memesiders · 5 years ago
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Part 10
Death x OC Office AU
(I feel like I haven't updated in weeks, lol. Enjoy!! 💖)
“I’m just gonna go out for a walk,” I sighed, shoving my feet into a pair of old studded combat boots. “That’s all.”
“You don’t get all dressed up like that to just go for a walk,” Safiya said behind me. I rolled my eyes and tied up the laces, flipping my hair out of my face. “Plus, you straightened your hair and shaved, and you put on your sexy underwear.” I scoffed and stood, turning to her.
“Maybe I just wanna feel hot while I go on a walk, you ever think of that?”
“You’re the worst liar in this house. Where are you really going?” I groaned loudly and slipped my leather jacket over my shoulders, moving my hair.
“Nowhere, except for a walk.”
“So, who is it?” Neema asked from the couch, looking at me inquisitively. I threw my hands up.
“No one!”
“It’s your boss, isn’t it?”
“It better not,” Safiya scoffed. I glared at her. “Are you going to see him?” I felt my face grow warm.
“No!” I cried, running my hands through my hair.
“Aziza, if you’re going to see him-”
“I’m not, I’m just gonna get drinks with someone from work! You happy now?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw clenched. She was thoroughly unconvinced by my answer. I rolled my eyes. “I’ve gotta go or else I’m gonna be late.”
“Aziza-”
“Don’t wait up!” I grabbed my keys and shoved them into my purse, walking out. I slammed the door behind me and hurried down the stairs. I slammed against the front door and pushed it open, walking out into the cold. I gulped down fresh air and moved to lean against the side of the building. I slowly slid down, crouching, and held my head in my hands. The weekend had snuck up on me.
I hadn’t even realized it was Saturday when I woke up this morning. All day I could only think about my date with Death. I was nervous and excited and irritated, but the irritation wasn’t at him. Safiya had sensed something off with me and had been hounding me all day about what was going on with me. I knew she’d blow a gasket if she knew I was going to see my boss, so I just didn’t tell her. I hadn’t told either of my sisters, which was uncharacteristic of me, to be honest. Usually, I told them everything; from what I had for lunch to how many times I had to use the restroom.
I shared my life with them completely, but I couldn’t share this. From how Safiya had just acted, I didn’t even want to imagine her reaction if I’d told her the truth. Knowing that I was going to meet someone from work was enough for them to know. Still, I felt guilty about keeping this from them. I knew Neema wouldn’t care, and she’d probably only tease me about it, but I didn’t want her to have to keep a secret from Safiya for me. It wasn’t fair to her.
I sniffled, the cold freezing my nose, and stood. I’d asked to meet Death at the office instead of having him pick me up at home. There was no way my sisters wouldn’t know who I was seeing if he pulled up in his Rolls Royce. I sighed and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket, pushing the drama with my sisters to the back of my mind. I had been waiting for this night for days, and nothing was going to take away my excitement. I’d been restless the rest of the week, thinking only about tonight.
What did he have planned for us? Was he as nervous as I was? What if I messed things up or we found out we were completely incompatible? Or if I did something horrible would he fire me? I didn’t want to have to tell Safiya she was right; that would be the icing on the cake.
I shuttered at the thought of having to admit to her that I was wrong and she was right.
I reached the building fairly easy. The crowd on the sidewalk was beginning to get denser just as I arrived. Death was waiting outside, leaning against the front door. He was dressed nicely, with dark jeans, a neatly tucked iris shirt, and a pair of black boots that looked like they could easily pay rent for three months. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a nice black trench coat, his head resting against the glass. His eyes were closed but he seemed to know I was here, because before I could finish crossing the street his eyes were open and trained on me. I smiled and waved, running up to him.
“Sorry if I’m late,” I said. He smiled softly at me.
“It’s worth the wait,” he replied. I blushed and he looked me up and down, pushing away from the door. “Should we get going?” I nodded and he walked to his car that was parked in front of us, opening my door for me. I thanked him and got in, setting my purse next to me. He closed my door and was in his seat in a flash, the engine of the car roaring to life. I smiled and relaxed into my seat, clipping my seatbelt on.
“So, what do you have planned for us for the evening?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb. He looked at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Nothing, really… I was hoping you had an idea.” I snickered and shook my head.
“I’m indecisive when it comes to decisions like this! I thought you’d have something fancy planned.” He hummed quietly and I bit the inside of my cheek. “I don’t need anything fancy, Death. We could sit in the car and eat fast food and I’d be fine.” He snorted softly and turned to look at me as we came to a stoplight, traffic starting to pick up.
“I suppose we should have dinner?” I shrugged. “Have you eaten?”
“I ate some mashed potatoes and corn.” He cocked his head slightly. “It was either that or ramen again.”
“Dinner it is,” he said. I smiled and nodded.
“Dinner it is,” I repeated. I turned my body as much as I could and rested my head against the seat. “Tell me about yourself.” He chuckled darkly and looked away from me.
“You don’t want to know.” His tone was morose. I reached over and put my hand on his knee, giving him an encouraging look.
“I’m pretty sure I do. You don’t have to tell me your whole life story. Let’s start simple, like… What’s your favorite movie?” He stared at me quizzically. “Come on, you have to have a favorite film. Mine’s The Sixth Sense.” He shook his head slowly.
“I’ve never watched a movie.” My jaw dropped and I furrowed my brows, looking at him skeptically.
“You’re lying; you have to be. You’re telling me you haven’t watched one single movie in your entire life?” He nodded.
“I read.”
“Well so do I but it’s nice to take a seat and kick back with some snacks to watch Bruce Willis see ghosts.”
“What?” I waved his comment away and laughed.
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen a movie… That’s just criminally unjust. We’re gonna have to change that.” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, how about a different question? What… What’s your favorite book?” He tilted his head thoughtfully, silence hanging over us as we drove. Is it really that hard to pick a favorite book? How many has he read?
“You couldn’t possibly have read my favorite book. It’s not in your language.”
“Hey, I took an Enochian class in college!” He smirked.
“It remains in Heaven’s vast libraries.”
“Oh… Then I probably haven’t read it.” He laughed quietly and looked at me.
“What about you,” he asked. “What’s your favorite novel?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” He nodded. I took a deep breath. “Pride and Prejudice.” His smirk grew and I pointed a finger at him. “Hey, you promised!”
“I’m not laughing.” He sounded like he was fighting to not laugh, the bastard. “It’s a nice novel for humans.”
“It’s a classic! How can you not like it? The romance between Elizabeth and Darcy and the way it builds up is just-” I kissed my fingers. “Perfecto.” He gave me a side eye and I arched a brow. “You just don’t get it.”
“I’ll admit, I don’t appreciate it like you do.” I smiled. “What question next?” I tapped my finger against my chin, thinking it over. You can ask anything you want, anything at all.
“Do you… Do you sleep with the window closed or open?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, but I prefer fresh air so I usually leave it open.”
I jumped up. “Me too,” I exclaimed. “Neema absolutely despises it but I can’t sleep without the window at least cracked open.” I clapped, shimmying happily in my seat. “Alright, that’s one thing in common!” He chuckled amusedly. We arrived at our destination a few minutes later. In that time, I’d learned his favorite color, favorite album, and favorite football team; unsurprisingly, he didn’t watch football.
We entered the restaurant I felt a chill go down my spine. Not because of anything scary, but because this place was boujee as hell. The floor was made of some type of red crystal that glowed blue wherever you stepped. The walls were black with a gold trim and chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, orbs of blue and golden light swirling around it. The tables and chairs were made from the same crystals as the floor, lit up yellow wherever a person sat. The booths were the same, but had a cushy looking leather backing to them. Orbs floated through the place, soaring past tables and weaving between legs. It was a beautiful, and most definitely expensive, place to be. The line had extended all the way outside but Death had walked in like he owned the place. He walked up to the maître de and held up two fingers.
“The usual, this time for two,” he said. The demon next to him opened her mouth to say something when the angel next to her put his hand on her arm, shaking his head at her. She clenched her jaw, looking like she wanted to tear his eyes out, but remained silent. The maître de smiled at him and grabbed two menus, motioning for him to follow her. He took my hand and led me through the room, completely ignoring the fact that we’d just cut in line. I felt guilty; after all, they were here first. The woman led us up a platform, heels clicking loudly against the crystal floor, and set the menus down at one of the booths.
She said goodbye and hurried back to her post, never once sparing me a glance. We sat down and I shifted awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable. I wasn’t dressed to be in a place this nice. “Are you okay?” I looked at the Nephilim, who regarded me with an enquiring look. I smiled a little and nodded.
“Yeah,” I said, picking up my menu. “I’m just a little uncomfortable. I’m not dressed to be in a place like this…”
“You look fine. Most everyone here is dressed up for two reasons; to get laid or to get paid, sometimes both.” I giggled softly and shook my head, studying the menu.
“We also kind of cut in line, you know. That’s kinda rude.”
“I thought you’d want to eat. Besides, this is my regular booth.” I flicked my eyes up to him.
“You come here often?”
“I try to come at least once a week. Fury says it’s good for me to go out and socialize.” I hid my giant smile behind the menu.
“Sitting alone in a booth in a room full of people isn’t socializing, you know.” He gave me an amused smirk, his eyes meeting mine.
“Well, I’m not alone now, am I?” I rolled my eyes playfully and turned my attention back to the menu, nearly choking on air when I saw the prices.
“Death,” I said quietly. He hummed, not looking up from the menu. “This is really expensive.” His eyes moved back to mine.
“I have a Rolls and you’re worried about pricing?” he asked, a sarcastic tone to his voice. I pursed my lips slightly.
“Well, I have fifty bucks to pay for myself tonight and the lowest prince is the forty-five-dollar sweet potato fries flaked with gold.” He snorted softly and set the menu down.
“I’m paying for tonight, so order anything you want.” I frowned.
“I want to pay for my meal; I’d feel bad if you paid for everything.” He gave a small smile, watching me thoughtfully.
“Think of it as a bonus for being around me past your work hours.” I rolled my eyes.
“This is a date, not work.” I sighed and shook my head, looking back at the menu. “Fine, I’ll let you pay for tonight; but only because I’m hungry and this prime rib looks delicious.” He chuckled, the sound of it making it impossible for me to not smile as much as I could. We ordered a few minutes later and then continued our talk. I rested my elbows on the table and cupped my face, staring at him. He arched a brow and tilted his head up slightly, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“You do know that elbows on the table is considered rude, yes?” he asked amusedly. I smiled.
“Is that a date dealbreaker?” I teased, my feet dancing under the table. I was suddenly very nervous, but I tried to play it off.
“Hmm…” He tapped a finger against his chin. “No, I don’t think it is.” My smile widened and I scrunched my shoulders, attempting to look cute. He let out a breath that almost sounded like laughter and shook his head, relaxing into his seat. I folded my arms and flipped some loose strands of hair out of my face.
“So, any questions you have for me,” I asked. He pursed his lips slightly and stared at me, thinking over his next words.
“Yes,” he answered slowly. “I would like to know why you decided to apply for my office when your personality suggests you’d get along with Strife better.” I scoffed and shook my head, sitting up.
“The pay, number one! Number two, it’s close to home and to Neema’s school, and number three, I wanted to see if you were as big and bad as I’d heard.” He cocked his head.
“Where did you hear that?”
I shrugged. “My sister has a friend whose brother worked for you and he said you were a strict hard ass with no compassion and that every time you walked into a room the temperature would drop.” Death laughed, his eyes glinting with delight. “Also, my sister dated an employee of yours who said you were colder than ice cold.”
“Sounds about right,” he snickered. I smiled a little and shook my head.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said. He peered at me inquisitively. “You are an asshole, but the temperature has never dropped when you walk in a room.” He scoffed amusedly. “You’re also not without compassion. You let Nora cut back her hours to spend more time with her baby and gave me a chance to work for you even after I flipped out in your office. Plus, you bought me lunch once.”
“That was just-”
“You didn’t have to buy me so much. You could’ve gotten me a salad or even gotten me nothing at all. I think that takes some compassion, don’t you?” He stared at me thoughtfully, a small smile on his lips.
“You’re kinder than I deserve,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. My cheeks started to warm up and I looked down, trying to fight back the smile that wanted to stretch across my face.
“I don’t think so,” I said, looking back up at him. “I think you deserve more kindness.” His eyes grew dark and he clasped his hands together, his gaze leaving mine.
“If you knew of all the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t think that.” My smile fell and I reached across the table, taking one of his hands in mine. His eyes met mine once again and I gave his hand a gently squeeze.
“Whatever your sins are, just know I don’t care. I care about who you are right now.” He sighed and laced his fingers through mine, staring at our joined hands.
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is with me. I don’t know what you’ve done to think you don’t deserve basic kindness.” His hand squeezed mine, and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw torture in his eyes.
“A lot, Aziza. I’ve done a lot.”
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zankivich · 6 years ago
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Home - A One Shot
this is all about being stressed and tired and having a hard day, but coming home to an empty house because Shawn has to go and be a mega star. Except for the house isn’t empty at all. Lots of internal angst and then super super super fluff. I really like this for some reason. Let me know if you fucks wit it. 
It was your fifth time in a row not getting home until after eight o'clock at night. There was so much tension in your shoulders that you had to keep consciously reminding yourself to let them drop. Your arms were full of your computer bag and your purse and your bag that held all of your work materials that would always find some way to come home with you. Your body was tired and maybe your soul was a little tired too, and you just were ready for the day to be over.
You opened the door to your apartment and the first thing you noticed was the gentle hum of the dishwasher. It was one of your favorite sounds. You found it soothing and it reminded you of deep cleaning on the weekend and the satisfaction of a pristine house. Since you had been working late every day that week there hadn't been time to run the dishwasher at all, or do anything but pile the empty bowl of cereal you'd used as a sad excuse for dinner. Which lead you to wonder just who had felt the need to wash your dishes.
You dropped your keys and various bags on the couch taking in the cleanliness of the apartment. Someone had swept and mopped the hardwood floors. The pillows were set up nicely on the couch, and the rug you'd gotten as a housewarming present had been vacuumed. You sighed a sigh of relief knowing that it was more than likely Karen stopping by to take obsessive care of you again instead of a house cleaning bandit.
Sliding out of your heels, you headed towards the kitchen on bare feet hoping desperately that the leftover pizza from a couple days ago would satisfy your hunger. In the kitchen he was standing there, tongue tucked between his lips in frustration as he tried to scrub away at a bowl. He was wearing one of white, designer t-shirts that hung billowy on his tall but sleek frame. A curl hung in his face and your heart lurched forward like it wanted to explode from your chest. It'd been a long day, a long week, a long month, and here he was standing in front of you. There was really only one thing for you to do.
Shawn turned sharply toward you as a wet gurgling sound left your chest and you fell apart in extremely embarrassing fashion.  
"Babe? Hey-- are you crying?!"
How could you even begin to explain that being your own boss with a board of directors that had the ability to fire you defeated the purpose of being the boss? How could you explain that you were tired, and your feet hurt, and you'd spilled coffee on your favorite blouse, and you'd had every intention of coming home and drinking an entire bottle of wine in one of his hoodies, and yet here he was with his dumb, perfect face just standing there? What was there to say when he just made everything infinitely better always?
He dropped the bowl back into the sink wrapping his arms around you suds and all and dropping his chin comfortingly to your head.
"You're home." You croaked into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
He chuckled. "I am. I gotta say, not exactly the response I was expecting."
"Sorry," You sniffled.
He leaned back running his warm, callused thumbs along your eyes to gather the tears there.
"Is everything okay?"
You nodded, cheeks reddening. "Just wasn't expecting to see you."
"Bad day?"
"Bad week."
He frowned down at you before peppering your face, lips, and head with a ridiculous amount of kisses until you started to giggle.
"Well maybe I can help. I uh cleaned up. Even soaked the bowls with dried on cereal like you taught me. And I made pasta. And i bought wine. I thought we could celebrate my being home and your being generally amazing."
Your body was trying to produce more tears at that statement and you had to fight it throwing your arms around him for a hug instead. He held your body close, warm and smelling suspiciously like home. The stress of the day melted as he held you in his arms. He kissed at your hair and gave you a second to compose yourself, which was desperately needed. Afraid he might disappear if you didn't take full advantage you tangled your fingers with his and let him lead you to the dinner table where the food was all waiting.
"When did your flight even get in?" You asked he poured you a generous glass of wine.
This man knew you like the back of his hand.
"Finished up some promo in LA, and instead of spending the night in the hotel, I took a flight late last night to get here this morning. You were already at work by the time I got in. Figured I'd surprise you." He smiled.
You huffed out a breath taking a huge gulp of wine.
"Consider me surprised."
"Yea? Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked clearly referring to whatever had caused you to burst into tears at the sight of him.
You shrugged reaching for his hand. "Not really. Just wanna be with you."
He smiled soft and dopey.
"I think that can be arranged."
Shawn’s cooking skills were shaky at best, but pasta did seem to be his specialty. The food was good and he’d bought your favorite wine for the occasion. He held your hand while you ate listening while you caught him up on everything going on in your world. It always seemed a little ridiculous to try and compete with the world that he lived in, with stadium shows and recording studios and screaming fans. But, when he was home he was completely locked into you, and had this way of actually making you believe that your life was remotely interesting. He cared, which was weird, but you kind of liked it.
“I thought maybe I could run the tub for you. Help with the stress?” He asked when the dishes had joined the dishwasher, and the wine had been drunk.
You wrapped your arms around his waist booping your nose against his.
“Will you take one with me?”
He ran his thumb across your lip smiling down at you like you were more than you were, because he always saw more. And maybe that’s why you worked so well
“I don’t know if I’ll fit, but we can try.”
Shawn’s biggest need when you had been apartment hunting was that there was a view that would inspire him when he woke up in the morning. He wanted to see something that would get him to write as much as possible. Your biggest need on the other hand had been a big ass bathtub because…. Well because you liked bubble baths dammit.
Shawn filled the tub adding your favorite bubble bath while you shed your clothes and tried to shed the weight of work and anything else that wasn’t you and Shawn getting to be together again. In the bathroom, the room was steamy and warm and your husband was just kind of sitting there watching the water fill.
You took the time to take him in. The long curve of his back. His curls were especially messy today and you could tell he’d spent a lot of time tugging at them, more than likely when he was trying to figure out how the hell to clean the apartment. He’d gotten some sun in LA and his sensitive skin had both a golden look to it, as well as red splotches along his cheeks. While you were stressed out at the world, he looked rather content, which usually came with getting the album out and having the fans positively react to it. Promotion didn’t really stress Shawn out because it just kind of felt like the cherry on top for him. It was an interesting moment in time because while a few months ago he had needed your support during the creation of the album, now you really needed him. And the fact that he showed up just felt like he was everything you could have ever asked for.
“You’re staring.” Shawn grinned catching you standing at the door.
You nodded. “Little bit. Is the water ready?”
“I think so. Do you wanna test it, make sure I didn’t do it wrong?”
You crossed the room and let your fingers skim past the bubbles and into the water. It was warm, a little on the hotter side, just the way you liked it. You could feel his eyes on your face looking for you to confirm that he did it right, and you were more than willing to praise him.
“It’s perfect.” You hummed
He reached out snaking his arm around you to pull you close by one of the ties on your robe.
“Good. You deserve perfection.”
He pressed his lips against yours and you sighed, lips parting just enough to let his tongue slip inside. Sometimes you forgot how good he could make your body feel. It always surprised you how attentive he was, how he just seemed to pull emotions from you with ease. When his hands were on you you felt safe, felt wanted. And everytime he came home those emotions seemed to amplify exponentially.
Watching Shawn fit himself into the tub was quite hilarious. It was a huge tub, so big you’d had to get a designer to hunt one down. But, you had gone for width and not length, so his six foot plus frame fit oddly in the tub, knees sticking out of the water. He was adorable covered in bubbles though and he wouldn’t stop smiling at you for nothing. You were sitting on the opposite side of the tub building a bubble fort to cover your body when you felt his hand grace your thigh beneath the water.
“What are you doing all the way over there?” He asked.
You chuckled. “We’re like five inches away from each other, babe.”
“Exactly, too much. Come here.” He insisted making grabby hands at you like a child.
You laughed letting him grabs your hands and pull you closer in the tub. He maneuvered you, back to chest, your thighs bracketed by his. Though you’d never admit it, it was the most wonderful feeling you could ever fail to describe. His arms leaning on the edge of the tub, holding your hand so that your wedding rings touched, and your heart beat softer and sweeter inside your sternum. This was home. Not the penthouse extravagant apartment, or the tub, or the view. Home was him. And the craziest part was that he somehow believed you were too.
“I’m not crushing your dick am I?” You mumbled leaning back against his chest.
He laughed. “I promise you if you were crushing my dick, you’d hear about it.”
“K. Just precious cargo and all that.”
“Are you saying you only love me for my penis?”
“I’m saying I love lots of things about you. Especially your penis.” You smirked. “Now hold me, eh?”
He let his arms dip into the water pulling more bubbles toward you with a tiny wave as his arms came to do what you’d asked. His large palms tested on your thighs and it was as sensual as it was cozy. You felt most like yourself in moments like these. When it was just the two of you and you knew that no matter what came out of your mouth there would be no judgement. He sometimes felt like the best part of you, but you loved more that he could rattle off dozens of things that he liked more about you. His lips grazed your shoulder and you just wanted to fold into him, to allow yourselves to become one. Because maybe then he wouldn’t leave again.
“I love you.” He whispered seemingly out of nowhere, but you wondered if his mind was where yours was.
Was he counting down the hours of the next flight, the next interview, the next performance? Were you any better at hiding the pain that hit when it did?
You took one of his hands off your thigh cradling it in both of yours as you placed it between your breasts, right where your heart was. You wanted him to feel the way it beat, the way it was when he was there.
“I don’t think I breathe the same when you’re away.” You murmured. “I think my heart beats to a different rhythm… like it’s trying to protect itself until you get back. Like I’m farther away from home every mile we’re apart.”
“That’s really beautiful” He murmured with a soft chuckle against your neck. “And really sad.”
You strained your neck, sliding farther down in the tub so that you could peer up at him. He let his hand move from your heart, past your neck, to grip your cheek. He kissed you softly eyes open the entire time and you felt like you were melting in the water. He’d always had that effect on you.
“You know I’d take you everywhere with me if I could right?” He whispered stroking your jaw with his thumb.
“Y--Yea. I know.”
“Your job is really important to you. And I love that about you. I don’t want your life to revolve around me just because of the career I chose. You don’t wanna be a tour wife, and I don’t want you to throw everything away for me.”
It was a conversation you’d had time and time again. Being your own person, your own woman, was wonderful and important and empowering. But, sometimes you just wanted him to hold you in his arms and it was devastating when he wasn’t there.
“I know. I know.” You huffed, your eyebrows drawing together. “It’s just hard right now. I’ll get over it.”
“I don’t want you to get over it alone. I’m your husband, you can lean on me ya know? You don’t have to always carry the world on your shoulders.”
You shrugged. “I don’t know how to do it any other way. This is all that I know.”
“Would you have called and told me how hard your week was, if I hadn’t come home?”
You let your eyes drop away from his, and that was really the only answer that he needed.
“You know I don’t like bothering you when you’re on the road.”
He sighed. “Babe, we’ve gotta find another way to deal with things.”
“Well that’s real easy to say when you’re a hundred miles away, Shawn!”
Your shoulders tensed up, and the easy, floating feeling from earlier disappeared as you got angry at yourself and at Shawn and at the world. Everything that you’d been keeping in came bubbling to the surface, and you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore.
“You don’t know what it’s like. You’re out there doing what you love and working twenty five hours a day. And I’m here. I’m here living the life that you get to pick up and put down whenever you want. I go grocery shopping and people just stare at me like I’m some desperate housewife. My board of directors is ninety-five percent old, wrinkly, white men who either are staring at my ass or tits or whatever means they don’t have to listen to me talk about the work that I’m doing. And sometimes it’s really great, but other times it really fucking sucks. And you want me to just what...ask you to come home? Ask you to drop everything that you’re doing in LA or Brazil or Japan, just to fly back to Canada for me? I won’t! I won’t ask you to fucking do that Shawn, and you know it.”
You both stewed in silence for a minute, the only sound in the entire room being the bubbles slowly depuffing on the water’s surface. There was a tear that betrayed your being and slid angrily down your cheek. You reached up to wipe at it, thankful for the fact that you’d had the good grace to turn away from him. His fingers came up regardless to hold your hand, squeezing at the fingers just enough to bring you back into the moment, just enough to remind you that he was there when it mattered.
“You feel a little better now?”
You scoffed at him not dignifying it with a response. You hated yelling at Shawn, mostly because he very rarely yelled back. And arguing about his job always put a bitter taste in your mouth. You loved what he did for a living and never wanted to seem ungrateful for him getting to live his dream. But your heart rate had come down a little bit, and your shoulders didn’t hurt as bad proving that made a little of the steam had escaped. As if he was reading every thought you’d ever had his hands came to rest on your shoulders digging into the tense muscles with his firm, too big hands. You bit your lip to stifle a groan and he brought his mouth to your ear.
“If you called while I was in New York or Japan or even in Toronto; I’d come. Because you mean the world to me. That’s what married couples are supposed to do, right? Be there for each other? We’re just a little farther apart sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make my way back to you. It just means I might take longer to get here. But I want you to call when it gets on top of you. Because when it gets on top of me there’s no one I’d rather call than you. No one who makes me feel calmer, or more in control. I need you. And I just wanna give you that, too.”
Somewhere in his words another teardrop falls and you’re not sure if its from sadness or elation or comfort. But when he notices that you’re crying he pulls your lips to his and he presses his hand against your heart again. And the rhythm changes beneath his palm. And your heart seems to expand within your chest like it’s taking its own little breath. You can’t find it within yourself to do anything but be closer to him. And any anger or frustration completely goes away when he’s touching you like that.
“I think I need to get out of Toronto for a while.” You admit softly.
He nods resting his forehead against yours.
“You can come with me back to LA. I’ll set it up with Andrew, get us a separate hotel room. Can you get the time off?”
“Yea, I’ve got PTO out the ass. Also, I’m kind of the boss.”
He grinned because he’s a man and he’s your husband but he’s also most definitely still a child at heart.
“That’s kind of hot.”
You roll your eyes, serious moment destroyed.
“I’m getting out of this tub now.”
When you’re both in robes and the water has drained and he’s pressing you against the bathroom sink to get at your lips better, it does seem like things will get better somehow. Or maybe it’s just because he’s there, holding you that you’re able to forget. And you wonder what it will feel like when you’re apart again. But he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed before your mind has the time to worry.
He gives you a hoodie he must have worn on the plane and you pull it on way too excitedly. It shouldn’t matter, but having his smell on you makes you feel good and he knows it. You put on Harry Potter and he holds you in his arms playing with your hair the way that you like, whispering his favorite lines against your neck. Your legs are intertwined and his chest is bare and warm, all the more better to press yourself into. With the wine and the food and the bubble bath, your eyes start to droop and before you’re even aware of what’s happening you fall asleep
When you wake up the lights are off, and the only light in the room comes from the tv illuminating you in soft, blue glow. Shawn must have shifted you over because you catch him mid-movement as he’s pulling the blankets back over your body.
“I’m here.” He whispered wrapping his arm around your waist. “Sorry to wake you.”
You yawn rolling over and pushing your face back into his chest for warmth.
“It’s fine. Sorry to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot lately. You need rest.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been a little stressed out, not on my deathbed.”
“Will you stop being so stubborn, woman. Let me take care of you.” He huffed.
“Be careful. I might get used to it.” You warned him.
He threaded his fingers into your hair and kissed your forehead as you both settled in for the night.
“Baby, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
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Meaning of Life - Harry Styles Series (Part 14)
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Part 13
It was the day your album was being released. It was finally here. Harry had woken up before you and checked out iTunes for the midnight releases. He smirked when he saw you were at Number 1 and it had only been a few hours. You only had radio interviews today, so you didn’t have to be up super early, but Harry still wanted to make you a special breakfast. 
He was looking forward to being by your side throughout the day and seeing an album release day from the other side. He pulled out on the ingredients from the cabinets and fridge to make chocolate chip french toast. He cut up some fruit and made some eggs with veggie bacon before pouring some orange juice in a glass. He plated everything onto the tray and grabbed the flowers he had delivered this morning. 
Harry put forks and knives along with napkins onto the tray with the food. He checked the time and new it was close to you waking up, so he headed up to the bedroom. As soon as he walked through the door, your phone went off with an alarm, waking you up. 
You were shocked that you were actually able to sleep and stay asleep with the anxiety and excitement about your album, but you probably were just so exhausted your body couldn’t be awake anymore. When you woke up, you saw Harry walking in with a huge plate of food. 
“Goood mooorning, love!” Harry smirked. 
“Please tell you’re wearing something under that apron?” You giggled. 
“Way to kill a man’s ego, Y/N,” he laughed. “But yes, I’m clothed.” 
“Hey, I just wasn’t sure if it was sanitary for you to be naked and cooking breakfast,” you laughed. 
He laughed sitting down on the bed and the food in between the two of you. 
“So, how are you feeling?” He asked. “Today’s a big day.” 
“Well, now that you brought it up, I’m super nervous,” you sighed. “And all of these radio interviews... what if the reviews are bad? How am I supposed to face that?” 
“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you yet,” he said. “But being a seasoned album releaser... I’ve looked into the sales numbers so far, and baby you’re doing amazing. You’re already number one on iTunes.” 
“I am?” You asked. 
“Yeah, you are,” he said. “I mean you were number one for a bit after the link to preorder was released, but yeah, you’re number one right now and probably will stay there all fucking day if not the fucking week.” 
“I wouldn’t go that far, just yet,” you laughed. “But wow... I can’t believe this.” 
“Yes, you can,” he said. “Your songs have been number one almost every time, it’s just now they’re really your songs.” 
You smiled as you took a bite of your french toast.
**
You were waiting at the radio station where you’d be having your first interview. Harry was with you, glued to his phone as he looked up different reviews and charts. So far everything was great and everyone, minus a few people, of course, were enjoying your album. You, however, had yet to get on social media because you were too nervous to see the reviews yourself. 
You even had Harry type out the link to your own album on your social media because you weren’t ready to get on there yet. 
“You’re going to be fine,” Harry said. “It’s only a twenty-minute interview and then we’re headed to a few more twenty-minute interviews and then you’ll be done.” 
“Except for the party we have later tonight,” you mumbled. 
“Dinner, it’s a dinner,” he laughed. 
“With a shit ton of people in a private room of a fancy-ass restaurant,” you said. “Therefore it’s a party.” 
“It’s a celebration,” he said. “This is something you’ve worked so hard for and it’s finally here. Plus, your fucking smashing everything today. I wouldn’t be surprised if you broke some records.” 
“Don’t jinx me!” you laughed. “And don’t get my hopes up.” 
“I’m sorry, but I really do think you’re going to be shocked by your numbers, love,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.” 
“Thank you,” you smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.” 
“Of course, I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he smiled. 
**
By the time you were at your final interview, your throat was scratchy and you were tired. So far all the radio stations and their listeners had been praising you and your album, which made you feel better throughout the day. You were definitely getting the hang of these interviews by now, but you were looking forward to being done with them, at least for the day. 
Harry had gotten you some lunch, which you were thankful for. He had been so great and you really couldn’t have done this without him because if he wasn’t here, you’d be here by yourself. Well, you’d have your management team, but they were on the payroll. 
“Alright, alright, we’re back on the radio, with Y/N, who’s debut album just released about fourteen hours ago and is topping the charts by a landslide,” the host said. “Congrats on having quite the success so far.” 
“Thank you,” you smiled. “I’m really happy everyone seems to be enjoying it.” 
“We are, we all are,” she nodded. “Now, I have to ask this, what is your favorite song on the album.” 
“Oh, gosh, I’ve no clue, to be honest. Each song really has a special place in my heart, but I think my favorite song is Slow Dance, which is why I made it the single. I also love Move You because I remember when I recorded it and then we added in the choir back vocals, which took it to the next level,” you said. 
“And your vocals are top notch on Move You as well,” she added. 
You laughed, “Thank you.”
“No, honestly, we were talking about it this morning, you could easily be one of the best female vocalists in the industry right now,” she said. 
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” you blushed. 
“No, but you should,” she said. “You not only have a huge range, but you also have this different tone in your voice that makes it stand out.” 
“Well, thank you,” you laughed. “When I made this album, I didn’t seek out for being one of the best female singers or having a number one album. I just wanted to make music and share my story in the world, so the fact that this response has happened, I couldn’t be more grateful about it.” 
“Well, we’re proud of you here and we’re already looking forward to a tour,” she said. 
“Yeah, we’re planning a tour soon, nothing has been set or finalized yet, but as soon those details are offical, I’ll let everyone know,” you smiled. 
“Did you hear that everyone? Y/N will be going on tour at some point, so cross your fingers she’ll be coming to a city near you,” she smiled. 
**
Once you were finished with your interviews, you headed back to your house. You showered and changed for the dinner party. You got your makeup and hair done and slipped into your dress for the night. 
“How do I look?” You smiled at Harry as you turned around, showing him your dress. 
“Like the girl who has the number one fucking album in the world right now,” he smirked. 
You rolled your eyes, “Wishful thinking,” you joked. 
He laughed, “But seriously, you look amazing and I know I’m the luckiest man alive,” he smiled wrapping his arms around you. 
“I love you,” you smiled. 
“And I love you,” he said. “Now, come on, it’s time to celebrate you.” 
When you arrived at the restaurant, everyone was already there, so when you and Harry walked in, everyone cheered and congratulated you. Your producers, record label, management team, and close friends were in attendance. You walked around the entire room, saying hello to everyone, before sitting down at the table for you and Harry. 
“This is insane,” you smiled. “The fact all these people wanted to celebrate with me.” 
“It’s a big deal, baby. You’re a big deal,” Harry said. “We’re all proud of you.” 
You smiled kissing him quickly. Before dinner, all of your team had made toasts and speeches to congratulate you on your big day. After dinner, you made some more rounds, talking with everyone and enjoying the night. When it was time for dessert, they brought out this huge cake and balloons and champagne. 
You laughed when you saw it and took a few pictures with it before Harry got up in front of everyone for his toast. 
“Um, good evening everyone,” he said. “I know a lot of toasts have been made, but I just need to add one more. I want to thank everyone for coming tonight because not only does it mean a lot to Y/N, but myself as well. Seeing Y/N write and record this album makes seeing all the loved reactions to it even more special. I remember when Y/N would doubt herself and now she finally sees what I’ve seen in her this entire time. Baby, I’m so proud of you and to mark this special occasion, I bought you a little gift.” 
Harry brought out this huge guitar case and opened it up, bringing out this beautiful vintage guitar. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped walking over to it. “This is beautiful, I love it.” 
He smiled, “You deserve it, baby,” he whispered. 
You smiled putting the guitar over your shoulder and that’s when you see the engraving on it. It was your album name and the date of the release on the neck of the guitar. 
Tears filled your eyes as you hugged Harry. “Thank you,” you whispered. 
He smiled kissing you quickly, “You’re welcome, now I think we should try it out, don’t you?” 
You giggled pulling away from him before playing the guitar and singing one of the songs off your album in front of everyone. That day was more than you could have ever asked for and it was definitely one of the best days of your life. 
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