behind and you closed your eyes in bliss and ground your ass into the person behind you, thankful that Eddie had finally taken the hint. 

Only when you looked down you didn’t see the ring clad hands you expected to see and your whole body convulsed in horror. You grabbed the hands from your thighs and turned around to see some idiot jock slobbering all over you.

“Get the fuck off me.’ you shout and move away. Only for the offensive, drunken idiot to not take the hint and grab your arm pulling you back into him. ‘You weren't saying that a second away when you were grinding that pretty ass into my dick, were you?’ he slurred at you. 

‘Get. Off. Me.’ you scream again as you try in vain to pull yourself from his grip. 

‘Are you fucking deaf? She said get off her.’ Eddie shouts storming towards the guys pushing him to the side as he relinquishes his grip on you. 

You look from Eddie’s shocked face to everyone around you who had stopped dancing to the music and were now all staring at you. 

You were locked to the spot with fear and embarrassment unsure of what had just happened. After composing yourself for a few seconds you turned around and walked out of the living room needing some fresh air as soon as possible. 

Could this fucking night get any worse you thought to yourself as you made your way through the dining room and out through the side door of your house knowing that the front and back gardens would be full of people and the last thing you needed at this moment in time was to be surrounded by people. You knew that non-one would be out here and no-one would know how to get out here from the house so you sat down on the small retaining wall at the side of the garage and put your head in your hands as you concentrated on breathing properly. You felt humiliated and annoyed that your actions had embarrassed you so much. If you weren’t wearing a slutty dress and dancing like a stripper then you wouldn’t have been in this position and the fact you had done it for Eddie who probably thinks you’re an idiot now just added to your misery. 

You heard the side door open and close but didn’t have the strength to look up and see who it was. 

‘Y/N, are you ok?’ Eddie asked.

It took a while for you to regain your composure as you answered without raising your head, ‘I’m fine Eddie, please just go back to the party.’

‘Are you hurt? Did that guy hurt you?’ he asked with a genuine sincerity in his voice.

‘No, everything but my dignity is intact Eddie.’ you replied, it coming out a lot more sarcastically than you had wanted. 

There was a long pause and you were fighting the urge to look up to see whether he had in fact gone back to the party when you felt a leather jacket be placed on your shoulders. Momentarily dumbfounded as your senses were overwhelmed with the essence of Eddie. 

‘I personally think you handled yourself with a lot of dignity if I’m being honest with you Princess. I was expecting you to kick him in the balls.’ Eddie exclaimed. 

Although you tried your hardest not to, you let out a small chuckle that gave Eddie the confidence to press further.

‘There she is, now do you want to look at me please Sweetheart?’ Eddie asked as he knelt down in front of you. 

You shook your head that was still in your hands in response. ‘Can’t. Too embarrassed.’

‘What have you got to be embarrassed about? Especially in front of the Freak of Hawkins?’ 

‘You’re not a freak, Eddie and it annoys me when you call yourself that.’ you chastise still with your head in your hands.

‘Well it annoys me that I can’t see your pretty face now as I’m talking to you, Princess. Please can you look at me?’ The candour of his question tugging at your heartstrings and you cautiously stand up and raise your head eyes still not meeting Eddie’s though. 

Eddie puts his left hand on your arm gently stroking up and down and his right hand comes under your chin, finger curled  under it and thumb on it as he gently lifts your head up so your eyes meet. 

Eddie’s eyes were warm pools of chocolate that you just wanted to drown in and you saw nothing but care in them, which only made you feel worse. 

‘I’m fine Eddie, honestly. Just feel like an idiot but I’ll get over it.’ you say dejectedly.

Eddie pulled you into a hug, ‘You’re definitely not an idiot, Y/N.’ 

You scoffed. ‘Yes, I am Eddie. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better but I am a massive idiot for…’ you trail off before you say too much, especially to Eddie. 

‘For?’ he questions. 

You turn away from Eddie and out of his embrace, ‘for wearing this stupid dress, for thinking I had a chance and for dancing like a… like that.’ You confirm as you feel your face flush into an all out blush. 

Eddie moves up to stand behind you placing his hands tenderly on your shoulders. 

‘If it’s worth anything, I don’t think your dress is stupid, I think you look beautiful and your dancing was … erm,’ Eddie clears his throat, ‘meserising.’

You laugh and hang your head slightly, ‘You don’t have to say that just to be nice Eddie.’ 

Eddie turns you round to face him again and moves his head down so that he was eye to eye with you. 

‘I have no reason to lie to you Y/N. To be honest, although that guy was a massive douche, I’m slightly jealous that he had the guts to go up to you on the dancefloor because god knows I wanted to.’ Eddie confesses to you. 

You smush yourself into Eddie burying your head in his chest and whisper, ‘I wanted it to be you.’

Eddie, not hearing what you said properly tenderly made space between you and his chest as he asked you to repeat yourself. 

‘I wanted it to be you.’ you say a little over a whisper and scan Eddie’s face for a reaction. Eddie’s face is plastered with perplexion. 

You waited for what feels like an eternity for Eddie to say something and as he didn’t immediately shoot you down you felt your confidence grow, you’d already embarrassed yourself enough tonight what was a little more. 

‘I wore this dress specifically for you and I was dancing like that so you would notice me and come over, it was all for you Eddie.’ you say this time with an air of confidence. 

Eddie’s eyebrows fully knitted together in confusion, ‘but… but you also said you were stupid for thinking you had a chance. Did you mean a chance with me?’ 

‘Yes,’ you nod warily, ‘I know to you I’m probably just Steve’s little sister and not someone you would ever consi…’

Your rant was cut short as Eddie pressed his plump lips on yours, you were temporarily frozen before melting into his touch and reciprocating the sensual movement of his lips. Eddie no longer sensing your hesitation deepens the kiss and slowly presses his tongue in your mouth. His hands slowly slide down your sides over his leather jacket all the way down until he comes to rest them on your waist, gently pulling you into him. You push your hands up his chest and come to link them round his neck gently tugging him down towards you deepening the kiss even more. You were still in a state of shock that Eddie was actually kissing you and you didn’t want it to end but you eventually had to break away due to lack of oxygen. 

You were both panting and staring at each other.

‘So you’re telling me this sexy ensemble was just for me?’ he asks, as his fingertips slowly stroke over the lace of your holdups, leaving goosebumps on your thighs. 

You blush and playfully smack him in the chest, ‘Are you really going to make me say it again?’

‘Yes, I certainly am. Just need to make sure I heard you right.’

‘I wore this dress especially for you Eddie Munson’ you say as seductively as you can, looking at Eddie through your lashes. 

[breanutbutter]

Left it all behind *Sam x OC*

*hey all! This is my first published fic so kindness is super appreciated that being said if you have any constructive suggestions those are more than welcomed! I’m hoping to make this a chaptered series so let me know how you like it! Please enjoy!*

Sam x OC

No triggers

2925 words

Summary: Sam and Liza are friends from college, Liza invites Sam to a graduation party and he stands her up. They lose connection and haven’t seen each other in 4 years. Liza doesn’t know why san fell off the face of the earth h but she’s happy to reconnect.

Chapter 1:

*Flashback to 2005*

Liza’s pov

2005 was my year, I was finally finishing my bachelors degree in History after many hours of cramming for exams and forgetting to eat. it was finally all worth it. I poured my blood sweat and soul into this degree. I'm pretty damn proud of myself. I only have a few more months left to finish studying and I'll be free.

Student life has been exhausting. Whoever told me it would be the best years of my life are absolutely full of it.

As I'm in the library staring at the few words I scribbled out in my notebook for the essay I'm supposed to be writing, I see a familiar flash of messy chestnut hair rush past me. I set my pen down and rotate my body to get a better view of the guy with the hair of course it’s Sam. Sam and I weren't very close to say the least we didn’t know each other very well at all we had a few mutual friends at school that caused us to cross paths pretty often. We met in the fall 4 years ago. My friends knew Sam's friends. He's been at most events I attend so he's comforted me in a weird i-don’t-know-you way. I've always been good at reading people, from strangers to friends I had a bad feeling about. Sam tries to act polished and put together but I can tell there's something in his life causing him to hide his true self. He’s always a storm of chaos flying through the halls in a rush darting from side to side. He’s always in a wrinkled collared shirt strung over his body, never tucked in his pants neatly like our peers. I just know there's something in him he’s ashamed of. “Hey Sam!” I shout down the library aisle at the lanky boy that's scurrying off somewhere probably late for something important. He turned his body to face me stopping dead in his tracks, there was a smear of sweat over his forehead causing him to swipe his hand over it wiping it away. He looked like a mess of lost time and stress, his face twisted up in a look of confusion as to why i’m calling him over.

“Are you going to Ethan's graduation party in two weeks? ” I asked him to cross my legs over each other resting my cheek in the palm of my hand. He cocked an eyebrow up at me “i don’t think i was invited” he shrugged about to turn away seemingly to dart off for whatever reason. “That's okay you can be my plus one. See you then Sam "I smile as I wave him off. He offers me a curt nod and shy goofy grin. Ethan is our mutual friend, he's friends with Sam’s girlfriend Jessica. That's why I thought it was odd he wasn't invited or maybe he just didn't want to make small talk with me there. I finish my last couple of sentences before I pack it up and stuff my book in my backpack, the interaction still lingering on my brain.

*2 weeks after the initial interaction*

My brain shocks me back to reality as I remember the conversation I had with Sam two weeks prior. Twas the night of Ethan's big graduation party. Ethan explained that he likes to throw his party before graduation so we could finish studying and give us a bit of relief before the big exam comes up which is much appreciated. After letting my mind wander back to Sam for a short moment I realize it's already 5pm and the party starts at 7pm. After lots of deliberation I decide to hop in the shower to scrub the grime of the day off my body. I run myself a steamy shower and glide in letting the warmth engulf my cold body. I dip my head under the stream making sure my hair gets evenly coated with the hot water before I begin my normal shower routine. After my relaxing shower I wrap my favorite pink fluffy towel around my body tucking in the loose end under my armpit making my way back to my room. I let my damp towel fall to the floor as I picked out my outfit. I normally go for the safest option: a collared shirt and a modest pair of taupe pants but tonight I decided to go out with a bang. I flip through my abundance of modest attire and reach for my black strappy dress. It fits my body in all the right places. It accentuates my slim waist and allows enough cleavage to give a taste of what’s underneath the dress. I smile to myself and slip it on after my underwear and bra. I finish up my hair and makeup with just enough time to drive over to Ethan’s house. I greet my best friend who grew up in a similar family situation as me: wealthy and unable to be reckless. We grew up with each other and were as close as two peas in a pod. She’s the one I can rant to about my parents considering she understands how old wealthy parents are she gives great advice. Olivia was just finishing up talking to Ethan when she greeted me “hey girl right on time as always” she slapped me on the shoulder pointing at the overhead clock showing I was in fact not on time and I was almost 30 minutes late. I laugh and shove her back “hey it takes time to look this good!” I shout in her direction. After I shrug off my coat and shoes she pulls me into Ethan’s lush kitchen pausing to grab two shot glasses.

“We’re letting loose tonight” she says as she reaches for the vodka I audibly gag “fuck dude vodka tastes like rubbing alcohol” I hiss as she chuckles and pours out shots “don’t be a puss” she says. I bring the cold bitter liquid and suck it back feeling the burning sensation hit the back of my throat “I hate you” I say slamming down my glass causing an echo to ring through Ethan’s very large house.

After a couple more shots we end up mingling in the living room. I'm constantly checking my watch waiting for Sam’s arrival but he doesn’t show. After two hours goes by I look at the door and let a disappointed sigh pass through my lips. I don’t know why I care so much. I don't even know the guy yet I’m here anxiously waiting for his arrival. Another hour goes by so do a few more shots and by this time I’m living my best life and dancing to I wanna dance with somebody with Olivia and a few other drunk girls. I pause halfway through the song to glance at the door. Nothing. I nervously look around and pull my phone out of my purse, shooting a quick text his way ‘hey Sam! you coming tonight?’ I quickly send it and push my phone back to its confines of my purse. I easily forget about the whole Sam situation and eventually I’m wasted and it’s time to head home. Sam never texted me back; he stood me up. I shoved the thought out of my head as I stumbled through my door. He wasn’t even my friend, he probably had other plans.

I stripped out of my clothes and dove into my bed happy to head to bed after an exciting and excruciating night.

Present day 5 years later (2009)

I open my eyes as the sound of my alarm clock blares through the room. I squint as I roll over to check the time “shit” I mutter it’s already 8:15am I’m going to be late for work. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and jump up out of the warmth enclosing me. I leap into my closet and grab a white button up shirt with a small yellow daisy on the breast pocket, a black pencil skirt and my favorite black blazer. I quickly throw my outfit on my body and run to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror as I am cleaning my teeth, a mixture of toothpaste and saliva dripping down my chin. I'm unable to believe I’m late for work. little miss perfect is never late. I shake my head and spit the toothpaste into the sink. I’ve only been late once in my life: senior year of college that following Monday after Ethan’s graduation party. I was so stuck in my head as to why Sam never showed up. Rejection was my biggest enemy and I over thought every little thing even back then. I barely knew the guy yet I was so disappointed he turned me down for some reason. I shook the past out of my head and decided to focus on the now: getting to work as soon as possible. After slipping in some orthopedic flats I grabbed my coffee mug, purse and keys and raced out the door. I ended up late to work and was stuck in rush hour for nearly an hour.

I rushed into the museum huffing and puffing, setting my purse and coffee cup down at my desk. It wasn’t like I would get in trouble for my late arrival after all I was the head conservator . It was more of an internal issue I’ve dealt with for as long as I could remember.

“Hey Elizabeth what’s got you so out of breath?” My coworker Brent asked with a look of worry plastered on his face “I’m late” I said between breaths. He nodded and gave me a gently smile before turning on his heels,as soon as he was almost out of my office he turned back around “oh Elizabeth I almost forgot 2 Agents from the FBI have requested a meeting with our conservator and that would be you, they’ll be here in an hour” he smile and resumed his journey out of my office. “Thanks Brent!” I shout to him as he saunters away. I finally get a chance to sit down and enjoy my coffee over my many emails. What kind of business does the FBI have here at an art museum? I push the thoughts to the back of my head and let my breathing get back to normal. After about an hour I hear a knock on my office door “come in '' I shout. Brent pushes the door open with a small nudge and smiles politely at me “they’re here Elizabeth '' I nod my head and gather up my paperwork. “Show them the way to conference room 2 I’ll be there shortly, thanks Brent '' I give a swift nod before packing up my stuff to bring into the conference room, I’m unsure of what they’re looking for so it’s better to be prepared. I make my way to the conference space with my stack of paperwork and my laptop bag slung over my left shoulder. I give it a gentle nudge and it swings right open.

I step into the large room and set all my paperwork and laptop bag on the large conference table in the middle of the room before making any introductions. My back was turned to the two men as I prepared all of my information in a nice spread on the table. Once I finished laying everything neatly out I cleared my throat and turned around to face them. I firstly notice a man a little taller than me who gives me an almost forced smile and proceeds to introduce himself “ thank you for meeting us Miss Thayer i’m agent Hamil and this is Agent ford” the man says offering his hand to shake mine. I extend my hand into his and give him a firm handshake with a smile on my face. “It's a pleasure to meet you Agent, please call me Liza” I say gingerly before letting my eyes wander to the taller boy beside him. I only had a small glance at him previously while i was talking to agent Hamil so i didn't get a good view of him yet. As my eyes find his face I begin to wonder where I knew him from. He looked awfully familiar yet I couldn't place my finger on it. The taller boy snaps me out of my staring spell and extends his hand out to mine “nice to meet you miss” he says before taking a step back shuffling in his spot. As I hear his hoarse voice my mind is able to source whose voice it is: Sam Winchester’s. I am so beyond confused at this moment that my brain is running in overdrive. I swallow the saliva in my mouth harshly before offering them a seat. Sam looks the same as I last saw him yet different at the same time. He's taller and older yet there's something sadder in his eyes. He looks exhausted from life. He let his hair grow out, he could barely see over the mop of shaggy hair sitting on his head and now his hair is about chin length it suits him this way. I take a breath and turn my head to Sam nervously. What if he doesn’t remember me? Will he laugh at me or think im stupid? What if it isn’t even him? “Sam Winchester?” I blurt out my brain spitting those words out before I even have time to think if I want to ask him that question.

Sam gives me a confused look as if he’s unsure of how to respond. He doesn’t answer my question but explains why they are meeting with me. Sam talks for a few minutes about an artifact they are investigating before his partner, the shorter one from earlier interrupts him. “Where do you think you know him from?” he asks coldly pointing to his partner, it seemed like the question was still on his mind. I brush the strand of hair out of my face and look over at them. “I’m sorry for the abrupt question you look like someone i went to college with” i look down at my feet feeling the embarrassment ripple over my body and hit my face causing a sense of warmth to heat my cheeks up. His partner who I assumed was Sam pipes up “what college did you go to” he asks looking at me with a look of interest “stanford” i reply still looking at the hardwood floors. I look up and my eyes meet his, he has a look of remembrance on his face and grins widely “Liza Thayer? Whoa it's been awhile” his partner punches him in the arm and gives him a look of what-are-you-doing. I faintly hear agent hamil or whatever his name is angry whisper into sam’s ear “we’re working a case man stop flirting with the museum lady” they continued to silently argue before sam looked back at me from across the table “so how have you been?” he asked so casually and all i’m wondering is where he's been after he stood me up and dropped off of the face of the earth. “You know, living life. How have you been? How’s Jess?” I ask, the air seems to shift after i ask about Jessica Sam shuffles into his seat uncomfortably “uh Jessica passed away the night of the party” she speaks slowly and looks away “i’m so sorry” i say softly giving him an empathic look.

We stop talking about our personal lives after that and begin talking about artifacts, giving them the info they need. “Here’s a little more in depth information on the origin and other useful things about the tablet you are investigating” I say and hand them a few loose papers I scooped up off the table. They nod and thank me for the help “come around if you have any more questions” I smile as i stand up. “Thanks for the help” Sam says once more before they both exit my office.

After the long day I settle in my cozy pjs on my couch with a warm mug of tea between my hands trying to wrap my head around the day. I was late and I ran into Sam, what an unexpected day. I felt bad about Jessica, this whole time I was victimizing myself when it wasn’t even about me. Sam went through a whole loss that night and I was worried that he stood me up? Boo hoo. I just switched friends on the tv when I heard my phone ring. I saunter over to my home phone that's primarily for business calls. I pick up and hear Brent on the other line “someone broke into the museum” he said panic running evidently through his voice. “What?’” I ask not expecting to hear that at 8pm at night. Brent explains the whole situation to me about how an ancient tablet was stolen shortly after close and that i need to come down and access the scene. I nod into the phone as if he could see me “I'll be down as soon as possible. Thank you for letting me know Brent, "I say before hanging the phone up. What is up with today? I think to myself before rushing out of the house to investigate whatever the hell is going on.

[knickynoo]

Previous anon here. I fell victim of characters limit :( I don't know if you've adressed the subject before and if you have I am so sorry please ignore that it: Do you have headcanons about the relationship between Uncle Ned and Alex BEFORE THE SLAP (we know Alex was fangirling over his uncle but girl...your analyses give me life so i'll drink your hc like a dying man would the water of an oasis), and AFTER THE SLAP? Does Alex forgive ? Is it one more trauma to add to his long list ? Love you <3

You know, I've actually never done any Alex & Uncle Ned focused headcanons. A friend of mine requested I do an analysis post of the Uncle Ned episodes like 2 years ago, and I was like "Ok, sure!" and then never followed through, lol. (Also, don't apologize; even if I had gotten an ask like this in the past, I'd still be happy to add to my previous thoughts!)

Alex and Uncle Ned BTS (Before the Slap)

Alex was Uncle Ned's #1 fan from the time he was young. Since Ned knew much more about the business world than Steven and Elyse, visits from his uncle gave Alex the chance to gush about the subject with someone who was just as interested as he was.

The thing about Uncle Ned is that he's SUPER fun and silly and carefree, which is very opposite of how Alex is, but Ned also seems to "get" his nephew really well. Alex is sort of an outcast in his family, but he and Ned can connect intellectually, and I can see that as being important to Alex, especially as a little kid who's considered weird by his peers. His Uncle Ned serves as an example of how someone can take their interest in business and turn it into success.

Though they have fun with their serious conversations, Ned thinks it's important to encourage Alex to broaden his horizons. So, yeah, he'll sit around and talk the stock market and economics for a while, but then he tries to get his nephew to focus on something else. A game of baseball, discussions about movies or music, etc. Ned wants Alex to get out of his head every so often, and he's good at figuring out how to do that.

Alex definitely has a framed picture of Uncle Ned somewhere in his room. Maybe a picture in his wallet, too, to go along with the article about his uncle that he carries around. He takes it out to impress people. "Did you know my uncle is Junior Vice President of the Syntram Corporation? Here's an article and picture of him." Likewise, Ned definitely talks about Alex at his work. "You know what my brilliant nephew said the other day...?"

I'm pretty sure both Uncle Ned episodes contain scenes where Alex and Ned are in the kitchen eating late-night snacks after the rest of the family has gone to bed, and I'd like to headcanon that as being a pattern whenever he comes to visit. The two of them meet up and sit around the table, chatting and eating cereal or sandwiches while they chat about the goings on in their lives. It's Uncle Ned's chance to pick Alex's brain and get the inside scoop on his school and friends and such.

ATS (After the Slap) ☹️

I have a lot of conflicting thoughts regarding how things would play out in the aftermath of "Say Uncle." It really is a bummer that they drop Ned entirely from the show. I mean, the least they could've done is mention him in passing in another episode or something to let us know how he was doing? Like. That episode leaves SO MUCH unaddressed. Does Ned actually go to rehab? Does he get better? Mend the now broken relationship with his family and dear nephew who thought the world of him???

As far as headcanons go, I can go the depressing route or the optimistic route. Depressing route says that Ned tries rehab for a little but doesn't stick with it. The fact that his life has kind of fallen apart around him, coupled with his inability to take things seriously/his need to constantly goof off might lead him to be like, "Why bother with this?" If that's the case, he'd likely only spiral more into alcoholism and continue to wreck his own life. And, being ashamed of how he acted in front of his family, I could see him just running away from it all, going off the grid and cutting contact. Very much a bummer to think about. (And could explain why they never talk about him after that episode)

The optimistic route says that The Slap serves as Ned's firm wake up call that he needs to get his act together. He's horrified that he could do something so terrible, but it pushes him to get the help that he needs. He goes to rehab, gets sober, and puts the pieces of his life back together. With Elyse being established as such a protective, mother-hen type older sister, she keeps in contact and supports him. Eventually, the Keatons are able to get to a place of moving forward and starting a new chapter with Uncle Ned.

I'd really hope that Alex would be able to deal with what happened--talk things through with his parents and eventually Uncle Ned--and forgive Ned. It's clear that they have a special bond, and it's sad to think of Alex losing that. If Uncle Ned truly works on himself and changes, I think Alex would be able to forgive his uncle. In fact, I think Ned might have a harder time forgiving himself for what he'd done than Alex would have forgiving him.

Still, the whole event could end up being added to Alex's Trauma Pile, even if things work out. Having your favorite uncle in the whole world hit you so hard in a drunken rage that you go flying halfway across the room is not exactly something you just easily move on from. And our guy Alex already has a really hard time processing his emotions and tends to latch onto/obsess over things, so he'd probably need some help to work through that. Maybe he talked it over with his therapist at some point during "A, My Name is Alex."

Thanks for the ask! Your line about drinking my headcanons like a man in the desert is one of my favorite things I've ever gotten in an ask. Love you, too <3

[gateskp]

This is a story followers from Twitter and BSky know, but since I'm getting into Tumblr, I figured I'd share.

I'm very much in love with my best friend from college. He is the unrequited love of my life. I refer to him as The One I Love. And tonight I fell in love with him all over again.

In college, people thought we were dating because we were (and still are) so close. We did have class together every single day for a full semester and then class together multiple times a week for semesters after that. We'd hang out in the bio student lounge and watch TV on his laptop together. I made him a Pokeball birthday cake for his 21st birthday because he is a ridiculous nerd and loves Pokemon (no shade, I'm also a ridiculous nerd). When we had evening classes that ended at 9pm, I'd drive him home to make sure he got home safe and quickly. He made me laugh and smile and enjoy, y'know, living, which was something I didn't always enjoy in college.

We...did a lot of things that could definitely be construed as couple activities. But we were not a couple. Just very close, excellent complements of each other, with a hint of feelings on my part.

Side note: It's actually fairly entertaining to look back on because in our practical lab classes, our professors deliberately paired us up because we worked so well together (the assumption being because we were a couple).

Side note 2: He is a very attractive guy imo, and I semi-jokingly call him a ridiculously hot nerd. I'm queer and fall somewhere in ace land, so I do enjoy admiring him but there's nothing sexual about our relationship. Which I think has helped it in a good way.

He calls me every week and we talk. Like. For 2-3 hours *every week*. This has been going on for literally 2 years. Originally he started calling me to talk about shows we were watching, but now we talk about anything and everything. There's a lot of venting about grad school (we're both PhD-ing) and just...being there for each other. I love it. He listens to me ramble and he tells me stories and interesting tidbits and whatever. It's very give-and-take. Our weekly calls strengthened and cemented my feelings for him.

He knows my feelings because 2 years ago (?? how has it been that long) I wrote him a(n 8 page) love letter conveying my feelings and that led to a very awkward conversation about how feelings were not returned. I still think we use different language to describe similar things BUT ANYWAY. I respect that we don't see things the same way, much as it may hurt. That's what it means to love someone, respecting their feelings and experiences and personhood.

Side note 3: I have this secret fantasy about what our future could look like and I'm not going to let it go until there's no hope at all. He is one of the most important people in my world, and I truly only want the best for him. His health and happiness is tantamount to nothing, and whatever role I play in that, so be it. If he found another person who brought him even a fraction of the feelings he brings me, I'd officiate the wedding myself. What matters more than anything else is that I have my closest friend in my life and we remain close. Whatever it takes...

What's amazing(?) is that our relationship...it's gotten even stronger since then. That conversation was...A Lot...but I think it made whatever we have even stronger. It definitely didn't get worse.

I look forward to to our calls. They're part of my routine, I deliberately set aside this time on Thursday nights for him. I do not allow things to be scheduled for Thursday nights. Thursday nights are for The One I Love and no one else.

When we're talking to each other...I feel connected to another person. The world exists outside of my day-to-day bubble. I feel like...when I talk to him, I feel like there's a person who cares about what happens to me.

One night a couple of years ago I told him about my mental health struggles. It was something I don't think he fully recognised I was dealing with in college. But I was really struggling and having a hard time and I just couldn't pretend everything was okay on the phone. So I asked him if I could tell him, he said yes, so I told him everything. And it was really hard for me to do that, there was a lot of starting and stopping and stuttering (I stutter a lot anyway, this was worse). And at the end of it all, I told him that I knew what I just said was a lot and I understood if he needed some space or didn't want to talk for a while or whatever, because that's how people reacted in the past. There have been people who've decided to stop being friends with me because this is too much, and I understood if he felt that way because it's a lot. I wouldn't hold it against him.

And he just said "I'm still here." He said he wasn't going anywhere. And he hasn't.

More than once I've made self-deprecating jokes because how else does one deal with their terrible mental health and he reminds me that he cares. He has confidence in me when I don't. Once I texted him on a Friday night and told him to tell me something good that happened to him that day because I was having a really tough night and needed to hear something positive was happening in the world. He responded by calling me and being there for me.

We trust each other with things that no one else knows. It means the world to me that he'll tell me things that he won't tell anyone else, and I will take his secrets to the grave. Trust is...complicated for me. But I trust him. He won't hurt me. It's something I've had to really come to terms with, here is someone who I can be vulnerable around who won't hurt or manipulate me.

Last year I saw him for the first time since 2017 and it was like no time had passed at all. We spent 4 days together. I took him to see his first Broadway show, Hadestown, which was the only show he's ever been really eager to see. He took me to see SPACE at the Illuminarium because he knows how much I geek out over space, how awe-inspiring I find it. He talked me out of dropping $700 on a Flash comic, which was extremely wise. I tried and failed to cook, which he doesn't let me forget. He got me hooked on anime, which was apparently his deviously secret plan all along (which shocked me but I absolutely love it). I "made" him split half a gallon of Blue Bell ice cream with me because I hadn't had it in years (it took 0 effort, the man has no control when it comes to sweets and I tease him about it constantly). We helped his friend move. We sat on the couch on our laptops silently enjoying each other's presence.

It was truly the best long weekend I've had in who-knows-how-long. If the rest of my life looked like that weekend, I think I would be happy. Genuinely wonderfully happy and enjoying life.

The day I had to leave, I completely lost it. He gave me a goodbye hug and I completely broke down on his shoulder because I'd just had the best weekend in living memory and was going back to my quickly-approaching preliminary exam and having issues with my advisors. He knew all of this. I sobbed on his shoulder, and he held onto me. He didn't let go until he knew I stopped crying and was safe to drive. (I cried on and off the entire 7 hours drive)

I have pictures of us from this trip on my desk in lab, and they always make me smile, they have so much positivity associated with them. They also made it onto my Christmas card.

I'm going to see him again next month when I run the marathon in his city. We have a growing list of things to do which is entirely dessert places he wants to take me to, because we both love dessert and sweets. Tonight we were talking about when I might come down. I told him it's completely up to him because he has to put up with me and my bullshit. The race is on a Sunday, so I'd come down as early as the Tuesday before.

He doesn't know his schedule yet because science and experiment timing can be tricky. But he might be taking Wednesday off. He said he already plans on spending all day Thursday with me.

Tonight I fell in love all over again.

[smokespriteflx]

2 - tell me more i could die

You couldn't help but blush at the kdrama you were watching. Your mind was going places on its own, yet you thought that as long as you didn't directly acknowledge it, it would be fine.

Another notification startled you. This time your smile dropped. It was a WhatsApp notification, which meant it was from someone back in your country. More specifically, your boyfriend. For now. He was sorry, but he would never say it. He just sent you "Hey" and a cat sticker. The distance was rough between you both. You had been dating each for a couple years, were almost about to move in together when your dream job changed your life completely.

It had begun as a home office job like any other, a company from South Korea hiring lawyers from your contry to work in their legal department, helping them enter the Argentinian market. But soon enough your hard work (and dual nationality) paid off and the more you got promoted, the more vital you became to the company. Two years later you had found yourself boarding a plane straight to your new home across the globe.

Of course this didn't come without its doubts and problems. You had talked with your boyfriend about the possibility of splitting up, but both of you were still not ready to let go, settling for a long distance relationship to see if you could make it work. It wasn't working so far. You were too doubtful and he was too trustful. There were times when you thought he was just taking you for granted, or worse.

With a sigh you opened the app and typed a reply. The conversation kept going for a while without neither of you acknowledging the fight you had a few days ago. Though you preferred it this way, your heart told you it was not okay to store it all up like it was nothing. When it got too late, you excused yourself and went to sleep. That night you greeted your pillow with tears once again.

6 am on a Saturday the phone rang with a loud ringtone. You could swear it rang even higher than normally. Without opening your eyes, you answered the call.

"MARU Oh my god I'm so sorry, I know I woke you up but this is important" You could only sigh at the nickname and the high pitched voice practically drilling your brain through the line. Your sister was right though, she was well aware of the time zone difference and would've never dared to text you, let alone call you, at untimely hours. "You don't need to worry! It's not family related or anything bad" she continued. You nodded out of habit, then made a noise for her to know that you were there listening.

"Guess... who... is going... for a few days... to visit you!!!!" Each word said higher than the last, deep down it made you happy, but it was too early for you to be able to give a proper reaction. "It's okay, I know you're excited, you don't have to answer right now. I just wanted to let you know first and foremost, I'll be there next week for a couple of days!!"

"Great. I'm glad. Let me know the details later" you said. On the other side you heard a long "okaaaay" then the call dropped. You were now fully awake.

Instagram seemed the best choice yet again for a distraction and a way to ease yourself to start your day. You were more than pleased to see that early birds get the worm as kseokjin had just uploaded a new story a few minutes ago. This time it was a picture of a mess on the floor, next to a very guilty looking dog. You felt a rush through your body, and it almost felt that your fingers typed on their own a reply.

You immediately locked the phone, throwing it far away in your bed. A giggle escaped your mouth and you couldn't help but to cover your face with your sheets. Seconds later, you took a deep breath and pretended to no one that that didn't just happen.

It was just a text, just a friendly text. It was okay, you didn't have any friends in Korea, so it was fine for you to talk to people. It was encouraged, even. It didn't have to be something awkward, besides he was probably dating that semi influencer girl who had posted him on her story. It was fine.

*Ding*

Oh shit. Time to face the consequences of your actions. You checked the preview on your notifications tab.

"🤨"

Shit. A long pause. Another ding.

"I'd say this is not..."

The message was cut by the end of your phone. You questioned if you should reply fast. Quickly shaking your head, you repeated what you said earlier: it doesn't have to be awkward, he can be just a friend. You opened up the DM.

This could become a conversation. It was your turn to say something. You decided to try to sound neutral, like a casual conversation with a stranger, which essentially, it was.

"Yeah, kids these days can get away with anything"

"ㅋㅋㅋ tell me about it, I have to clean up this mess now"

"Right. Good luck with that!!"

He liked the reply and that was it. You felt a little dissapointed that he didn't keep it going, but on the third time you read everything again you could tell that you were the one who finished the conversation. It was okay. It should not be that important anyways.

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

You don’t want to miss dessert - Rio (Good Girls)

Ok so let’s be honest, last night’s episode was just pure teasing, the hands, the smirks, the bedroom scene. God have mercy I’m about to bust 😂 The thought of Rio making you cum into his hands in his own family home while everyone is waiting outside is just 👅 Enjoy this one 😏

Warning : Smut

Word Count : 1.6k (Not proofread)

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Being in business with Rio was definitely a challenge for you. You’ve had your arguments over the past 2 years, them not always ending well. You had wanted out after 8 months, but he wouldn’t let you do that. He had threatened you for you to come back to work with him. The problem with your relationship, was that both of you always wanted to be right and have the upper hand. He loved that you were daring and confident, but he often needed to remind you who was boss.

You could say your relationship was complicated. It was only business related, even though the both of you had slept together a couple of times before, not making it a recuring thing. Three times, you had slept together three times since you had met him, each time better than the other. You would be lying if you said you weren’t drawn and attracted to Rio. Hell, even his name made you feel puddy. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever hooked up with before. Maybe it was the fact that you never really met someone like him, which is normal cause Rio is unique.

People wouldn’t necessary imagine the both of you working and being together, but that’s why it made perfect sense. Neither your entourage nor the FBI would suspect you to be in business with a guy like him. By the look of it, you seem to live in two different worlds, but you were very much alike. You needed to be in control, just like him and you had a certain way to plan and do things, which matched his way to do business.

He thrusted you, and he had spoken to you about meeting important people, which you were nervous for. You didn’t want to imagine someone more dangerous and intimidating than him, but you tried to prepare yourself for the worse. You were supposed to meet later that day and he had texted you the address. Parts of you was always being skeptical about his next move, fearing something bad could happen to you, not that you had anything to hide.

Being on your way to meet him, you felt the palms your hands getting sweaty, wiping them off on the black dress you chose to wear. Just like Rio, dark colors were your go to, often wearing dresses and skirts to show your legs. You got out of the car, walking slowly towards the red door, knocking on it lightly.

“Hey mama” a deep throaty voice startled you, making you turn around to see your boss boarding a slight smirk on his face, eyeing you up and down.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer as he motioned for you to follow him through the backyard. You got nervous for a minute but once you passed the wooden door, you saw kids running around and the smell of grilled food making your mouth water calmed you down. He walked towards the table, putting his arms around an older lady’s shoulder, bringing her closer to him.

“This is my boss” he said, looking at her, then diverting his eyes towards yours quickly

“I’m just his grandmother” she said, chuckling lightly before looking back at you. “You must be (Y/N)”

“I am” you answered, nodding softly

“Well, both of you come take your seat, you arrived just in time for dinner” she said motioning her hands towards the table, where a few plates were already laid down. Rio pulled your chair as you sat down, mumbling a quick thank you, string at him as he took the seat next to you. You were getting slightly less nervous as all of you ate your delicious food while talking and laughing.

“So how do you know my uncle?” a 10-year-old kid asked you, taking a bite of his chicken.

“She’s just a work friend, bud” Rio answered for you

“What’s she do?” the kid asked again, looking at his uncle

“Um, she helps me out” he said looking at you “That right?” Rio smirked at you as you nodded

“That all?” the guy in front of him asked, stepping into the conversation, looking devilishly at the both of you. “Heard a lot about you (Y/N)” he continued as you felt Rio getting tense beside you.

“Um yeah, that’s all” you said slightly blushing, feeling Rio’s hand on your back, rubbing it slowly. He changed the subject, knowing his cousin was making you uncomfortable. You continued eating quietly as they all laughed and talked together. You could feel his hands on your back still, pushing back your chair before excusing yourself.

“I’m sorry, is there a bathroom I could use please?” You smiled slightly at Rio’s grandma, as she gave you direction. You made your way inside, finding the bathroom easily. You did what you had to do, and washed your hands looking at yourself in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss. You could hear the sound of their laughter from where you were, making you sight lightly.

You got out, making your way through the hallway, passing a bedroom, which seemed to be his grandmother’s. You stopped by the door, seeing some picture frames placed neatly on a bookshelf, making you walked closer into the room to look closely at them. You picked a picture of a young Rio graduating into your hands and it made you wonder what he studied. You didn’t picture him as a big school person, so you were surprised to say the least. You jumped slightly as Rio’s husky voice, interrupted you.

“What are you doing?” he said, leaning against the door frame, looking at you, deeply.

“I don’t know, I just got curious” you shrugged your shoulders, watching his every moves. He moved closer to you, making you hold your breath, nervous and aroused. He made you weak in the knees and you could hardly speak without getting flustered. Even thought you were a confident woman, his body close to yours always had that effect on you, and he knew it. You turned towards the bookcase again, feeling his firm chest pressing against your back, as he picked up a smaller picture frame, the both of you looking at it.

“You find anything interesting?” he asked, his mouth next to your ear, sending down shivers down your spine. He put the frame back, his arms brushing yours lightly, making you turn around to face him. His eyes burned into yours, waiting for your answer. You licked your lips, looking at your fumbling hands before meeting his dark eyes again

“I don’t know” you said, feeling bold you dropped both of your hands on his chest, sliding them down until they could rest on the waistband of his pants “You tell me” you stated, before unbuckling his belt.

He stopped you, grabbing your wrist softly, making you look at him a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He shook his head slightly, putting your hand down and dragging his towards your thigh. His finger danced on your soft skin, goosebumps rising onto your body. He lifted your leg slowly, resting it on his waist. His face now in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning over throat, making you close your eyes, appreciating the moment. You felt his long fingers trail up to the side of your emerald, green lace panties, before making his way to your dripping core, spreading your juices, letting out a throaty groan.

The sound of him only making you wetter, his finger making its way into your warm tight flesh. A quiet moan erupted from your mouth as you grabbed his shoulder firmly, bringing him even closer to you. The room was silent, except for the sounds of his digits pumping in and out of you quickly. Your breathing was getting heavier, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, trying to keep your moans to yourself. His thumb found his way to your clit, massaging it slowly, putting just enough pressure to make your body quiver.

He inserted another finger inside of your leaking fold, fastening his pace, making you clench around him. One of your hand traveled to his neck, digging your fingers into the back of it, as he let out a deep groan next to your ear.

“R-Rio” you mumbled quietly, clenching your eyes shut, feeling your climax approaching by the second.

“I know mama” he whispered “let it go” right when the words left his lips, you felt yourself relax into his embrace, as your orgasm took over you. He helped you ride it out, pumping his fingers slowly, before removing them from your inside. You faltered your dress as he moved towards the door.

“Hurry up, you don’t want to miss dessert” he said smirking before leaving you all flustered into his grandma’s bedroom. You waited a few minutes, before following behind him, joining the others around the table outside.

“Ahhh here she is. We wondered where you’ve been” Rio’s cousin exclaimed as you sat down. “Pie?” he handed you a plate, not waiting for your reply. You took it, placing it in front of you listening to the older lady speak. As you all finished your dessert, you saw Rio from the corner of your eyes, dig his finger into the whipped cream remaining on his plate, and popping them into his mouth sucking slowly on them. You could feel his eyes on you, and you could only imagine him smirking as his tongue lapped at his finger, the same fingers that were minutes ago buried into your tight pussy. Just the thought of him tasting the remaining of your hot fluid made you clench your thighs together, Rio not missing the sight of you getting flustered again.

“Mhh … I think this must be the best dessert I’ve ever tasted”

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

Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

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

or

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

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

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

part 2

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

One week later

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

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

“H?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Seriously, H?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t it be both?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a little for my taste.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Y/N, right!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

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

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

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

“I wasn’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

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

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And on the face?”

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

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

“Lipstick?”

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

“It was only from-”

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

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

- 

part 2

[dollslayer]

Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

[finelinevogue]

hey! first of all i’m obsessed with all of your writing i swear i cry every single time😭🤍 i look forward to reading your stuff when i get home from work, and it helps me when i’m stressed. so basically hi i love you. i recently celebrated 1 year sober and i was wondering if you could write something abou harry dedicating a song to his gf for maintaining her sobriety? (only if you’re comfortable ofc!)

hi, i love you too! sorry for making you cry😭 your words are so kind and you’ve made my day so much brighter! congratulations on your one year sobriety!!! i hope you’re very proud of yourself, because i’m really proud of you - always <33 i’m not sure what you are sober for and i don’t to be invasive and ask, so i decided to base this one off an alcohol addiction. this one’s for you, my lovely; (oh and p.s. let’s pretend harry wrote ‘home’ just for you and one direction never wrote it!)

Today you celebrated being one year sober.

Four years ago you developed an alcohol addiction. It was the worst time of your life; going to parties just to wake up still paralytic, drinking an alcoholic drink with every meal and a couple in between, falling asleep drunk every night and not learning your lesson from the hangover the next morning. You were self destructing and were too gone to see it happen. The people around you could see it happening though. Your family and friends abandoned you because you they believed you were a lost cause. You were alone for 3 lonely years, until last year you met Harry.

The one time that you were actually sober, shopping in your local Aldi, was the first time you met him.

He was dressed from a run and was in the fridge section to grab himself a protein shake before he was about to run home - that you’d come to learn. He made minimal conversation with you, but it was enough for him to fall for you - hard. Every time you met up with him you tried to be as sober as you could, but it caught up to you. You slipped and shut yourself out from him, not wanting him to leave you like everyone else had so you left him first.

As it would be, he never left you. He saved you.

He was there for you in your darkest moments. He was there to help lock your demons away and introduce life back into your heart and soul. You wanted to be better for him, he deserved that much. Half a year after meeting him, he managed to encourage you to attend counselling sessions which you would be worse without. He made calls to friends to help you re-connect with people, truly friendly people. He hugged you on the days you felt anxious or tempted and let you cry on his shoulder when you felt like a failure, all the whilst he would kiss your forehead and squeeze you to remind you just how much you were loved and just how proud he was of you. It took you a while to believe it, but;

Harry Styles loves and is proud of you.

You were so happy to spending the day with him, getting to watch him do what he loves so much. He was in Denver, Colorado, tonight and his set was going perfect so far. He’d given his infamous “ass or face” speech, which made the fans go wild. He, unfortunately, had to use the oxygen mask to replenish his lungs because he wasn’t feeling great. He’d even shouted to you when you were blowing him kisses saying, “I wanna kiss you but I can’t” which made you tear up ever so slightly. Today was such a proud and happy day for you, so extra moments like this for you were the cherries on the top of the cake.

“Okay, so we have 15 more minutes of love tonight for you.” Harry spoke into his microphone, after singing Treat People With Kindness and looking so very sweaty. “15 minutes of extra love compared to the previous show.” The fans screamed at this and you knew the fans in Vegas would no doubt be extra jealous.

“He’s allowed to do that?” You asked Jeff beside you, wondering why he was changing the timings all of a sudden. He hadn’t told you about this.

“He specifically requested it before going onstage.” Jeff answered, winking at you and nodding his head back to the stage for you to focus.

“Now. Today is not only special because I get to play in front of you lovely people,” the crowd let out a deafening scream, “but because it is an important day for my Y/N.” He smiled, looking over in your direction. The crowd screamed even louder for you.

“What is he doing?” You asked Jeff but he only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Liar, you thought.

You’d never publicly told anyone about your addiction because it was something that you were embarrassed about. You hated who you were and you tried your hardest not to think about that person anymore. Harry was the only person who knew and you liked to keep it that way, for the time being. Not even your new friends knew.

“I’m so proud of Y/N, always, but especially today.” Harry spoke, walking down the stage to the end of the runway where his mic was set up and still keeping eye contact with you. Your tears were full in your eyes and some even streaming down your face as you took in his words.

He’d spent all morning loving on you. He didn’t let you two leave the hotel room until 5 minutes before the buses were leaving, because he wanted to spend as much time as possible showing you just how much he loved you. Turns out 4 rounds of sex, 2 blowjobs and 3 times getting eaten out doesn’t even come close to showing that, according to him, but it did make you feel worthy and that’s all you’ve wanted to feel for the past few years. He made you feel worth it - it being loved and supported and safe. He was your blanket of comfort and you’d let him swallow you up every day for the rest of your life if it meant feeling this way forever.

Harry had even bought you a card and a cake, one that had a singular candle in to mark your one year anniversary of being sober. The sense of pride getting to blow out that candle was a feeling second to none, except from maybe the 7 orgasms you were given.

“So if you don’t mind, i’m going to sing this song for my girlfriend. It’s new, but i’m sure you’ll pick up the chorus. This is called ‘Home’ and it’s just for you, m’love.” God damn these tears, you could barely see Harry pick up his galaxy painted guitar and tilt his body so he was facing you.

The song had you in tears.

Fans were both recording you and Harry, but you were too unaware to notice them when all you could focus on were the words he was singing to you. Every line was so clear and it made your heart burst through your chest that little bit more each time. You cupped your hands under your vin as you cried over every new line of song, watching him strum on the guitar and sing his heart out as if every ounce of him was just for you. His words, his voice, his heart and soul were completely yours. The fans did quickly pick up the chorus and the atmosphere was completely still, yet electric with them feeding off Harrys energy and gifting it to you.

“You’ll never feel like you’re alone, i’ll make this feel like home.”

His last line was sung and his last chord was struck and you couldn’t move an inch. You were stuck watching him with intense loved eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of support and comfort just from this moment alone. You thought what he’d given you this morning in the hotel was love, but now you questioned that. This felt like a reminder you were free and safe and found. You felt significant. And for a moment, that all felt a like bit stronger than love.

You didn’t even realise your boyfriend was standing in front of you until he was. He caressed your cheek in one hand, holding the neck of his guitar with his other. The fans were being caged behind a barricade, but they weren’t even violently pushing because they wanted to see how he treated you and acted around you behind closed doors. Your relationship was very private, so this was very new for you too. You liked him close though. So much so that everyone else sort of slipped away.

“That bad?” He asked teasingly, referring to the amount of tears you were crying.

“Was a bit rusty in some places.” You teased back, you and him both knowing you didn’t mean a word that you’d just said. You both laughed until you caught Harrys hand on your cheek and moved it so you could plant a soft kiss to his palm. “Thank you for making me feel home.” You smiled, new tears forming in both yours and his now.

“Thank you for being my home.” He replied, smiling through the light tears.

“Stop crying,” you laughed through your own tears, reaching out your other hand to wipe his away, “not very rockstar of you.”

“Can’t help myself when i’m so proud of you.” He answered, moving his hand off his guitar so he could help wipe your tears away. Both of you were helping each other recover, forgetting about the world just for a minute to have a moment with each other. You both deserved that much.

[freddie-weaselbee]

Real//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, I think that’s it ?

Summary: One small favor. A trade. That was all it was. Mutually beneficial! Until things between Fred and Y/N and their new relationship get a little more complicated and cause too many prying eyes. 

Prompts: Fake Dating with dialogue prompts “we could have prevented this!” and “did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: Day 3 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

 “I’ve made my list of rules which you will abide by and under no circumstances will be broken. Number 1: this ruse does not leave the shop. I don’t want random people on the street questioning me because you couldn’t keep your huge mouth shut. Number 2: I will allow you to kiss me on the cheek and forehead as  often as you like, within reason of course, and you can give me a peck on the lips 3 times in total. I will keep track. And Number 3: Don’t take up the entire bed any more or I will be forced to push you onto the floor. Sound good?”

“Bloody hell, you are crazy aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit.”

Fred was starting to regret his previous decision of making this arrangement with you, but a jingle of his shop bell and glance at who was walking in quickly made those feelings disappear. 

“Deal,” he said, eyes not leaving the woman who had just entered. “But we start right now and I want one of those kisses.”

You looked up at your friend, confused at his sudden nerves before you followed his line of sight and understood immediately. You sighed and ruffled your hair a bit, looking for a mirror to fix your makeup. “I’m on it, give me a few minutes.”

Fred nodded, still watching his target walk slowly through the aisles of his store. As she turned a corner you ducked into the back office, waiting for a good time to reemerge. 

“Freddie!” A high pitched voice pierced through the ear, equal parts flirtatious and absolutely unbearable. Fred glanced up, pretending not to have noticed the girl before. Putting on a fake smile, he set down the product he was pretending to tinker with and placed his hands on the counter table. 

“Brooklyn, hi! How are you?” he asked, hoping his fake politeness would pass as genuine. 

“Ugh I am so good. So SO good actually,” she said, twisting a finger through her hair. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! I’m so glad you received my letter, I was hoping we could catch up, maybe over dinner sometime? I’ve had so many fine young men ask me out over the last few months, but none of them seemed to compare to you, my little Freddie Bear.”

He winced at the nickname, it bringing an onslaught of unwanted memories that he had desperately tried to forget. Brooklyn bit her lip and placed a hand on top of Fred’s, leaning in to accentuate her breasts and make sure Fred got a good whiff of her new perfume. 

Very calmly, Fred placed his other hand on top of hers, now sandwiched in between his strong grip. “Brooklyn,” he said, faking sympathy, “you’re a lovely girl, and I’m sure any guy would be lucky to have you, but--”

“Hey, love!” 

A voice interrupted Fred’s rejection, making a very surprised Brooklyn become absolutely enraged as she witnessed you come up and place a chaste kiss on Fred’s lips, smiling into him. Fred pulled his hands from Brooklyn’s grip and placed it instead on your hip, pulling you into him and placing another peck on your forehead. You both stared lovingly into each other’s eyes before a harsh cough stole your attention. 

“And who is this?” Brooklyn asked, arms crossed angrily. She was glaring daggers at you, not even trying to fake sweetness for Fred’s sake. 

Keeping his hand on your waist, Fred turned back to the girl who seemed as though she was about to explode. “That’s what I was trying to tell you Brooklyn,” he said, trying to keep his smile as pitiful as he could without it drawing suspicion. “This is Y/N, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

You nuzzled into Fred’s chest for half a second before reaching a hand out to Brooklyn. “It’s so nice to meet you! Brooklyn, was it? I don’t think Fred’s ever mentioned you before, are you one of his childhood friends. Cousin, maybe?”

That had done it and you and Fred both knew it. He subtly fist bumped you under the counter as you watched the girl’s face become redder than Fred’s hair. 

She opened her mouth before taking a huge breath and stepping back. “No, actually,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m his ex-girlfriend. I left him to move on to much better things. Speaking of which--” she flipped her hair and smoothed out her skirt, straightening her posture to try to keep what little dignity she had left, “--I actually have a date. With a dragon trainer no less, and a very renowned one.”

“Oh really?” Fred asked. “That’s amazing. My brother, Charlie, is a dragon trainer as well, and he’s very well known in the community. May I ask the name of the lucky young man? Maybe Charlie knows him.”

Caught very off guard, Brooklyn rolled her eyes and turned to face the door. “That’s none of your business. I better be going, before we’re late to dinner at a very nice place, somewhere the likes of you most likely couldn’t afford.”

You felt Fred stiffen next to you and you squeezed his hand gently. “Have a nice time! It was lovely to meet you Bridget.”

“It’s Brooklyn,” she seethed. 

“Oh right, silly me,” you said, shaking your head. “Bye!”

As Brooklyn sauntered out of the store, you turned to Fred and whispered seductively, just loud enough for the exiting girl to hear. “How about we have a nice night in tonight? I got something the other day that I’d love for you to see. Maybe after seeing it you’ll make me scream even louder than last night.” Fred’s face began to grow red and he had to discreetly adjust his pants, hoping you didn’t notice exactly what your words were doing to him. 

Brooklyn slammed the door and practically ran down the cobbled streets, only screaming when she thought she was far enough away to not be heard. You and Fred both waited a few seconds before cheering and hugging each other, him patting you on the back for a great performance. 

“Y/N! That was incredible! I knew I could count on you.”

“Yeah yeah,” you said, “I’m amazing, I know.” You smiled up at him completing the high five he was waiting on. “When you told me you needed help with a crazy ex I didn’t know you  meant like actually crazy. She’s insane! How did you put up with her for so long?”

Fred shrugged, jumping up onto the counter. “She was hot and I was horny. Not much else to it.”

You rolled your eyes, jumping up to join him. A few days ago you wouldn’t have been nearly comfortable enough to lounge out on the shop’s counters like you were now, but that was before you were a permanent resident of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Before you and Fred had made the deal. 

“You want me to do what?”

“Please, Y/N, it would only be for a little while until this all dies down, I swear!”

You groaned and rubbed your temple, wondering how in the world a friendly visit to your friend’s shop would turn into something with much more commitment. 

“You’re telling me that you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Why on earth would you need that?”

You were pacing around the shop, trying to avoid customers as to not involve them in this very personal conversation. Fred followed you, pleading for you to help him like the great friend you were. 

“I told you,” he said, “after The Daily Prophet did that expo on the shop and made me and George out to be rich sexy businessmen, and I mean where’s the lie, all of my crazy exes have been sending me letters and trying to get back with me. I can’t stand it, there’s so many!”

“Yeah, you were never one for long-term relationships, were you?”

Fred hmphed but quickly picked up with his pleading once again. “You don’t understand, Y/N, it’s absolutely unbearable. It’s common knowledge that George and Angie have been going steady for years now, so he’s got pretty much no one after him. But me? I can’t handle it.”

He dramatically threw himself on one of the empty product tables, causing a couple kids to glance in your direction before quickly becoming distracted by one of the exploding jokes across the shop. 

“Oh, woe is me, I have too many beautiful women throwing themselves at me, whatever am I to do?” you mocked, earning a nasty glare from your friend. 

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t of upmost importance,” he said, straightening his tie and assuming a more business-like manner. “Those girls are crazy. Hot, yes, but crazy. And all you have to do is pretend to be dating me for a few weeks, a month at best! What do you say?”

“And what do I get out of this?” you asked. Usually, you’d never say no to helping a friend, especially Fred, but pretending to date him and having him practically use you to make other girls mad? You didn’t like the idea in the slightest. Well, maybe seeing the mad girls would be a bonus. You never cared much for most of the girls Fred went out with. 

Fred’s face turned into an upward grin as he rolled his sleeves up and leaned forward. “I was hoping you’d say that. I hear that you’re looking for a place to stay, is that right?”

You nodded hesitantly, having an idea of where he was going. 

“Well,” he said, pacing back and forth, “to keep up this charade we’ll need to convince everyone, including George and Angelina. You see, Angie’s friends with Alicia, one of the girls who’s been constantly OWLing me, and if she knew this was fake then she’d blow our cover for sure. Which means…”

You gulped. 

“You’d have the pleasure of sharing the loft with me. You’d get a room, shared with me, and a nice living space all rent-free, and all you have to do is act all lovey-dovey and occasionally snog me. That sounds like an offer you can’t refuse.”

Unfortunately, he was right. You were tight on money at the moment and really had no other options. It was a deal you had to make if you wanted to stay afloat, no matter how much annoyance and embarrassment it would cost you. 

Sighing, you let your shoulders slump, a sign of defeat. “You do know how to negotiate, don’t you?”

“Well I am a businessman.” Fred stuck out his hand, and with a slow, drawn out motion, you shook it. 

It was the 4th night of living with the Weasley twins, or maybe 5th? The nights all seemed to blend together as you’d been having more fun than you had since Hogwarts. George and Angelina didn’t seem surprised at all when you and Fred told them your made up story about how you and Fred started seeing each other. In fact, they both said they always knew it would happen. You and Fred shared a laugh about that in bed that night, before he decided to take up all of the space on the small piece of furniture, prompting you to write your third rule. 

Overall, it had been a great experience. Couples game night, movie marathons, gossip sessions with Angelina about you and Fred’s sex life (which you didn’t have to fabricate too much, you already knew too much from the incredible amounts of detail he used to provide about his dates with other girls). It was like being thrown back into a dorm room, and your old teenage self was starting to shine through again. 

You stared at yourself in Fred’s bathroom mirror, very proud of how you handled Brooklyn earlier that day. She was one of the few girlfriends of Fred’s you never got to meet, probably because they only dated for a short period of time before she left him for the first rich snob to bat an eye at her. Out of everyone you could think of that he dated, she was by far the worst, which meant the next few days would probably be more difficult. It was easy making that bitch angry with smoke coming from her ears, but you didn’t know how good you’d feel about lying to someone a lot nicer than she was. 

After brushing your teeth and donning your pajamas, your Hogwarts house colors of course, you crawled into bed and joined Fred, who was reading one of the novels you had recommended to him. “You like it so far?” you asked. 

Fred took off his reading glasses and nodded, setting a bookmark in the book before placing it on his nightstand. “Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t think it would be my thing, but so far it’s actually really good.”

“Told ya,” you said as you laid down beside him. You and Fred were comfortable enough to share a bed with few problems except for his stupid long legs. You’d been friends for years and had grown way too comfortable with each other, so squeezing together each night wasn’t too out of the ordinary. 

As you snuggled into the covers, Fred following suit, you mentally went over the schedule for the week. 

“How many girls are there again?” 

Fred paused for a moment, trying to remember what he had sent to each girl. “A few I was able to ward off via letter, the more sane ones, but there are still two more girls who insisted they pay me a visit. Addison’s coming tomorrow and Alicia the day after that.”

You nodded, although you ducted Fred could see it from his position. “Got it. Addison’s sweet, I liked her.”

Fred scoffed, wrapping an arm around your waist as he had started doing while you two slept. It was nothing more than platonic, Fred was just a touchy person. You told yourself he would do this with any semi-attractive girl laying in his bed. 

“Yeah, sweet girl all right, until you come home to your entire apartment torn apart cuz she thought you were cheating on her because apparently you ‘took an extra 12 minutes of lunch break and it seemed awfully suspicious.’”

Your body reverberated with a small giggle, remembering how Fred had to crash with you at your old place while he was trying to replace all the furniture she had literally torn up. “That’s right, she’s almost as crazy as I am.”

“Almost.”

You wouldn’t have a hard time lying to Addison, you decided. It was actually kind of fun when you did it with Brooklyn. You could get really creative with this one. 

You released a deep breath and closed your eyes, nestling back into Fred as he spooned you, claiming it was the only way he wouldn’t sprawl out and kick you in your sleep, which you knew was a lie. He’d find a way to kick you somehow. The git always did. 

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

“That was surprisingly better than expected!”

You nodded gleefully, handing Fred a scone and coffee that you had picked up from a nearby bakery. Scaring off Addison had been even more fun than Brooklyn, you and Fred really getting into character and being as lovey dovey as possible. She seemed to take it well, but you wouldn’t be surprised if she triggered the security system tonight trying to break in and destroy the shop. 

“And if I’m being honest it was actually kind of fun,” you told him, settling in behind the counter. 

You raised your muffin to your mouth to take a bite but Fred’s huge mouth snagged a taste before you could, bending down and taking a chunk out before you could have any. “That’s disgusting,” but you had no disgust lingering in your tone. 

“I agree,” he said through mouthfuls of muffin. “It was an excellent way to spend the morning. Bloody hell she would not leave!”

“At least she was nice about it.”

Fred reluctantly agreed before making another move to your muffin, one that this time you anticipated and you swatted his nose with a nearby newspaper. “You have your own, you greedy pig.”

He yanked the paper from your hand, using it as a napkin before the front page caught his eye. He quickly crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a nearby waste bin, something you wouldn’t have been suspicious of had he not done it so nervously. 

“Fred, what’s in the paper today?”

He shifted to put himself in between you and the wastebin, his tall figure looming over you. “Not important, just more junk that no one cares about.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. “Frederick Weasley you move this instant.” You tried pushing him out of the way but it was like moving an annoying ginger stone wall. Trying another approach, you darted to the left before doubling back and running right, but before you made it two steps he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Fred!”

You wiggled with all your might and finally made it out of his grasp, snatching the paper and unfolding it to read the headline. 

Diagon Alley Playboy Finally Settling Down? Or Is Y/N L/N Just Another of Fred Weasley’s One Night Stands?

The color drained from your face and you slowly lowered the paper, reading the front page again and again. Attached was a blurry picture of you and Fred from the day before with you tucked into the side. The buggers at The Daily Prophet must’ve caught it through the store window. 

“I’m sorry,” Fred said softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I tried to keep things quiet, but I guess the press always finds a way in.”

You rubbed your temple slowly, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach. After seeing Harry Potter be brutally torn apart by the press for years, the last thing you wanted was rumors about you going around. 

"We could have prevented this!” you exclaimed, slamming the paper onto the desk. “This is complete bullshit. We’re not even dating! I swear I’m going to march straight to their office and--”

“Don’t bother,” Fred said, completely exasperated by the constant coverage of his family. “It does absolutely nothing, trust me. As a close relative to a professional Quidditch player, The Chosen One himself, and his two best friends who literally saved the world, we’ve learned that nothing will keep them away. Especially since they pinned me as the player of the Weasley family.”

“But you’re not!” you said, getting angrier by the second. “So your relationships don’t last long, so what? You’re not some womanizing piece of shit that the papers say you are!”

Chuckling, Fred replied. “I know that, and you know that. But the rest of the world wants drama, so if they want to think I have a new girl in my bed every night I’ll let them.” He shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Well you shouldn’t have to,” you grumbled. “You’re one of the best people I know, and the world should know it too.”

Catching you off guard, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your torso and a head lay on your shoulder. “It’s ok, love, just one more day and then you can stay out of the papers forever, I promise.”

Sighing, you turned to face him and let a small smile shine through. “Thanks. But I still think it’s absolute rubbish what they’re doing to your character.”

“Me too, but at least you know what a charming and caring gentleman I am and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Aww,” you coed, “you love me don’t you?”

“Shh, don’t let the press hear! It’ll ruin the image they worked so hard to create.”

You hit your head against Fred’s chest. “Only one more day of this. One more to go.”

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

“Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

“What?” You were so busy trying to find something to wear that you had barely heard what Fred said. 

“Last night, when you fell asleep. You said something funny.” He was sitting on the bed, adjusting his work tie and pulling on his socks and shoes. He looked...confused. Like he was trying to solve a complicated problem and he just couldn’t git the pieces together. 

“Oh?” you said, growing nervous. Had you dreamt last night? You were racking your brain, hoping you hadn’t said something embarrassing. 

You definitely had a dream, and Fred was there. You were at the shop...and Alicia came in! And…

“You were saying ‘Alicia, no, Fred’s mine not yours, I love Fred,” and umm, other stuff like that.” His face was heating up by the second, as was yours. 

“Really?” you said through awkward laughs. “Must’ve been preparing for today, huh?”

Fred said nothing, instead choosing to focus on retying his shoes. 

“Well,” you said, finally picking out your outfit, “I’m going to change, I’ll meet you down there later, ok?”

He nodded, still confused, and you rushed to use his bathroom before things could get more awkward. 

You decided to take a nice, long shower to cool down, hoping that you could somehow wash away the embarrassment. So maybe you had a slight crush on Fred. Who could blame you? You’d been spending the last week cuddled up with him and spending so much time at the shop, not to mention acting like a couple in front of everyone. Who wouldn’t develop feelings?

But for some weird reason you had a feeling that this wasn’t a recent crush, rather something that’s been lurking right beneath the surface for a while. You groaned, hitting your head against the shower wall. This was not the time for this. You had a job to do, and Alicia would be here in 30 minutes so you had to hurry up. 

Scampering down the steps 15 minutes later after using a drying spell and getting dressed, you stopped in your tracks when you saw what was happening across the shop. Alicia was here early. 

From the looks of it, she had already made herself comfortable, leaning in to talk to Fred, who wasn’t doing anything to discourage the behavior. Instead, he was leaning in as well, laughing at a joke she just made. 

Fury burned inside you as you watched the scene unfold. You knew from the beginning that Alicia would be the hardest ex to deal with. Not only had she been Fred’s longest and most intimate relationship to date, but she was also a really nice person, meaning you had no reason to hate her. But at this moment you did. 

Alicia leaned closer, her nose almost touching Fred. What should you do? Did he want your help getting rid of her? Was he still harboring feelings and actually looking to reconnect? You saw him slowly lean in toward her, which you took as a sign to continue with your plan. 

You were almost running when you reached Fred, who turned and seemed happy to see you. “Just in time,” he said the Alicia, “Alicia, you remember--”

You cut him off with a kiss, the third kiss you’d promised him. Except this one wasn’t one of the pecks you described on your terms and conditions. You pulled Fred down into one of if not the most passionate kiss you’d ever had, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. 

Almost immediately he pulled off of you, looking more bewildered than you had ever seen him. “I…”

“Well that was quite the spectacle.”

You looked over to where Alicia was standing, smirking at the two of you. Contrary to what you had expected, she actually seemed rather calm and actually amused at what she had just seen. 

“S-sorry,” you said. Fred tried to say something but he was too dumbstruck to even get a word out. He just stood there, eyes wide and mouth twitching. 

“Is this a bad time?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be meeting my fiancé for breakfast later so I can just come back another time if that works for you.”

“Your...fiancé?”

“Yeah!” Alicia beamed as she showed you her left hand, her ring finger adorned with the most beautiful engagement ring you’d ever seen. “Actually, the reason I’m here is because I just asked Fred if he wanted to be in the wedding as a groomsman. Or bridesmaid. Whatever works for him. Thankfully the big oaf said yes before you laid that on him, or else I think I’d be waiting a lot longer for an answer.”

Fred was still as frozen as ever, making you and Alicia chuckle. “Hey, it’s been forever since we’ve caught up, how about you and Fred go on a double date with me and Lee sometime?”

It took you a second to understand why Lee would be there, until it dawned on you. “You’re marrying Lee Jordan?!”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter at this, loving to see your reaction. “That I am! You’re obviously invited, I’m sending invitations out soon. I’ll hope to see you there, and don’t be afraid to reach out, alright?”

“Y-yeah, will do,” you said. Alicia looked up at Fred and then to you and winked, before waving goodbye and leaving the shop. 

You refused to make eye contact with Fred, too embarrassed to even begin to talk to him. Maybe you’d just take 5 and take a walk down the street? That would help distract your brain from whatever just happened. 

“Real?”

You turned around to the source of the voice, a now more interactive Fred. “What?”

“Real,” he repeated. He shook his head a few times, blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I just mean, that kiss was umm, it was real.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. The fact that you had kissed Fred, and an actual kiss at that, was finally hitting you. “Yeah, it was real, I guess.”

He took a step closer, his face assuming the puzzled look from the bedroom earlier. “Was...was what you said real too? From the dream, I mean?”

Now it was you who was frozen, feet stuck to the ground with no way out. What should you say? Confess your feelings and hope for the best? Or deny everything and try to work your way around this mess? You didn’t have time to think nor ration. Just act. 

“Yeah. It was real.”

Fred nodded, pursing his lips and shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Cool.” He hesitated. “Would it be super crazy out of the blue if I asked you to maybe go out with me sometime. For real?”

A smile rose to your face, hoping that this wasn’t a joke. Slowly, almost shyly, you nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little crazy. But I’d say yes.”

Fred smiled too, a big toothy grin that only made you smile wider, before pulling you into a side hug. “Good, because you’re a little crazy too, so we’ll match on our date.”

“You’re a big dork,” you said, returning the hug. “What will the paper say when they see you with the same girl? They’ll probably explode!”

“I hope so,” he replied as he gave you a loving squeeze. “What I’m worried about is how we’re supposed to explain to George and Angelina that we’ve been faking this whole time and it’s only now getting real.”

“Eh, that’s a problem for another time. Right now, we’ve got some more pressing matters.” You gestured to the front window where a reporter was holding a huge camera, trying to snap a good picture of the two of you. 

“I’ll handle it, grab me the dungbombs.”

“Yes, sir!”

You ran to assist Fred, head rushing with thoughts of first dates and future ones down the road. Of attending Lee and Alicia’s wedding together and getting completely wasted with each other. Of sleeping together each night, holding each other in an embrace that was now true and deep and caring. In a relationship that was now real. 

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[moonlit-imagines]

The Doctor Is In

Stephen Strange x reader

Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

warnings:

a/n: hey! idk how to build stairs guys. i didnt feel like researching it. i dont care if it’s wrong. leave me alone. part 2/2.

prompt:

Out (1)

There was no hope of Stephen coming back. Every truth you had to face was harsher than the last. Even when you got home and realized that Wong was among the vanished...and he didn’t fix the stairwell.

Maybe the stairwell was a good thing. It gave you something to focus on in these hard times. Sure, it’d been a month since the incident, but that still wasn’t enough time for the world to heal. That meant that contractors were hard to come by. But the roof would have a tarp over it for some time. No way you’d deal with that.

So you took a trip to the hardware store, you stocked up on wood and nails, lacquer and wood stain. Anything else you needed for the project. Anything to keep you busy.

There were so many sleepless nights. You hated being alone in Sanctum, hated being alone in your bed. Every so often you would nap on the couch, but then you’d get right back to work. Weeks on end you spent on the stairwell. How long will you stick around while I talk about the stairwell?

Doctor Banner called you from time to time. His voicemails were kind, heartfelt, but you couldn’t stop now. The gutted stairwell from a couple weeks ago was coming by very nicely. As nice as it could when worked on my an amateur. Alright, it looked awful, but you couldn’t stand using a ladder to get to the second floor.

As you were staining the wood, you played a message from Bruce:

“Doctor L/N, it’s Bruce. I hope you’re doing alright, but you know that if you’re not, I’m here for you. All the remaining Avengers have kind of...gone their separate ways for the most part, they’re pretty broken up about everything. I just want you to know that because you don’t...have to be strong right now. I understand if you can’t be. Just call me back whenever you can? I want to make sure you’re alright. We’re survivors, we should stick together.”

Bruce hadn’t known you long, but he was still a great person and friend. You should call him back, but if you lost focus, you may lose yourself. So you continued to wipe against the grain of the fresh stairs and moved to the next step. And the next. And the next.

The last step was the lacquer and seal. You were scared to finish up. What would you occupy yourself with once this was over? You thought about the answer until the very last step and admired your shabby craftsmanship. It’ll do. Or maybe you should tear it all down and start over? While you were thinking over your newest thought, your phone rang again. Bruce Banner.

“Hey, Bruce.” You answered the phone as you normally would and sat on the floor in front of your work.

“Y/N?” Bruce asked in disbelief. “Y/N, hey! How are you? I don’t know if you’ve been getting my calls..?”

“I have.” You quickly replied.

“Oh.” He quietly nodded to himself.

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You realized your mistake and knew you may have come off as a little rude. He’d been nothing but kind to you, but you’d just realized you were alone today.

“No, no! It’s okay! I understand, don’t worry. What have you been up to?” His effort to start a conversation may be successful this time around.

“I fixed the stairwell. All of it. That’s what I’ve been doing the past few weeks. I just finished a few minutes ago.” You felt awkward talking to him. Not because of him, not at all. Just because you hadn’t really had any human contact in a while.

“I didn’t take you for a carpenter, Doctor.” Bruce was genuinely surprised with your skillset, you could hear it in his voice.

“And you still won’t once you see the job I did.” You actually managed to let out a chuckle. You didn’t know you could still do that.

“Oh, I hear ya loud and clear.” Bruce laughed, too. I wonder if he was having the same thoughts as you. “Y/N, do you want to go out to lunch like, now? I could use some company, maybe you could, too.”

“Yeah,” you checked the time on your watch, Stephen’s watch, and realized you worked through the night and day, “text me an address, I’ll meet you anywhere. See you soon.” You hung up pretty quickly, only to get ready ASAP. You were sort of covered in “stair supplies” and smelled like...not good. You’d take a quick shower, put on some clean clothes, and take off. Unfortunately, the stairs weren’t dry, so it was another round up the ladder.

—————

You finally took a trip back to your bedroom and shuffled through the closet filled with your...late husband’s clothing. It still smelled like him, surprisingly. You wondered just how long it would last. You hoped it’d be forever, but you grabbed your own clothes and quickly got dressed, then checked your phone to see that Bruce was running “a little late.” It’s okay, you were, too.

You took a seat on Stephen’s side of the bed and decided to snoop. Did it count as snooping if he was no longer here? You knew that he didn’t keep secrets from you, so what was the worst you could stumble upon? Books, books, and more books. But some were important books, ones detailing mystic arts. Maybe...maybe it was time to pick up a new skill. You stuffed the book in your bag and decided to head out now before you got too comfy in an actual bed.

—————

You and Bruce sat at a booth in the empty diner, awkwardly gazing over the menu while trying to stir up some conversation. It’d been a while since either of you had visited someone, you didn’t even know what to talk about.

“So, home renovations, huh?” Bruce asked while peaking over the fold of the laminated list.

“Something like that.” You sighed and set yours down and aside. “I know what I’m getting. What about you?”

“I just need a minute.” The only noise besides your bland conversation was the rustling of dishes in the back, which didn’t last for long. “Got it. A burger. That’ll do it.” Bruce announced and got the attention of the waiter.

Ordering took a second, but soon you and Bruce were alone again and ready to talk.

“How are the other Avengers? I know you said they went their separate ways, but...” You inquired and were surprised to see a smile crack on Bruce’s face. “What?”

“At least I know you listened to my voicemails.” He chuckled and took a sip of his iced tea. “They’re dealing with it. I don’t exactly know how. Nat’s staying at the compound, I’m sure she’s glad to have a home again. Cap went out on his own. Thor went back to his people. Tony and Pepper are trying to separate themselves from the world, I think. I don’t blame them. That’s all I know.” You stayed silent, but nodded along to his outer thoughts. “You alright?”

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You started. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, leave you hanging. I just still don’t know how to take this. I keep thinking about what Stark told me when he came back. His whole ‘this will all make sense soon’ thing. Nothing about this makes sense to me.”

“Well, Strange was different, wasn’t he? He had that Stone, he had those powers, he might know something we don’t.” Bruce explained to you, an attempt to comfort you. “We’ve tried everything, y/n. Maybe it’s time to wait, maybe in time you’ll see that he sacrificed himself...for you.” You teared up at the scientist’s words and quickly wiped your eyes as the food was placed before you. “Thank you, sir.” Bruce said as the waiter walked off. “Hey, y/n? It’s okay that you’re hurting. I get it. But please don’t act like you’re alone. I’m gonna be here for you, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled while hiding your wet eyes, “Me, too, Bruce.”

—————

When you got stressed out when you were younger, you threw yourself into your studies. Maybe that was why you were such an accomplished scientist. But what studies did you have now?

You had a library full of knowledge. It wasn’t your usual knowledge, but it would suffice. Now, the book that you’d snagged from Stephen’s bedside was a bit advanced for you, but that was okay. You had options.

Where would you even begin? This place was bigger than you remembered. Was this another spell? Did you know what you were talking about? Stop thinking, y/n. Start reading.

You picked out a book. You just ran with it. You recalled stories from Stephen. You remembered you needed the ring. What did he call it? Song ring? Sink ring? Slink ring?

Sling ring.

Not a problem, you could find one. Sanctum probably had tons. Maybe in Stephen’s study? You wished you had asked him more about his arts before, you just didn’t get it at the time.

One was stashed in a drawer. It was Stephen’s ring. The one he used himself. And it was the only one you could find, so it’d have to do. And so you got to studying.

The first time the air sparked by your hand was magical. Literally. But it made you feel something for the first time in nearly three months. And that was just the beginning. It felt like you were carrying on Stephen’s legacy in a way. You’d never be “Sorcerer Supreme,” but you didn’t have any intention of that. You just wanted his memory to live on, even if it were through you.

So you’d practice and you’d learn and you’d practice and you’d learn. You’d see Bruce whenever you could, and he soon noticed your mood change.

“I’m glad to see you happy for a change.” He told you while you walked through the park.

“Yeah, it feels great.” You told him while watching construction vehicles cleaning up the debris that had been lying around for months.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s with the ring?” He looked at your hand and you lifted it closer.

“Oh...it’s Stephen’s.” You simply stated.

“Is it like a wedding ring?” He took a closer look and let you laugh it up for a quick second.

“No, no!” You shook your head at the ridiculous question. “I might as well show you. I haven’t told anyone yet, but that’s because you’re the only person I talk to.” You stopped in your tracks and shooed him back to give yourself enough space. “Ready?” Bruce looked terrified, but nodded a response and watched you raise your hands ahead, concentrating on the small portal you had began to open. Bruce recognized the opening since he’d fallen through it before.

“You’re one of the sorcerers?” Bruce’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I just started learning!” You exclaimed with a bright smile. “I needed something to get me through this all...and I wanted to protect Sanctum like Stephen and Wong had always stressed doing.”

“That’s...amazing, y/n. Self-taught magic? By a scientist, no less. Look at you go!” Bruce had a knack for being supportive. You were glad that he crashed through your roof and into your stairs.

“Thanks, Bruce. Maybe in time I’ll be able to cast a spell that fixes my roof.” You shrugged.

“Oh? Come on! I said I was sorry!”

—————

And then five years went by. Flew by, actually. You’d become a skilled sorcerer and used your skills around Sanctum. There wasn’t much to do here on Earth. It was a bit quiet.

Bruce was still a close friend of yours! You’d advised him in his quest for balance. He was no longer at war with himself.

The roof was fixed! You had Bruce spectate your very own spell to repair the damages he’d inflicted, but all was forgiven.

Then one normal day you got a call from him.

“Hey Bruce! How’s it going?” You answered, even though it interrupted your meditation.

“Can you meet me at the diner ASAP?” He sounded a little off, but still upbeat, so you opened a portal and stepped through to find yourself right out front. It was easy to spot him through the window, but there were others with him. Avengers.

“Hey, all.” You took a seat beside an unfamiliar one. “Hi, I’m y/n.” You told him as a plate of food was set in front of you.

“I ordered you your favorite. Hope you’re hungry.” Bruce smirked at you and let you get to it.

“So, it’s been a while, huh?” You asked the two Avengers across from you.

“It has.” Natasha sighed. “I wasn’t aware you were...also a sorcerer.” She began.

“I had a lot of free time.” Last they saw you, you weren’t as cool, calm, or collected. They were glad that you’d found peace. “I have a feeling this isn’t a social lunch.”

“I’m sorry to pull you from your calm, Doctor L/N—” You cut Steve off.

“Y/N is fine.” You replied.

“Scott here,” Steve motioned to the awkward man sitting alongside you, “was stuck in the Quantum Realm for some time, if you’re familiar. He thinks that there’s a way to...to undo what Thanos did.” You peered over at Bruce and watched him shrug as your heart started to beat faster and stomach started doing turns. You hated the thought of getting your hopes up, but you still dearly missed your husband.

“What can I do?”

—————

You had a hand in opening the dozens of portals around the ruins of the Avengers Compound, but you weren’t the only one. Stephen, Wong, and hundreds of other sorcerers were assisting to bring an army to combat the troops of an outdated Thanos, and you were so close to Stephen.

Using your magic to create a pathway to the sky, you leaped from step to step to get a clear look of the battlefield. And to let Stephen see you. He did. And so did the cloak.

You’d never used your powers to fight, so you’d have to step it up out here. But you knew Stephen wouldn’t let you get hurt. And you believed that you could handle this yourself.

“Y/N!” Stephen called to you as he flew to your altitude and held you in a special embrace that you’d nearly forgotten the feeling of. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Are you kidding me, Stephen?” You chuckled through tears that you just couldn’t hold in, tears that dragged through the dirt and dust on your face, clearing small lines down your cheeks. “I have missed you every day since the moment you left. I am so glad to have you back.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, y/n. I truly am. But I knew that you would manage without me. You always have.” He explained to you in such a heartfelt way, admiring your capability to still be standing in the air.

“You knew I’d become a sorcerer, didn’t you?” You cocked a brow and watched him smirk.

“I had an inkling.” He joked with you as the firefight below was still rampaging.

“It’s very unprofessional of you to be talking to your s/o during times of crisis like this.” You chuckled and broke your spell to fall back to the ground, stopping yourself before it was too late in what could only be described as a “superhero landing.” Now that you were on the ground, assistance was required for your own side of the battle.

You and your fellow sorcerers had to defend more than anything. Shields popped up across the battlefield in an effort to keep your people alive. There were too many close calls and you wanted to survive long enough to go home with your husband.

“Y/N, over here!” Stephen beckoned you to the flood that would have made this fight much harder, and you were delighted to defend alongside him. The cloak rushed to you and gave you a fast track to the edge of the water, you couldn’t help but that it for it’s kind service. “Ready?”

“Of course.” You lifted your palms and motioned towards that water, redirecting it and keeping it at bay for the time being. “I love you, Stephen.” You remembered to tell him.

“I love you, too, y/n.” He replied with his focus still on the flood. “And I’m proud of you. So very proud.”

“Couldn’t have done it with you.” You joked and stabilized the rushing waters, giving you a true load-off before the end was clear. Dust passed through the sunken hole you all stood inside. Dust of your enemies that had finally lost. You and Stephen stared at each other in disbelief, yet couldn’t help but run into each other’s arms. “This is real? We won?”

“In a way.”

—————

Stephen and you dressed in all black were standing in the back yard of your savior. Tony had given his life to give others a life. You were just sorry that it had to be him.

Bruce stood alongside you with a long face and an injured arm. It was time for you to be there for him like he’d been there for you.

“Thanks for bringing back my husband, Bruce.” You whispered to him while holding Stephen’s hand tightly. Over the past few days, you just couldn’t seem to let go of him.

“Oh, yeah? That was nothing.” Bruce playfully answered through his sorrow.

“How’s your arm feeling?” You asked him, making sure the sling wasn’t twisted up an any way.

“Not the greatest, but I’ll be okay.” He assured you and watched as you leaned your head onto Stephen’s smile with a sense of relief. “I’m really happy for you, y/n...”

“But?” You raised an eyebrow with a hint of worry.

“But you better still hang out with me.” He smiled at you and you even heard a chuckle escape Stephen’s lips.

“You can count on it, Bruce.” You lifted a hand for a fist bump and collided your knuckles with his, even if they were a bit oversized.

“Shall we get going, dear?” Stephen asked you while he hooked his arm around yours and opened a portal home. You waved goodbye to Bruce and went on your way, stepping right into Sanctum as the way closed behind you.

“So you really meant it, huh?” You asked your husband while setting your belongings down.

“That I love what you’ve done with the place?” Stephen laughed at your oncoming smirk and walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you forward to kiss the top of your head. “Of course, dear.”

“Even the stairs?” You peeked your head up to look at your husband and watched his smile grow. You’d never bothered casting a spell to properly repair them. Maybe you were just too proud of your work. Maybe it was a reminder that you got through these five years on your own terms.

“I do.” He leaned down to kiss your lips. “It adds character to this place.”

“More character than the magic?” You prodded at him.

“I think you mean ‘sorcery.’” He corrected as you leaned into his chest and slightly swayed back and forth, taking in his presence for the 50th time since he’d come home.

“Oh, of course. Silly me.”

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[jmoriarty-221b]

Ok so this idea was inspired by AUs where Tim Drake is a member of the Addams family and thus this cute idea was born

Ok so, Tim’s parents still travel a lot but instead of leaving him alone in a big empty manor they leave him with his aunt and uncle Morticia and Gomez Addams

And Tim is a weird little kid who grows up without fear of the dark figures at night because the boogeyman is actually a pretty nice fellow who was very touched when Tiny Tim gave them a drawing of themselves, the monster in the closet actually gives great fashion advice as well as providing the perfect clothes for playing dress up, and the monsters under his bed are great storytellers and the shadow man gives Tim great advice on how to hide and use shadows to his advantage, etc.

The point is that Timmy grows up under the care of the Addams when his parents have to leave on long business trips or excavation sites and as such, is exposed to Gomez’s great appreciation of swordsmanship and fencing, and the haunted suits of armors are always great at comparing which kind of swords are the best in which kind of combat as well as the the importance of craftsmanship when in relation to having a reliable sword

And then one day Timmy watches the movie ‘The Legend of Zorro’ and becomes absolutely obsessed with learning how to use a sword and fight with it in the way only little kids can become obsessed with something they find completely cool, and Gomez is so excited to be teaching Tim everything he knows and they work together to craft Timmy his very own mini rapier for learning how to fence (swords are heavier so Tim learns those from Gomez when he’s older and can parry more weight)

And Tim becomes very Focused and Serious on learning how to fence and he’s very excited when he manages to finally best his uncle in a fencing duel (not as excited as Gomez tho, “MY CHILD SHALL BECOME THE BEST SWORDSMAN YET MY LOVE, DID YOU SEE HIS TECHNIQUE, HAD I BEEN SLOWER HE WOULD’VE RIPPED OPEN MY THROAT IN ONE SWIPE, I’M SO PROUD” “Our child dear”)

And then the movie ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ comes out and both Tim and Gomez are super fans (as a whole the family’s favorite movies are this one as well as the Legend of Zorro because 1. Revenge is achieved to the improvement of the main character’s well being and 2. The Aesthetic) and Tim just focuses on getting the hang of swords now with Gomez being more than happy to help his darling nephew

So years pass and Tim’s parents have finished one of their most taxing excavation digs so they return to Gotham and Tim has to return too (for the purposes of this AU Janet and Jack actually do give a fuck about their son so they would call him every other night when they’re away and if they can’t then at the very least they would call Tim once a week; they also call Morticia and Gomez at least once a week to check on how Tim is doing and they were also very happy to know that Tim has taken a liking to swords so they try to bring new types of weapons or literature related to weapons from the culture of their latest excavation so Tim can learn how different types of swords are wielded all around the world)

But anyway, Tim is going back to Gotham so he and Gomez work on creating a new sword for him with the family motto carved on the blade “Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc” which translates to “We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would Subdue Us” which is metal as fuck so yeah, and this sword is super durable and strong, inspired by a katana’s durability and a rapier’s gracefulness with a blade that is such a dark purple that it looks black like obsidian and the inscription of the family motto is carved in letters that are ruby red with a black hilt where an image of a drake is engraved in the same ruby red as the family motto (basically it is a Very Deadly Sword that is also Very Pretty with a dark aesthetic)

So Tim gets back to Gotham and one day he’s watching the news and sees The Batman saving the day and what not and sees Robin do a quadruple back flip and figures out their identities and decides that he wants to meet them at some point while on his nightly photography sessions of Gotham architecture; and if he manages to snap a couple of shots of Gotham’s heroes sometimes then that’s a bonus but Tim is mostly focused on capturing the essence of Gotham city (at this point in time when Tim moves back to Gotham he physically looks like 10-12 year old; he did meet Dick at the circus when he looked like he was 4 years old but for the purposes of the timeline Tim, as an Addams, can choose to remain at any age he desires for as long as he wants so while he did appear to be 4 years old at the circus, he had been alive for a couple of years more at this point, this also explains how he can master swords and fencing while physically looking like a 10 year old because he has been practicing for years as well as why he remembers Dick from that night at the circus)

So the timeline continues with Tim figuring out that the Bats are actually his neighbors but instead of staying away from the Waynes, he decides to go ask his parents if he can stay with the neighbors whenever they have to stay later than usual at the company or have to take a short business travel and they talk with Bruce about it and he agrees to take care of Tim, so now Tim has an in to befriend the Waynes and helps smooth out the edges of Dick and Bruce’s relationship so Bruce doesn’t fire Dick from Robin, but rather they talk about their feelings for once and Dick decides he wants to create his own superhero identity and Bruce supports his decision (Tim may or may not have had to talk about how his family happened to be very open about their feelings and worry for one another and how much closer they are due to talking to each other and resolving conflict; Alfred may or may not have been 100% behind Tim every time he made such a conversation) also, Tim is basically a trial run for Dick on becoming a big brother for when Jason arrives

One time Tim asks Dick if he knows how to fence which Dick can’t really answer because technically he knows how to fight with a sword but that’s for vigilante purposes which his civilian self isn’t supposed to know so Dick says that he doesn’t and asks Tim why he wanted to know, Tim proceeds to talk about how his favorite masked hero uses a sword to fight injustice and he has a black cape and a black horse and Bruce comes into the living room they’re in in the middle of Tim’s rambling about his favorite hero using a sword and is Concerned for a hot minute until Tim finishes the rant by saying “. . . and that’s why I like his movie so much, have you seen the Legend of Zorro?” (Cue relief for both Dick and Bruce because for all that they scrambled to put a name to the hero Tim was describing they couldn’t come up with one and were considering the possibility of a new player in the vigilante scene) so then Tim asks Mr. Bruce if he knows how to fence and Bruce says yes and asks if Tim would like to learn cue the “Oh, my uncle taught me how to fence a few years ago and when I lived with them we had a duel at least once a week, it was very fun so I was just wondering if you knew so we could practice if you want to Mr. Bruce”

Dick is 100% on board with this because the idea of Tiny Tim and 6’1” Bruce fencing is hilarious in his mind, Alfred is there to supervise and both Tim and Bruce are provided with the appropriate fencing equipment and protection; Bruce starts off slow and is surprised when Tim manages to beat him before starting to enjoy fencing with someone who can surprisingly keep up with him (Dick is taking pictures because the height difference is just too cute to be ignored and Tiny Tim is adorable in his own mini fencing equipment)

Whenever his parents do have to leave for extended periods of time (any company trip that takes more than 3-5 days qualifies as this) Tim stays with his aunt and uncle, thus starting a fun tradition of having spontaneous fencing duels with his uncle Gomez, basically if one of them is in the library then the other will shout ‘En-garde’ while throwing a sabre towards the other person and engaging in a quick duel; basically, if Tim is reading about the latest poisonous plants produced by Poison Ivy and annotating his research in order to get an idea of what would be a nice gift for his aunt Morticia and Gomez walks into the library then Gomez will grab two of the sabres they have on the wall for this exact purpose while shouting ‘en-garde’ before throwing a sabre at Tim and engaging in a duel, same goes for Tim, it’s almost instinct to the point that Tim has to hold himself back from doing exactly this whenever he sees Bruce in the library of Wayne Manor

Later on, when Jason is already adopted into the Wayne family, Tim still comes over and makes it his sacred mission to teach Jason the art of swords so he has another fencing buddy because “Mr. Bruce isn’t always here and I have decided that we will be friends and you’re pretty cool but knowing how to fight with a sword just ups your coolness level ya know?” So now Jason has smol Tim teaching him how to fence and it’s pretty fun to be able to do a taxing physical activity outside of being Robin with a friend, when Jason gets the hang of fencing Tim decides that he must now advance to the next level: sword fighting (Alfred is always there to supervise and give tips and pointers because he also knows how to fence but chooses to stay in the sidelines and let the young masters have their fun)

The problem with this is that, while the Waynes do have sabres for fencing, they don’t have swords, at least not in their civilian selves, so Tim decides to bring his own swords to teach Jason how to sword fight, Alfred is the first to see Tim’s very own special sword and is both impressed at the craftsmanship and concerned as to why a child has a sword, Jason thinks Tim’s sword is the coolest he has ever seen and Tim is happy to talk about how he made it himself with his uncle’s help when he finally learned all about sword fighting and promises Jason that they can make him his own cool sword when he learns how to sword fight too, Dick also thinks that the sword is a little concerning for a kid to have but he also wants his own cool sword and so now he insists Bruce has to teach him how to sword fight because Tim said he’s not allowed to have his own sword until he learns how to sword fight, Bruce is baffled as to why Tim has a sword, impressed at Tim’s skills in craftsmanship, and a little Concerned as to why Tim’s sword has that Latin inscription on the blade (no Tim, knowing that “we feast in those who would subdue us” is your family motto doesn’t calm me down yet it explains a lot about your mother)

By the time Damian comes along to the family he is very interested in where Jason and Dick got their Very Cool swords from, his father also has one and he wants to have his own Very Cool Sword too, thank you very much, and Tim visits them when Damian is still settling in and asks his customary question of if he knows how to use fence and gets an affirmative answer he asks Bruce if it would be ok for him and Damian to have a fencing duel, Bruce explains the rules to Damian and makes sure that Alfred, Dick, Jason and him are present in order to keep Damian from maiming/killing Tim

The duel does get a little out of hand as Damian gauges that Tim is more skilled than he previously thought so he stops holding back, Tim is positively grinning at this since he always has to hold back with the Waynes in a way that he doesn’t with Uncle Gomez because while an Addams won’t die from a stab to the heart, the same can’t be said for anyone else; the duel ends with Tim winning because he has more experience than Damian but he is positive beaming at how awesome Damian was and how these duels could become a weekly thing before they transition to swords and once Dames graduates from swords he can design his very own sword with Tim’s help as a sort of graduation present for learning how to sword fight and he’s sure that it won’t take too long for Damian to master swordsmanship because he’s basically a natural already and very skilled and this duel was so much fun Damian we have to do this again sometime oh my gosh I want to teach you everything I know it’s gonna be so much fun

And Damian, a poor baby, was mad at having lost to Tim but then Tim hits him with all this excitement and smiles and it’s the promise of getting his own Very Cool Sword is what gets him to agree to learn from Tim, it’s not that he feels warm at getting compliments from someone who also likes swords and knows what he’s doing in a fight, he definitely doesn’t find Tim cool at all, he’s just making use of a resource and he will learn everything Tim has to offer and become better than both Grayson and Todd, that’s all (that’s not all because it turns out that Damian is the younger brother Tim never had and he takes Dami under his wing and helps him adjust to a life outside the League of Assassins and how to find hobbies to enjoy; Damian won’t admit it but he is also Very Attached in to Timothy and feels like he won’t be judged for his past with him and he is also a fellow sword enthusiast so yeah)

Tim decides to do the same thing to Damian and initiating a quick fencing duel whenever he sees that Damian is in the gardens (no fencing inside the Manor on pain of Alfred’s eyebrow of disappointment); this helps Damian with the transition of learning to have fun and also learn to realize that not everybody is an enemy, it also helps keep up his training and burn some energy whenever he gets restless and helps him bond with Tim more

The idea was that Tim and Uncle Gomez would surprise each other with spontaneous fencing duels by shouting ‘en-garde’ at the other person whenever they find one another in the library, and now it turned into a fluff AU where Tim isn’t Robin but he’s still a family friend to the Waynes and an Addams and helps bring the family closer through his love of swords because yes

[jaysbestie]

ahshshdhsh this is my first time using the ask function in this app and i might as well take this as an opportunity. can you please write about jakey being a hopeless romantic (kinda like f2l thing) wherein they're also classmates and y/n is oblivious af? it would be very much appreciated, thank you~

hi this is a vERY late, I don't know if this is similarto what you wanted, I'm so sorry, but I hope you like it!!

Hoops and Love Letters

pairing ; f2l! basketball player! jake x gn reader

genre ; fluff

warnings ; food

summary ; jake, your best friend since you were children has started making your heart beat fast, little do you know, his is beating just as fast...

"yo jake!"

you were sitting on one of the park's benches with your best friend while eating strawberry flavored ice cream he got for you, when you heard someone call your best friend's name.

"jake!"

it was louder this time, meaning the person calling him was coming closer. Suddenly one of jake's friends, sunghoon, came into view trying to catch his breath while he sat down on the bench between you.

well now that was awkward.

he looked between you two, clueless to the situation you were in and asked,

"did I interrupt anything?"

he asked and to that question, your cheeks reddened as you turned to look at jake, noticing how his cheeks were also light crimson as he opened his mouth to answer his friend's question

"n-no you sure didn't" jake stammered. but jake never stammers?? and you just stood there, a little sad that jake answered sunghoon's question negatively and you just stood there, taken aback by jake's answer and by his stammering.

"it doesn't seem like it tho, anyways, heesung needs you in practice, jay was late and he almost got yelled at" sunghoon started talking without getting a breath, almost as if he was rapping.

you searched jake's face for a reaction and he didn't even look surprised by ths situation going on at the school's gym.

"well, y/n, I'll have to go, sadly, however, ill try to return you your book on saturday on our picnic!" he told you while he got his school bag, from the bench you sat on every day after school, and started walking behind sunghoon to the gym.

"I'll be waiting for my book!" you yelled and screamed, happy that he remembered the poetry book he borrowed from you, two weeks ago. you see, your and jake's bond was something unbreakable, being friends and classmates from a very young age and being lucky enough to be able to continue this friendship till now. you started packing your bag and put the cup from the ice cream in the park's trashcan while going to your house. there really wasn't anyone at home however you prepared your table fully and made yourself lunch. you sat down trying to find a boring enough movie so that you'll be motivated to stop watching it and study or catch a nap.

————————♡timeskip♡———————

it was now 7pm on a friday afternoon and you were currently doing your homework so that you didn't have to do them during the weekend, when your computer started alarming you that there was an incoming skype call by jake. it made you instantly smile and you answered his call watching his face brighten once he saw you had picked up.

"hey"

"hi"

"are you doing homework on a friday night?" he asked, while he looked at me as if I was a weird creature.

"yeah, I don't understand your opposition on me doing my homework on a friday night" you said, the fake offended look on your face made jake laugh and that moment it was like you heard an angel laugh.

"have you prepared anything for our picnic tomorrow?"

oh shIT

you panicked

"I swear to god, y/n y/l/n, did you forget about one of the most important days of the month?" it was his turn to act offended now taking a dramatic pose acting as if he was crying.

you were about to start crying because, hoW. COULD. YOU. FORGET. YOUR PICNIC?!?!

"oH HELL NOH, how could I forget our picnic?!" you stated nervously hoping that he didn't notice the panic on your face when he mentioned the picnic.

"great, I was hoping you remembered about it because, well,,, tomorrow's picnic will be extra special, than just a day on the calendar" he said, he seemed nervous and by his sentence you became nervous too, hoping that something joyful will be behind this "extra special picnic"

"YO Y/N YOU THERE?" he yelled and then proceeded to slap his laptop's screen, just to make sure his computer wasn't the problematical one.

"yeah sorry, my laptop started glitching, see you tomorrow at the park!" you yelled at him and ended the call in a hurry.

you sat up from your desk's chair and walked in front of your mirror

"I now have to go down and prepare for tomorrow's picnic" you said to try and convince yourself to go down and prepare however your plan was interrupted when your phone rang, the name of your other best friend lighting up the screen.

"YANG JUNGWON YOU LITTLE MONSTER" you screamed as you picked up the phone.

" yo y/n what is your proBLEM?!"

"YOU OBVIOUSLY"

"what did I do this time bestie, explain to me please"

"well I was about to go prepare for my monthly picnic with jake but you decided that it was a good idea to call me".

"oooh, jake, the guy that likes you but doesn't know how to tell you"

"plEASE, he doesn't like me, we've been friends for a couple years and he sees me as a good friend"

"ok but like, since yOU like him, why don't you speak to him about it?"

at this point you are heading to the kitchen in order to get ready for tomorrow, since hanging up on jungwon wouldn't happen soon.

"if I tell him I might ruin our friendship, won"

"he likes you too tho, even sunghoon noticed!"

"since when do you hang out with sunghoon?"

"since you were too busy going on dates with jake"

"please, we had study meetings"

"yeah call it whatever you want love"

you tried to respond to jungwon but nothing came out of your mouth so jungwon continued,

"anyways, I'm hanging up so you can prepare for your picnic, by the way, wear those brown corduroy pants I got you for your birthday!!"

"yeah fine, I'll make sure to fill you in on what happened won, good night!"

"night y/n!"

with that you went to prepare some quick snacks for tomorrow and also got some of your favorite jellies from a seven eleven nearby, all because they were also jake's favorite jellies.

———————♡timeskip #2♡———————

you woke up by the sudden sound of your alarm, you didn't even remember setting an alarm but you find have time to worry about stuff like this as you wanted to get up and get ready quickly for the picnic.

your phone rang and jake's number lit up your phone's screen.

"yo jake, bro, homie, fella, how you doin" that was the weirdest thing you've ever, like eVER, said in your life.

"Y/N Y/L/N ARE YOU DRUNK THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING?!"

"of course no jakey, it's 11:29 am, the picnic is in two hours "

" uh uh uh- special picnic" jake emphasized special once again.

" oh well, guess I'll take more time to get ready since its spEcial" you said, mimicking the way he said special.

" I swear to our friendship, y/n, if you're not ready by the time I come to pick you up, consider yourself not my friend" he said sarcastically, adding a laugh at the middle of his sentence.

"oh well, it's your lucky day because I have just started getting ready!" you lied, you walked to your dresser and started searching for that one pair of brown corduroy pants jungwon suggested you wear.

"I'm hanging up jake, gotta go get ready, see you at 1 outside my house!" you hung up without giving him a chance to reply.

bingo

you finally found the pants, searching for a shirt now. you found a white blouse you had got last Halloween for a pirate costume but never wore it. It didn't look like a costume shirt anyway, you shrugged and got into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready afterwards.

You were done with your shower now, the time was 12 pm and you had an hour left before jake got to your place to pick you up.

You put on your clothes and matched a pearl necklace (which was, indeed, a gift by jake) with your outfit, you opted for some classic black converse high tops as for the shoe choice, and with that, your outfit was complete.

You headed downstairs to prepare your basket, full with snacks and fizzy drinks, also getting a light blanket with you, just in case.

You heard a car honk from outside and checked the time, it was 12 : 40, twenty minutes before jake should be here to pick you up. The same honking sound was heard again and you headed to the door to see if it was jake by any chance. It was jake indeed, you got your basket, your keys, sprayed some perfume on and left the house, not forgetting to lock the door behind you.

"well hello there, y/n"

you were ready to tell general kenobi literally at his face, the pun must've been intended as you had a star wars movie marathon some days ago.

"hello to you too, jakey"

You both got in the car and jake turned the music up, a song unknown to you playing on the radio. Jake seemed different today, he seemed nervous, something unusual to him.

"is everything okay jake?"

"yeah why?" he responded while he let out a small laugh.

"oh, nothing!"

The drive went by quickly, however jake had taken you to a place you thought you'd never see again, it was the place where you and jake had first met. A park filled with bushes and sunflowers, huge trees and benches along with wooden tables. You were on the verge of tears, left speechless, you opened the car's door, taking your basket and started running around the park laughing loudly. You were feeling truly happy.

Jake was watching from inside the car, deciding to open his door too, taking his own basket, locking the car and started running towards you.

After running around for some good minutes, you sat on bench and left your baskets on a wooden table, starting to set your food in order for your picnic to start.

You had started eating your second sandwich when jake interrupted you, making you put your sandwich down and turning your attention to him.

"yo y/n, do you remember those love letters you kept on receiving last year?"

"of course I do! I've been searching till this day! but what does that have to with our special picnic?"

"well, I'm the one who sent those letters" jake said, lowering his head and starting to fiddle with his hands.

"well, that was a good one!" you started laughing. Noticing the situation jake was in right now, it only meant one thing, "WAit, you're not joking?"

"not really" he said giggling sadly, lifting his stare and watching into your eyes. You extended your arms and reached out to hug him.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"wait, you really didn't know I liked you? The boys kept on telling that my crush on you was too obvious!" he said, looking annoyed by his friends that moment.

"I mean, you did throw a basket ball at me once that had, "let me take you out" all over it but I didn't think you meant thAT TAKING OUT" you said, laughing at the old memory you had remembered.

well, y/n, would you officially allow me to take you out?" he asked, a glowing happy slice on his face when he noticed your emotionless face, "on A DATE, I mean, not with a basket ball!" he added. With that, you burst into laughter and looked at him, showing him your brightest smile.

"of course I'll let you take me out, on a date, jake"

[astranva]

Dad!Harry having all daughters and all of them are either doing his hair or putting makeup on him while asking him silly questions about himself 😙

Title: Beautiful Chaos

Word Count: 1.9k

Category: dad!harry fluff

Warnings: Not proofread but none other than that.

That was lovely to write, too, my heart is about to buRST although I couldn’t find a suitable photo for the Instagram post I add at the end oops

There were a lot of things that your husband, Harry, enjoyed. Like, you spooning him after a long day at work, like smelling your coconut scent through the house, and like the fact that he was a father of 3 healthy girls.

Perla, Emerald, and Ruby were 3 girls whom Harry could go to hell and back for, not to mention you, but it had always been like that since the moment he met you.

Perla, being 7 years old, frequently took pride in her “big sister” title, wearing it like a sash around her and especially at her school and around her friends. Out of her sisters, she was the most protective of her family and it was something that had never failed to make you and Harry melt.

Harry even often found himself going on his phone, watching a video he had discreetly recorded when she was only 2. She was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, her eyes following your every move as you made her a sandwich with your baby bump showing, in your 9th month.

“careful, mummy.”

“Mummy, careful!”

“Thank you, mummy. Thank you, little baby.”

She had said during the video, adding a kiss to your bump after her last sentence.

Then Emerald came into the world, and Harry sometimes found himself wondering if his heart had doubled its size to fit all the love he had for his family.

Being 5, Emerald – or Emma as you all frequently called her – was quiet. She was a collected, flexible child who enjoyed art. Harry’s music? She would be listening carefully to it, saying comments that not all 5-year-olds would say;

“I like the piano here.”

“Uncle Mitch did a great job here!”

“Daddy, the bass is so low.”

And it only made sense that yours and Harry’s phones were full of pictures of her with her toy guitar around her shoulders, strumming as she cutely sang Harry’s songs or even some Fleetwood Mac into her green microphone.

And then came your youngest, being 3 – Ruby.

Ruby was a funny and hyperactive child. No hairstyle could sit still for her and more often than not, she sat with messy and chaotic brown hair, clothes a little disheveled. She was definitely more of a risk-taker than her sisters.

You remember only months ago at the beginning of the year, before the pandemic outbreak, when you and Harry were visiting a friend of yours from work and they had a big dog, a Great Dane, Perla and Emerald hiding behind you and Harry as they saw the dog but Ruby thrashed in Harry’s arms, demanding he put her down so she can “play with the puppy.”

And the one time you were at Anne’s, Ruby had curiously poked Dusty’s stomach, which the cat didn’t like to defend itself, it scratched 2-year-old Ruby’s hand.

Everyone stared in shock, waiting for Ruby to break down and cry but were surprised when she stared at her hand with a frown before looking at Dusty who walked off,

“Sorry!” She had only shouted at the cat before standing and grabbing a grape to eat.

With the pandemic outbreak, your family of 5 was quarantined in your London home. Refusing to leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary, you had guided your daughters to understanding how important it was to wear a face mask while outside because it was their duty towards all people, you and Harry included.

But with the pandemic, you and Harry were busy at creating ways that would keep the kids busy as well. From movie nights to activities, you both had tried to keep the kids entertained as well as aware of what was going on as best as you could.

It was one day when everything was just slow-paced, quiet, and chill. Harry had shaved his beard and left a mustache, one that your daughters were very amused by and had been all week.

You sat with your laptop on your lap, earphones connected as you watched The Good Place, but keeping the sound low enough for you to hear what your kids were conversing about.

Harry sat beside you, reading a book he had picked up a couple of days ago, his hand behind your back, fingers gently and mindlessly caressing your back, stroking it up and down in a comforting and soothing manner.

Perla and Ruby were sat together, coloring the most recent sketched you had printed them, while Emerald was sat on the floor against your legs, trying to make you and Harry a beaded bracelet from the toy set Harry had gotten her earlier.

“Mummy, does this look nice?” She asked, turning to look at you as she raised a pink-beaded thread string.

You lowered your laptop screen, looking at her. “It looks very nice, baby. Do you want me to tie it?”

“Yes, please.” She stood, handing you the string and watching you in awe as you did as if you were doing pure magic. You tied it in the way you had learned years ago, when friendship bracelets were a thing, making sure that it can get tighter or looser, however the wearer wanted.

“There you go.”

“Thank you, Mummy.” She grinned as she took it before moving to Harry, attempting to climb him which earned her a giggle from him as he helped her up, putting his book aside before mentally cursing himself because he didn’t know where he stopped.

“Look! I made you this!” Emerald grinned as she handed Harry the bracelet, watching excitedly and waiting for his reaction.

Harry gasped dramatically, “Woooow!” He looked at the bracelet lovingly, feeling like his heart was about to burst as he put it on, vowing to never take it off to himself. “I love it, Em. Thank you so much, baby.”

Emerald grinned bashfully, raising her shoulders closer to her cheeks as she did, Harry grabbing her to press a kiss against her hairline.

You watched with pure love, show long forgotten as you paused and gave your full attention to the scene.

Noticing what was going on, your oldest and youngest paused their coloring to approach you and look at their dad’s new jewelry.

“Good job, Em. Can you make me one?” Your oldest, Perla, asked excitedly as she eyed the bracelet before grinning at her shorter sister, who excitedly nodded at her.

“Me, too!” Ruby chimed, “But blue!”

“First, Mummy,” Emerald pointed at you, “Then Per,” she pointed at her older sister, “Then Rube.”

“Starting a business, aren’t you?” Harry joked, bringing her close to his chest as he playfully gnawed on her cheek, smiling as she squealed out in laughter.

As if the idea had been in her mind for a while, Perla suddenly blurted out a question:

“Daddy, can I put makeup on you?”

You grinned, looking at Harry and waiting for his reply.

He looked at you quickly before moving back to Perla, “I don’t see why not. Go on, get the stuff you need.”

“Ruby, you think we can paint daddy’s nails?” You asked your youngest with an excited grin, hearing your husband laugh.

Ruby nodded with a squeal, holding your hand as you stood up before Perla ran in front of you, you and Ruby following her as you ran towards yours and Harry’s room to get the stuff needed.

“Blue!” Ruby pointed at the blue nail polish bottle while Perla stood with your makeup bag, “And pink.”

“Yellow, too,” Perla added.

“How about we take the whole thing.” You chuckled as you gathered the box in your hands, walking behind your squealing, excited daughters.

At the sight of you, Emerald lit up, “I’ll do daddy’s hair!”

“You girls are giving Daddy a whole makeover, huh?” Harry laughed lovingly, welcoming all the attention.

You sat on Harry’s right, Ruby on his left with the blue nail polish bottle in her hand as she sat on her stomach with Harry’s hand waiting for her. Perla sat on Harry’s lap while Emerald climbed and seated herself on Harry’s shoulders, scrunchie around her wrist as she played with Harry’s hair.

Harry would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how everything was right there and then. His wife was painting his nails in pink, pastel yellow, and baby blue while his 3-year-old was having her go with his other hand, getting polish on his cuticles but trying nonetheless. His oldest daughter brushing his cheeks with her mom’s blush brush, while his 5-year-old was gently pulling on his hair.

“Okay, done,” Perla closed the blush before moving to choose a lipstick, ending up with your red Mac one and opening it, “Daddy, do like that.” She instructed, puckering her lips. So Harry did, looking up as he did and trying to stifle his giggles as she put on lipstick on his puckered lips, “Okay, no more.” So he set his lips back, Perla continuing on applying the vibrant red color.

You hunched a little forward, a smile making its way to your lips, “Looking beautiful, baby.”

He hummed, his chest shaking with laughter as he felt the lipstick above his upper lip before Perla pulled back and looked back in the bag to apply anything more. He looked at you as you painted the last nail in pink, keeping only his middle finger’s nail in pastel yellow while his thumb and index were in baby blue, his ring and pinky’s being in pink. “Feeling so, too.” He said as he closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of contentment for emphasis, overly dramatic, making you laugh.

It was 20 minutes later when his girls were done with their work and pushed him towards him and his wife’s bedroom, where they had a full-body length mirror.

He looked absolutely chaotic, and he loved everything about it. While his hair stuck in all directions, some lockets were collected by Emerald’s peach-colored scrunchie, one hand was nicely painted – which was painted by his wife – while the other was an absolute mess of blue but you can spot the attempt and it was nothing a nail polish remover couldn’t fix, his eyelids having some glitter on them, red lipstick nicely put except for a smudge right above his upper lip, cheeks too pink.

“What do you think?” Perla asked excitedly.

“Wow!” Harry breathed out, moving closer to the mirror, “I look glamorous!” He put his hands up in a peace sign, puckering his lips and popping up a leg as he posed, making his family laugh.

“Wait, let’s take a picture.” You grinned, raising your phone up as everyone got into a spot; Emerald had her arm thrown on Ruby’s shoulders as she smiled, Ruby sticking her tongue out, Perla choosing to sit down in front of her sisters, crossing her legs as she grinned with her eyes closed. You stood behind the hugging sisters, against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped one arm around your shoulders from the back, the other around your waist as he smiled into the mirror, his head leaning down to press his cheek against yours. You held your phone with one hand, the other reaching up to hold on to Harry’s arm around you as you grinned before taking the picture.

“Let’s frame that.” Harry whispered to you in bliss, looking at the photo from behind you before moving to wrap both arms around your waist, “Thank you, love. For making me the happiest man alive.”

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter one

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100

ao3 link

*

“Any messages, Gina?”

Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.

Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.

“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”

Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”

“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”

A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”

Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”

“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”

As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.

The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.

It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.

Scratch that, throughout the  world.  

Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.

*

Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit  GIRLS  red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.

She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.

“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.

“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”

Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t  not  show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.

The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.

Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.

“Yo, Beca!”

Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.

“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”

“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is  fire. ”

Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”

Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.

She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.

“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage…  Ariel! ”

The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.

There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.

Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.

Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.

It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.

Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.

Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.

This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something  had  to have happened for her to settle for this.

Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.

She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.

“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”

“Ariel.”

The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”

Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”

“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”

Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”

The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”

“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”

The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”

“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”

His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”

Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”

He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”

The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not  available .”

“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”

The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”

Dammit.  She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”

He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.

As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.

Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”  

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”  

Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”

A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed.  “What?”  

“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”

“Where??”

“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”

“What? Did you talk to her?”  

“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”  

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.

She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.

The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.

“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.

“Who’s asking?”

“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.

The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”

Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”

He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.

Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.

She wondered how far  Chloe  went.

She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.

The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.

Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.