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sweet-creature101 · 1 year

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Kiwi

Summary: Harry and y/n meet after a long time. Harry sees that y/n’s the same yet also very different from the girl he first set eyes on.

famous!harry ; part one

warnings: mention of alcohol, substances, abuse, sex

Harry felt his heart rip to shreds and break apart as he saw he you leave. Albeit he wasted no time in reminding himself that he shouldn’t feel this way. He kept on chanting things like I don’t like her, I don’t like being around her, she’s obnoxious, her head’s too far up her ass.

The real tragedy was that Harry had dated the most affluent of all women, beautiful models and actresses yet he found himself peering at Sarah’s phone everytime it rang, hoping it would be you.

He would dream of you, consciously and subconsciously. It were as if every fibre in Harry’s body told him that he missed you and how your skin felt next to his, and Harry being as arrogant as possible only brushed off the feeling.

Harry wondered about you, where you were and what your were doing at times. He knew you were touring with 5 Seconds Of Summer. He knew you had helped them write their album, Youngblood. Harry had played that album out of curiosity and immediately recognised your work which consisted of youngblood, want you back and empty wallets.

He had fallen into a new and mudane routine, one of checking everyone’s stories and posts on Instagram. Harry happened to check Luke Hemming’s private account, and he saw Polaroid’s of you.

In one, you were naked lying on your stomach as a white blanket only covered you up to the curve your spine, little modesty but enough to cover your ass. In another, Luke had an arm snaked around your waist with a smile etched on his face as you laughed with a hand covering your face. And in the last polariod, your back was against Luke’s chest, his hands around your waist as you lean towards him. It seemed as if your were about to kiss him.

Harry couldn’t sleep that night.

And that’s how the intial steps of engineering Fine Line took place, with sleepless nights and daydreams of you.

—————————————

Fine Line in a single word was an absolute and utter success. Harry felt as if he had been catapulted straight into intense limelight and scrutiny. Everything he did was placed under a microscope, although he was used to it by now.

Harry hummed the melody of She, one of his favourite songs in the album. The muse, undoubtedly being you. The pencil in his hand bounced up and down. He was going through some last minute tour arrangements. He was excited to say the least, Love On Tour was coming together and that exhilarated him.

“Be quiet I’m calling y/n.” Sarah told him. Harry hadn’t heard from you in a long time. You had phoned him a few months ago, to congratulate him.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the speaker of his phone.

“Hi Harry.” You spoke. Harry felt his heartbeat go haywire at the sound of your voice.

“Aah, to what do I owe this pleasure y/n?” He tried his best to sound calm and collected, afraid his voice might betray him.

“Just wanted to congratulate you. You’ve done some great work on the album Harry.” You said, your voice soft and sweet.

“Thank you Love. How’s everything going with you?” He needed an excuse to hear your voice.

“Same old stuff. Play this show, play that show, write this song and write that song y’know. Really need a break.” You muttered, huffing out a breath in annoyance.

“How’s everything with you?” You added.

“Good. Even better now actually that I don’t have someone like you up my ass the whole time. Songwriting without you is less stressful.” Harry said chuckling.

You feigned shock, a very dramatic gasp leaving your lips. “And here I was thinking we’ve begun to tolerate each other.”

“I know; I know. You could be a bit more subtle when it comes to telling me how much you like me y/n.”

“Like you?! Seriously Harry?! I can barely even look at you without hurling my guts out.”

“Why are you calling y/n?” Harry asked Sarah.

“Because Mitch and I want her at the party Haz.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.

Every year, Sarah and Mitch host a Halloween party. The kind of party that never goes the way it’s supposed to go. It ends up with at least one person missing for a few days. The last time it happened to be Harry, who found himself in a motel, five hours away from their place after he sobered up. Funky times, he called it.

“Quiet as a mouse.” He said, pretending to zip his lips.

“Y/n! Lovie how are you?” Sarah spoke, her voice warm and a lovely smile on her face as she heard you speak. “That’s great! Are you free this Saturday?” Sarah spoke. Harry wish the phone were on speaker, he wanted to hear your voice again. “Yes…. No! Yes, it’s a Halloween party; well the Halloween party.” Sarah was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows sinched in understanding. Sarah went quiet for a moment, whispering a “I know it’s hard.” Harry wondered what bothered you. “You can’t wear jeans! Well not unless they’re a part of your costume.” Sarah said rolling her eyes. “Listen listen, slow down! You can stay at my place yeah?”

“Oh my god I love you I love you I love you. See you. Mwah.” Sarah squealed after the phone call ended.

“So?” Harry asked her, a smile of anticipation on his face as he looked at Sarah.

“Oh wipe off that smile off your face. You’re insufferable.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.

“M’not!”

“We all know you like her. So you can stop with this charade.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about that look.” Sarah said raising her eyebrows at Harry who looked at her with wide eyes at her statement. “There is no look.” He huffed.

“No there is. It’s a ‘i miss y/n but I don’t like her’ look”

“No there’s not.”

“There is.”

“She’s rude, obnoxious and an unpleasant person.” Harry said crossing his arms.

“Sure sure, that’s why you wrote a whole album about her.”

“It was only a few songs!”

——————————————

The music was blaring and loud. You stood outside Mitch and Sarah’s house, contemplating if you should leave or stay. Truth be told, you were exhausted. You didn’t want to party today, not even in the slightest. You wanted to cocoon yourself and stay away from everyone tonight but Sarah convinced you to come. Even dressing up seemed like a hefty chore.

You got out of the car, muttering a thank you to the driver as you handed him his money. You ran your hands over your dress, a sigh leaving your lips. You had dressed up as a pirate, although it was Vanessa, a good friend of yours who had forced you. You intially planned on dressing up in jeans and a tee shirt.

You push through the crowd, searching for Sarah. You find her near the kitchen island with Mitch and Harry behind her. You feel your heart burn when you set your eyes on Harry. Harry was dressed up as a cowboy clad in hot pink. His arms were bare and he was wearing an open waistcoat, showing off his muscled chest. Sarah spots you and waves you.

“You dressed up!” Sarah says, encasing you in a hug. You hug her back. “Sure did.” You said smiling. Mitch huged you tight and you smile a bit at the gesture.

“That’s the finest pirate booty I’ve laid me eyes on.” Harry said, mimicking a pirate accent. You roll your eyes with a small smile as you hug him. “How’ve you been?” You ask Harry. “Tour is kicking my ass. Excited yet scared y’know.”

“Don’t worry about it you’ll do well.” You said, squeezing his hand lightly as you left the trio to themselves.

Harry noticed something was off. You would’ve retorted back to him. Hell, you would’ve done anything but roll your eyes lazily. He noticed your smile didn’t reach your eyes. You seemed sad and exhausted.

After an hour of talking and drinking Harry decided to look for you. He searched the whole house, up and down and couldn’t find you. He was worried to say the least.

He entered sarahs room, scanned it thoroughly and was about to leave but when he saw you, he felt a tug at his heart. You were in balcony, leaning against the railing with your face in your hands as your body racked with sobs. Harry didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n?” Harry whispered as he entered the balcony. He noticed that you had washed your face bare. There was nothing lining your eyes, only your bare heavy red eyes.

You look at Harry with panic ridden eyes, and immdiately begin to rub away the tears. Harry walks upto you and gently holds your hands in his.

“Hey hey it’s okay.” He shushed you.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not weak I swear.” You said, your voice heavy and hoarse.

“Never said you were.” Harry replied, holding you in his arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I feel like, I don’t deserve this life. I shouldn’t be here, in the place I am today.” You said. You began to cry once more, feeling your chest become heavy.

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You bent forward where you stood on the floor, leaning against the balcony and pressing your palms to your face, as you began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

Harry felt his heart break even more at your condition. He wanted to soothe you and would even kiss your tears away if that were the price to see you smile again.

“Why do you feel this way Love?” He asked you, tightening his arms around you.

“Because I’ve left behind people.” You said. You couldn’t control your tears.

“I’ve had to do the same y/n. It’s a part of life.” Harry said, your neck buried in chest. You could heart his heart beat through his care chest.

“No no not like that. I gave up on my mom and dad.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut hard. “I left them Harry. I saw them ruin themselves because of drugs and I left them.”

Harry was unsure of what to say. He never expected to hear such a confession from you and in all honesty, you had no clue as to why you were discussing this with Harry. But it felt right to talk to someone about it, especially if that someone was him

“We can go to my place. It’s much more quiet.”

“Okay.”

You sat down in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, looking outside. You were oddly silent. Harry started humming a song to get your attention. You still said nothing. Harry started to sing now. You still said nothing. Harry began to change songs on the radio quickly, one after the other. You still said nothing.

“You look pretty tonight.” Harry said. You only looked at him and nodded. “But the boots y/n, hideous.” He dramatically sighed. “You’ll cause a hole in the windscreen if you keep staring this hard.”

It were as if Harry was desperatly trying to say play with me. You were silent and that’s when Harry decided to pull out the big guns.

“How’s everything with that guy.. Luke Hemmings right?” Harry tried to act clueless. You only rolled your eyes at him.

“What? Broke up with him because he fucked you missionary style?” Harry said, snickering as he remebered your drunken confession.

“Your ass must be jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” You grumbled. Harry heard the smile in your voice.

“There’s the y/n I adore.” He said, a smile cracking his face.

“Shut up. You’re making too much noise. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.” You said as you closed your eyes and laid your head against the back of the seat.

“Great because we’re home.” Harry said as he got out and opened the car door for you. “M’lady.” He said, extending a hand towards you which you took as he led you up the elevator.

You entered the flat and realised it’s still the same. It still smelt of candles and honey. The yellow bean bags lay mushed in the same way and the coffee tables were still dusty. You look around and remembered all the fights, laughter, song writing and mini concerts that took place here. Nostalgia wasn’t very nice to you tonight.

“It’s still the same.” You said, looking around as you stood in the middle. Harry smiled at you. “Never had the time to change it up.” He walked into his room, bringing with him a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. “Thought you might want to change in something more comfortable.”

“Thank you.” You said as you walked into the washroom. You looked at your reflection and reminded yourself to get your act together. You washed your face and tied your hair up in a ponytail and slipped on the tee shirt not bothering to wear the boxers because the tee shirt was good enough at protecting your modesty.

You step outside to see Harry brewing a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a loose tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He smiled at you and handed you the cup.

“I’d much rather have whiskey.” You said. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Your wish is my command.” Harry said and went to fetch you a glass. “So…” he trailed off as he brought you the glass and drank some from his.

“It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more nothinh less.” You said as you drank.

One glass multiplied to two, two multiplied to four and four came kept on multiplying until Harry had to literally pry out the glass from your hand.

“You’ll have a headache tomorrow y/n.” He said, keeping the glasses away.

“Good thing I know how to handle handle my liquor then.” You said smiling, your cheeks flush and hinted with pink. You lay down on the sofa with a thud and sigh as you stretch your legs.

“You know, I never told you this but Ive always liked coming here.”

“Really?” Harry asked you, his smile gentle and surprised. “Yeah. It’s a good reminder.”

“A reminder of what?” Harry asked you out of curiosity. “That a place away from home can feel like it.”

“This place feels like home?” He asked you, his eyes gentle and warm. “Yeah. I mean, might be the whiskey talking at this point.” You chuckled as you set the glass down.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Harry said.

“Is that a tattoo gun?” You ask, getting up and fetching the tattoo gun. A mischievous smile on your face. “Yes.” Harry said, his eyes wide in uncertainty. “Give me your hand.” You said, as you plugged in the gun into a power outlet. “I don’t think this is a good idea,”

“Shh Harry I know what I’m doing.”

You didn’t know what you were doing.

“Okay.”

You grab the gun and sit across him, thighs touching. You hold his right hand in yours and begin to tattoo half a heart on the outer part of his little finger. Harry watched you intently, brows sinched, your lower lip encased in your teeth as you carefully drew the heart.

“There.” You said once it was completed. Harry looked at you with an incredulous look, “half a heart?”

“Wait a second fuckface.” You said snorting as you the other half of the heart on your left little finger. “Give me your hand.” You said to him. Harry brought his hand next to yours and there it was, a full heart.

“We have matching tattoos.” You said, “wait, we have matching tattoos.” You repeated with a grievous tone. “HARRY WE HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS!” You exclaimed for the third time, bringing your hands to your face.

“You shouldn’t have let me use the gun.”

“You would’ve done it anyways idiot.” Harry mumbled rolling his eyes. “Besides, they’re not that bad if you look at it from a distance.” He said.

“I am pretty good at this though.” You said smugly, a smirk on your face.

“Yeah yeah wipe the smile off your face.” Harry said makinh a face at you that only made you smile wider.

You raise your hand to flick his nose but he catches your wrist in his hand. The smirk on your face faded and Harry looked at you with raised eyebrows as his hand slowly travelled to your elbow, tugging you close to him until you were almost but not fully in his lap.

“Want to try that again sweetheart?”

Everything happened far too quickly. You had lost the ability to comprehend the fact that you had reached such a juncture. You lean in, brushing your lips against his but not kissing. The fingers of your free hand trail the curve of his jaw and settle down at the base of his neck.

Harry chuckled and said “are you holding back Love?”

You look at him with glassy eyes as you remove his tee shirt. Your hands shaking and fumbling with every move. Harry removes your tee shirt hastily as if he were a hungry man begging on all fours for food. He wraps your legs around his torso and dips your backwards until the springs in the sofa begin to squeak. He cups your face in his hand, his thumbs encasing your face carefully. He kisses you. He kisses you until time topples over and you are sweeped by heavy oblivion.

“If you plan on fucking me, do it right now or else get out so I can make myself come.” You said. Harry smirked.

And then, he fucked you. He fucked you hard against the sofa, claiming you as his his. He buried himself in you again and again. Glorifying in the feel of you, your smell, your taste. He fisted his hand in your hand in your hair, holding you in place. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as sinful noises escaped your lips.

Your hands were wrapped around his hair, tugging harshly as you both felt your core muscles tighten. “Oh shit.” You whisper in his ear as you felt yourself uncoil slowly. Harry lolled his head back in his ecstasy as he reached his climax.

“Fuck, you make missionary feel good.” You said completely breathless. “That’s how you deserve to be fucked.” He said kissing you.

———————————————

“Oh my God you were fucking amazing!” Sarah said squealing as she hugged Harry.

Harry started touring again and this time, the whole world was familiar with him and his work. He was proud, he was proud of himself and his whole team but he couldn’t help missing you.

Harry and you had a certain arrangement for a while but both of you broke it off perhaps three months ago.

“Harry?” you called his name. Harry looked up at you, his eyes laden with a sheen of lust as he looked at you. “Yeah?” He asked you.

“I think we should stop.”

“Stop?”

“Hooking up i mean.” You muttered as you fiddled with the hem of Harry’s tee shirt you wore. Harry raised his eyebrows at your eyebrows at your words and rubbed his eyes.

“Why do you want to stop? I thought things were good.” Harry said, evidently confused with your behaviour. You had always been bold when it came to telling how you felt and what you wanted so seeing you like this, timid and quiet was a surprise to say the least.

“Look at us. Im wearing your tee shirt to bed, we talk all day, we’re always around each other and what not.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to catch feelings?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous. You know that i’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Harry. We’re different people. I don’t want to tie myself down to someone. You have your career ahead of you and I have mine.” You reasoned. Truth be told, you had predicted this conversation months ago.

“I think theres something more to this y/n. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing beyond what I said.”

“There is.”

“No there’s not.”

“Is it Luke?”

“No.”

“Stop with the curt answers and spit it out.”

“Oh fuck you Harry. I can’t deal with this right now.” You spat at him, visibly frustrated.

“It’s Luke isn’t it?”

“No it’s not. We hooked up a few times and that’s it and you shouldn’t even care. Why don’t you go and kiss Kendall’s ass like you always do.”

“What are you even trying to say? It’s impossible to have a conversation with you, Jesus.”

“You want a girlfriend. I can’t be one. You want someone who’ll kiss you out of the blue and cuddle you. I can’t be that person for you Harry so stop wasting your time with me.”

“Y/n listen to me-”

“Goodbye Harry.”

That was the last conversation he shared with you. He felt his heart clench at remembering the conversation that had taken between you two.

Harry saw Sarah rush to the door with a bright smile on her face. She was about to open the door but turned towards Harry after mumbling “oh shit.” under her breath.

“Harry.” She called out his name, drawing it out. “Yeah?”

“Y/n wants to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Harry felt his heart burn and his palms turn clammy.

“She’s outside.”

“What?” He exclaimed.

“Okay bye.” Sarah said rushing out the door.

Harry saw you stand outside the door, you hair loose and falling into straight waves with your eyes lined with your signature liner. You wore a short black dress that was sinched at your waist and fell losely at your hips with a pair or red cowboy boots.

“Hi Harry.” You said, your voice unwavering as you stood in the doorway.

“Y/n, i didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Before you say anything, I’m sorry. I was afraid and this is all so new to me. I fucked up i know. I was too caught up on being tough and not letting you in and what not…”

“Y/n it’s fine listen,”

“No shut up and listen to me first. I’m sorry and I like you, fuck I think it’s more than that and it’s important I get this off my chest. Okay you can speak now.”

“Fuck, get over here so I can kiss you.”

———————————

a/n: I’m yet to re read this so please excuse any typos. Interact with my work, leave me comments, let me know if you liked it! small interaction goes a long way guys! Love you <3

#harrys house #famous!harry #harry fanfic #harry imagine #harry x y/n #harry's house album #harry blurb #harry imagines #harry one direction #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction imagine

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fairyofsilence · 2 years

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THAT'S THE INDUSTRY, BABY | SERIES MASTERPOST |

Warning: This series is yandere themed and each story has individual warnings of their own, proceed with caution.

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout this series, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment, please proceed with caution.

Each part contains different warnings and word counts, this series is currently ongoing.

You can find my main masterlist here.

Bangtan Entertainment has grown into one of the biggest companies in the entertainment industry, having some of the greatest talents from South Korea under their belt, with an extensive range of artist going from music to filming to the modeling industry, get to know all about the most influential Bangtan artist here!

—FROM THE RKIVE MUSIC RECORDS:

“Kim Namjoon, the multi-talented producer who has taken the industry by storm, presents his most recent music project with Bangtan Entertainment’s new upcoming artist. Don't miss your chance to get a sneak peek at her debut - read here for all the details.” — RISING STAR | KIM NAMJOON [P: 04/22/2023] [E: 05/27/2023] [PART 1 OF 7]

“Orchestra conductor Min Yoongi talks about his latest masterpiece 'Prosperpine', and how he found his muse in the making of it, read more about his new opera here”. — A NIGHT AT THE OPERA | MIN YOONGI [COMING SOON] [PART 2 OF 7]

“If there’s one thing that we know about the world’s favorite rapper J-Hope it’s to expect the unexpected, and his latest album reveals the dark side of Jung Hoseok, a side that he reveals; ‘Never thought it existed until recently’. Check out all the details about his new album here!”. — HOPE MEETS EVIL | JUNG HOSEOK [COMING SOON] [PART 7 OF 7]

—FROM THE GOLDEN CLOSET FILM & PRODUCTIONS:

"Film prodigy Jeon Jungkook does it yet again, his latest movie '9 Bullets' receives a fifteen-minute standing ovation at Cannes Festival, but the director reveals that the mastermind behind this soon to be classic film it's none other than his talented screenwriter, learn more about her here!". — SMILE! YOU’RE ON CAMERA | JEON JUNGKOOK [COMING SOON] [PART 5 OF 7]

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—FROM VANTE'S PHOTOGRAPHY & MODELING WORLDWIDE:

"'BEHIND THE LENSE', we let the latest photography exhibition by the extravagant Vante speak for itself, but there's only one thing we can say about it: it's without a doubt, his best work yet. See more exclusive content here". — BEHIND HIS LENSE | KIM TAEHYUNG [COMING SOON] [PART 3 OF 7]

"Supermodel and brand ambassador Park Jimin reveals that 'makeup has definitely changed his life', and says that he has to thank his makeup artist for that, find out what his essentials are here!". — RUN(A)WAY | PARK JIMIN [COMING SOON] [PART 4 OF 7]

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dustedmagazine · 6 months

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Dust Volume 9, Number 11, Part 1

Niecey Blues

Where did the year go? Seems like only a week or two ago, we were scraping together a list of albums we had somehow missed out on in 2022. Now we’re about to do it again, I suppose, and the number of misses seems to grow larger every year. Still, we’re still shoveling away at what 2023 has brought so far—nouveau shoegaze and Vangelis synths, Michigan rap and free-improvised vibraphone. Check out this month’s Dust, the next to last for 2023, for music you might have overlooked. Contributors include Jennifer Kelly, Bryon Hayes, Ian Mathers, Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Ray Garraty, Justin Cober-Lake, Alex Johnson, Jim Marks, Christian Carey, Patrick Masterson and Tim Clarke.

Like last month, we'll be doing this in two parts, here's the second one.

Bedroom Eyes — Turned Away (Ala Carte)

Bedroom Eyes, from Boston, balance the churn and drift of shoegaze. This fourth LP (the last was in 2019) floats cool, slow-moving melodies over rackety barrages of feedbacked guitars and drums. Whether cuts like “Around” are still or in furious motion is an open question. It depends on where you focus. The title track manifests itself out of the slow buzz of feedback, bits of singing, guitar and percussion taking form out of a vibrating soup. It sounds, to me, like Simply Saucer or maybe the Telescopes, submerged by fuzz, suggested rather than stated. “Brood” runs harder, the guitar notes bending with volume like MBV’s did, but the singing remains untouched and serene. If it’s calm on the surface, that’s because Bedroom Eyes is paddling furiously underneath.

Jennifer Kelly

Cherry Cheeks — CCLPII (Total Punk)

Cherry Cheeks, from Portland, Oregon, crank a wired, anxiety-ridden garage punk, the short, sharp shock of guitar stabs running through nattering bass lines and the tremulous whinge of keyboard sounds. This second LP captures their rattled energy with more force and clarity than the debut. You can hear the negative space between bursts of aggression. And yet, the sound is much the same, an aura of dread punched up until it seems to dance. “Switch” is maybe the best cut here. It cuts and jabs in antic motion, organ dopplering off from a sing-along chorus. “Explode” is nearly as pop-slanted, hopping up and down on speed, but catchy. Cuts like “Data” and “Ad Shark” make fewer concessions to anthemic-ness, but prickle and clamor with antsy sarcasm. The future is bleak, but maybe kind of fun?

Jennifer Kelly

Buck Curran — The Long Distance (Obsolete Recordings)

Buck Curran is so interconnected with the guitar, it’s easy to forget that he plays other instruments. The Long Distance shows off his skill as a synthesist. Sweeping, Vangelis-like melodies are the focus of these poignant hymns, which rest upon a foundation of sizzling analog modulation. Emotions run deep on these recordings. Leveraging reminiscence as his muse, Curran called to mind familial and foundational memories, channeling them into these moving passages. Particularly effective is “Morning Song with Lucia,” on which he adds a lovely guitar melody inspired by his daughter. The pieces are relatively short, but Curran beefs up the length of the album by offering alternate versions of some tracks. Each take offers a unique emotional angle, and the subtleties evoke an echo-like effect. The Long Distance is a surprisingly pleasant shift in oeuvre from this talented instrumentalist.

Bryon Hayes

Great Lake Swimmers — Uncertain Country (Pheromone Recordings)

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It is a very white Canadian thing to wonder whether our regional equivalent of Americana should be called Canadiana or just folk (or maybe folk rock? indie folk?). Regardless of our typical dithering over local identity, Tony Dekker’s Great Lake Swimmers have been a mainstay and exemplar of the form for 20 years now. They’d be forgiven for resting on their laurels (or around here… pinecones?) but the restless, quietly gorgeous Uncertain Country doesn’t take anything for granted. Whether adding choral vocals on the graceful “Moonlight, Stay Above” or whipping up a surprisingly dense churn on the title track, the band’s eighth album is a showcase of what they do well. The effect is perhaps most powerful on songs like “Riverine” and “Swimming Like Flying” that feel equally at home in the concert hall or sung en masse around a campfire.

Ian Mathers

The Invisible Hands—The Big Minute (Abduction)

The Big Minute, the third official release by the Invisible Hands, comes a full eight years after its predecessor. Yeah, that is one big minute. Blame it on COVID, a revolving drummer’s chair, and the fact that Alan Bishop, the one American in this Cairo-based band, has a lot of other irons in the fire. The LP’s crisp, slightly trippy sound, and wide-open but particular repertoire establishes the Invisible Hands as the biggest fish in a very small pond; can you name any other Egyptian psychedelic garage bands from with a thing for 50-year-old soundtracks? I thought not. While Bishop’s aesthetic clearly points the way, this is a band. For every one of his signature moves, there’s also a moment when it’s Cherif El Masri’s encyclopedic guitar licks, Ayawasqa’s scrappy Arabic singing, and Adham Zidan’s arrangements and production that sells the song. If you have read this far, yeah, you should give it a minute.

Bill Meyer

The Inward Circles — Before We Lie Down in Darkness (Corbel Stone Press)

Scottish composer Richard Skelton’s previous work as The Inward Circles involves subjecting clean recordings of strings to all nature of electronic and physical destruction to portray decay and environmental collapse. On his first album in six years, Skelton manipulates a six-second fragment of Baroque recorder music taken from the run-out groove of a battered 50-year-old vinyl recording. From this already degraded source he builds haunted soundscapes that to tap into something primordial and timeless. To call them drones does a disservice to the depth of nuance and detail in Skelton’s music. He captures something elemental within layers of sound built like geological strata trapping a record of growth and death, of destruction and recovery. Before We Lie Down in Darkness is a powerfully evocative elegy to the earth and warning to its inhabitants.

Andrew Forell

Lando Bando — Family Business (The Hip Hop Lab Records)

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The Hip Hop Lab’s CEO Lando Bando brought together Michigan rappers close to his studio for this tape. Family Business showcases the state of things in Michigan. That state is not great, by the way, but it’s not bad either. Quite a lot of clumsy rapping on here, and a few cuts should have been left out. Still, it shows that all three ShittyBoyz members are in excellent shape, and Lando deserves our highest appreciation for scoring not one but two Rio da Yung Og’s verses. The highlight here is “Dirty Pop,” an unexpected collaboration between Rio and StanWill on a Danny G beat.

Ray Garraty

Lau Nau – Aphrilis (Beacon Sound/Fonal)

Finnish composer Lau Nau (also known as Laura Naukkarinen) tends to make slow-moving music, but, this year at least, she makes it fast. Aphrilis marks her second release of the year, following spring's 5 x 4. She spent years developing that release, focusing on equipment (Buchla 200 modular synthesizer) and time-signature (5/4). With Aphrilis, she returns to a meditation on time and place (something her past field recordings have captured so well) through mostly acoustic instrumentation. The album opens with “April,” as both instruments and vocals suggest the opportunities of that month's bright beginnings. The mood continues into “Kielet on viritetty tuuleen,” with Hermanni Yli-Tepsa's violin providing the linear guide through the accessible yet intricate composition. The album builds off these initial expressions, settling into a sense of home that remains expansive, the unusual instrumentation — including celesta and jouhikko among other unnamed “various instruments” — maintaining a very specific sound. Múm's Samuli Kosminen produces, and the fit makes sense even as Lau Nau captures a melodic ambience in a specific setting, adding flow while mixing synthetic and acoustic sounds. The album closes with “Seitsemäs taivas,” which might mean “seventh heaven” but sounds more like the start of autumn, tracing an emotional arc throughout Aphrilis. The belief in hope lingers, the brightness reshaped into an iterative composition that finally yields to something colder but never foreboding.

Justin Cober-Lake

MJ Lenderman — And the Wind (Live and Loose!) (Anti- )

Not exactly starched and buttoned-up to begin with, Jake “MJ” Lenderman and Co. come out even more ragged and rangy on the new live album And The Wind (Live and Loose!). The 15 tracks, recorded at gigs in Chicago and Los Angeles, are drawn almost exclusively from last year’s Boat Songs and 2021’s Ghost of Your Guitar Solo, and aren’t so much reimagined in front of their audiences as revved up and deepened. A few telling moments: Lenderman’s voice finds a lower pit of wistfulness in the sighing line “I know why we get so fucked up/I do” from “TLC Cagematch”; “Knockin” – in its third recorded iteration – gets an extra few roaring seconds and snarling decibels added to its big, heart-on-sleeve conclusion; the heavy drum fills and pugilistic blasts of guitar that end “SUV” veer closer to chaos. The band’s showcase, though, comes near the end on an extended jam of “You Are Every Girl To Me,” where the players, led by the points of light spinning off of Xandy Chelmis’ pedal steel and shredding lead guitarist Jon Samuels, rip out any remaining seams before easing back down for Lenderman to make introductions. And if you haven’t met them yet, And The Wind is a good place to start.

Alex Johnson

Mac J – I Shoulda Been Dropped This (TrueStoryEnt)

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Mac J’s been lazy lately. His recent tapes sound as if he’s only put one third of his talent in his music. I Shoulda Been Dropped This, sadly, is no exception. He’s desperately trying to make his sound more mainstream and less street. Instead of crazy punchlines, witticisms and gritty reality, we get banalities and half-assed street ballads with Mac J on Auto-Tune almost on every song. It’s a wonder how “Engine Ina Trunk,” his track with another California resident Philthy Rich, even made it to this tape. It’s the old good rapping-his-ass-off Mac J, hungry for rhymes and punching you in the guts with every line. Except for this song, he shouldn’t been dropped this.

Ray Garraty

#dust #dusted magazine #bedroom eyes #jennifer kelly #cherry cheeks #great lakes swimmers #ian mathers #the invisible hands #bill meyer #the inward circles #andrew forell #lando bando #ray garraty #lau nau #justin cober-lake #mj lenderman #alex johnson #mac j

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ruki--mukami · 2 years

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(tw) Over the years your brothers died which left you living alone in the mansion. Yuma’s garden is now dead, Azusa’s knives are collecting dust and Kou left behind a bunch of things from his idol years. The mansion is completely silent and dead compared to how it was before.

“Ah… These knives. They’re completely tarnished, and some have even oxidized. The blades that once shone were so beautiful, and now it has completely rusted,” he mused as he brought a finger over the dulled edge, checking for its sharpness without a care for his own well-being. “If Azusa was still here, then perhaps my finger would’ve bled by now. Surely he would gawk at the sight of his own eldest brother doing the very thing be scolded him to refrain from doing. He loved these knives, even if inflicting pain on himself made me livid… I would rather spend my days upbraiding him and worrying over his health than wallow in his absence.”

After departing Azusa’s room, he walked down the hall before arriving at a room that didn’t particularly belong to one brother but would’ve once provided a magnificent view of the garden with its large windows. When Ruki looked out, he saw nothing but a barren wasteland of wilted flowers, all its petals littered across the dirt and mulch.

“The crops that once flourished were so abundantly green and vibrant, Yuma. Now it has all decayed into a sable abyss. I cannot even remember which flowers used to grow there… all of the fallen petals are black and shriveled. If you were still here, you wouldn’t hesitate to boast about the various species of plants growing here,” he mumbled to himself as a he placed a splayed hand against the glass, lost in nostalgia. “Every summer you would lose your temper over the wild rabbits and birds that visited your garden to sate their own appetite. Now those same animals wouldn’t even dare to come close. If anything, it must be a breeding site for termites as I speak. What a pity…”

Finally, Ruki turned away from the window, withdrawing his hand only to gaze upon an old costume Kou once wore for a debut concert in Tokyo all those decades ago. Grasping the garment with a lazy grip, the eldest sat down on the sofa, back leaned against the upholstery deep in contemplation.

“I was never one for loud, congested places… but I knew how much this performance meant to you, Kou. You wouldn’t stop talking about this concert for days,” he said brushing a thumb over the sequins of the jacket, all of which had lost their luster. “Sometimes I can still hear the sound of your voice in my head. Truth be told, your music never appealed to my tastes… but I would do anything to see and hear you perform once more if it meant you were alive again.”

Standing up from the couch, the Vampire took one of his brother’s albums and placed the CD in a nearby music player, setting the volume to a moderate level. Immediately, Kou’s joyous voice resounded from the speakers, emitting a cheerful atmosphere to an otherwise gloomy and decrepit Mukami manor covered in cobwebs and layers upon layers of dust. As he reminisced on old, yet cherished memories of his brothers, Ruki sat back down. No tears fell, but his face collapsed into his large, quaking hands, back bent over and shoulders raised and rounded into a lamented position of utter misery.

“Kou… Yuma… Azusa… Life has no meaning without the three of you. Eve has already chosen her Adam, and Karlheinz-sama has already passed on his legacy… Why hasn’t death claimed me as well? Each and every day here in this empty mansion is spent caring for myself and myself alone. There is no one else to share my meals with, no boisterous bickering filling the halls, no more family, and certainly no place to call ‘home.’ After all, there is no home without the three of you. Death shall smite me one day… and when that time comes, we will all be together again.”

#diabolik lovers #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #ask #react #diabolik lovers rp #kou mukami #mukami kou #yuma mukami #mukami yuma #azusa mukami #mukami azusa #tw

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junecast-moonfast · 6 months

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hello hello!!! sorry i had a busy monday ahah

i'm very happy you liked count basie's album :^) i hope you liked mel tormé too! i'm sorry i couldn't listen to the artists you recommended yet, i'm very busy and tired when i get home :^(

ahah very interesting, i didnt know about roxy lalonde and homestuck, it seems cute! i've never listened to roxy music either though i know a bit brian eno (he made the soundtrack for a video game i used to play when i was younger: spore)

i got into classic rock thanks to my brother. my parents used to listen to older music but it was mainly french songs (i'm french!) ; so my brother had an ipod with music like blue suede shoes by elvis, imagine by john lennon and famous songs like these and i liked them a lot :^) what made me really into the beatles at first (and then other bands) was because i looked into my mother's records and there was a 7-inch with yellow submarine and i was like: that sounds so fun and cool!!! and that was it, i went on youtube and listened to whatever beatles' song i could find. i also made friend with other beatlemaniacs my age on the internet. i sometimes miss that time, it was pure and cute :^)

i think my fav albums by pink floyd and the beatles are maybe atom heart mother and abbey road!

have you seen one of your fav musician live? have you been to concerts?

see you later, it's always a pleasure to talk with you :^)

Don’t worry about it! Yesterday was busy for me so I couldn’t get around to answering, so I understand :D Also don’t worry if you can’t get around to my recommendations, this is a very busy time of year so I totally get it!

I checked out Lady Be Good by Mel Torme and I really liked it! The only other musician I listen to who uses scat singing is Christian Vander of Magma, so it was really fun to hear a different take on the technique!

Spore was where I first heard Brian Eno’s work too! (Or maybe it was the Windows 95 startup sound? Maybe not since I grew up with Vista). It’s funny because when I first got into his music I didn’t realize he made the soundtrack for Spore, so when I did find out I was shocked haha! I always love it when I get into a musician, only to find out that I’ve heard their music before. It sorta feels like it was fate that I’d find them again :]

I can definitely relate to yearning for early bandom days. I wish I could go back to a time where my biggest worry was getting home from school so I could make memes about The Beatles haha

Also I love Atom Heart Mother and Abbey Road as well, those are some solid choices!

I’ve only been to two concerts. One of those was for a musician I didn’t really know, but my friends liked so I went with them. Yungblood I think it was? I honestly don’t remember much about him lol. The other concert was Muse, which is a band I do know and enjoy! I’m not too involved in the Muse fandom, but I do really like their music, especially their earlier albums. The concert was amazing too! The band members have a really great stage presence :] How about you? Have you been to any concerts? :D

It’s always great to talk with you! I hope you have a great day/night :]

#srs23

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thepermanentrainpress · 10 months

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UNDER THE RADAR: JULY 2023

July’s Under The Radar is our kind of Vancouver Special. Check out these summer releases from SaBand, Haley K Turner, Fake Shark, Not Sisters, Hillsboro, and Jonah Ocean!

1) SaBand - “We Don’t Like The Sun”

"We Don’t Like The Sun” is apprehensive and callous as it explores the “frustration and rage” of a strained relationship between father and son. I liken it to a dramatic garage rock song that has the smashing guitar solo and danceability, but a layered emotional core. It delves into the presence of an absentee parent while referencing ideals and ancient rituals (Mr. Righteous and “dance with Dionysus”); their enigmatic approach bears a rousing factor all on its own. The ultimate disappointment is heavy, but not surprising (“You failed to read my gaze / your smile remains”). SaBand does an excellent job in the sound department, working with producer Felix Fung to form a frenetic yet matured energy. The back half of the track really shines as the sorrows intensify. We care more than we like to admit when it comes to family.

The band’s new album What You Paid For is out now.

Written by: Chloe Hoy

2) Haley K Turner - “Can’t Find Her”

Haley K Turner’s latest single, “Can’t Find Her,” takes aim at disposable dating culture – a harsh reality for many. The alt-folk tune was recorded with Juno-nominated producer Tom Dobrzanski (The Zolas, Said the Whale), and is an amalgam of piano, guitars, and orchestral strings with uplifting intensity. Turner addresses those who abandon a relationship for the excitement of someone new, asking what happens when the cycle doesn’t repeat. Her voice has a timeless quality to it, weaving in and out of empowerment and heartache.

Turner grew up in Kelowna and as I currently reside in the city, I can’t help but assume her imagery alludes to the unfortunate but oft Okanagan wildfires. It adds a personal touch to music that is textured, relatable and gentle; the essence of being human.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

3) Fake Shark - “Bummer Summer”

“Bummer Summer” is a bit of a self-inflicted pity party; the repercussions of burning every bridge at the solitary forefront.

It is concise but eye-catching. Eerie falsetto, a deepening hook and even rawer lyricism harbour a sense of longing throughout. While some of the band’s recent releases showcase more jangled, electronic-inspired sounds, their knack for shout-along punk and tight musicianship remain unmatched. “I used to be so much stronger / now I hang onto pain like it’s worth something,” frontman Kevin “Kevvy Mental” Maher sings with nonchalance. Billed as an anti-song of the summer, “Bummer Summer” drips with intrigue and sarcasm—a tragedy of one’s own doing.

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Written by: Natalie Hoy

4) Not Sisters - “Shades of Blue”

Online dating can be a tumultuous time as alluded to in “Shades of Blue.” The bedroom pop duo, comprised of vocalist Amanda Doucette and producer/multi-instrumentalist Tom Maguire, revels in the anticipation of a new flame and the brooding repetition of nights alone. It has a bubblegum sound but does offer lyrical depth beyond the lighthearted exterior (“I was trying to beat fate / cause this sh*t’s never calibrated in my favour”). Recalling a “rough four to five months” in Doucette’s past, the song muses over the prospects of love found and lost, unfortunate timing, and what it could mean for the future. Her vocals are playful, at times layered as inner thoughts are expressed. Their music is modern and fun while amplifying how our feelings can permeate into all aspects of our life—especially where hearts are involved.

Their self-produced debut EP Feelings Make Us Human is out now.

Written by: Chloe Hoy

5) Hillsboro - “Exit Plan”

I love a good west coast introduction—having not been familiar with Victoria’s Hillsboro prior to their pitch email, I am now well sold on their grungy, indie pop rock marriage. Lead vocalist and guitarist Nima Walker’s own tortured past is at the core of their upcoming debut record, reflective of his “newfound intoxication with self-ruin” at the start of the pandemic. “Exit Plan” is the pain; actions and thoughts driven by destructive tendencies and delirium. It lacks pleasure and redemption while unraveling with alarming ease (“No sleep with all the noise and speed / Just find me when you want to leave”). Their sound is distorted vibrancy, reaching for resolve amidst agitation at every corner.

A forewarning of the shame and anguish associated with self-loathing and longing, with the essence of 90′s alternative, “Exit Plan” is devoted to their burden. I feel saddened by the lived gloom, but hopeful knowing Walker’s recognition of his limitations burned a gritty path forward. The band’s album will be released on September 15.

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Written by: Chloe Hoy

6) Jonah Ocean - “Heaven”

Gorgeous choral harmonies open Jonah Ocean’s “Heaven” – as much a feeling as it is a place. Floating synths and grooving guitars form the melody; a drum knocks like a heartbeat. Akin to a breezy summer night, “Heaven” portrays the euphoria felt from music and from sharing that experience with others (“Hold me just like I was in the womb / Like god was in the room”). Jonah has a diploma in jazz/contemporary guitar, also integrating pop, rnb, and a killer croon. Lush and imaginative; desire without worry. You can’t get much closer to a moment than this.

Written by: Natalie Hoy

#Under The Radar #music #new music #Not Sisters #SaBand #Amanda Doucette #Tom Maguire #Hillsboro #Haley K Turner #Canadian Music #Vancouver #yvr #Vancouver Music #Chloe #Natalie #Fake Shark #Jonah Ocean

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blu-joons · 3 years

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When They Come Home And Find You Asleep On The Sofa ~ The Boyz Reaction

Sangyeon:

As soon as he saw you laid out across the sofa, Sangyeon’s serious side came out, approaching you quickly to try and move your body into a more comfortable position.

“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” he frowned, relaxing your limbs so they sat properly.

Under Sangyeon’s movement, your inquisitive eyes soon opened to see what was going on. “What are you doing?” You asked as his hands moved your leg up to the sofa.

“I’m taking care of you,” he smiled widely, tapping against your leg before letting go. “I can already predict that you’re going to be crying out for a massage in the morning.”

“What about now? My back feels like it’s been kicked to pieces.”

As angry as he was, Sangyeon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why do you always do this to yourself?”

“I wanted to see you,” you mused, turning so that you were laying on your back, only to feel Sangyeon’s hands began to attack the small of it. “I was only joking about the massage.”

His head shook, ignoring what you had to say, “I know your back is hurting you, your face always gives it a way. Just a quick one, and then I’ll take you to actual bed.”

“You’re too good to me,” you complimented, pursing your lips together at the relief you felt under Sangyeon’s touch, running gently along the length of your back.

“You tried to stay up for me, this is the least I could do.”

Jacob:

The moment his eyes fell on you, his heart stopped, covering his mouth with his hand as a soft coo escaped at the way you snuggled up to one of the sofa cushions.

“Well, this is quite the dilemma,” he muttered, trying to figure out what to do with you on the sofa.

Jacob took a few steps forwards, moving a second cushion to your side for you to rest on. “I know how horrible you get whenever you get woken up from a nap.”

“But on the other hand, I know you’ll be angry at me tomorrow when all your bones hurt,” he sighed, “you’ve really left me in the middle of a losing battle.”

“Your too sleepy to even care about that though, aren’t you?”

His eyes looked to you once he’d finished rearranging. “Before you hate me, just know I love you.”

“Actually, I do love you a lot,” he continued to mumble, deciding to take a seat on the floor just beside your head. “I proper don’t tell you that enough really.”

His hand then moved across to run over the top of your head, “I hate seeing you sleep, because your so quiet, but it’s god to know that you’re getting rest too.”

“I should probably rest too,” he continued to chatter, staring at your sleeping figure, “but now I face the dilemma of deciding where to sleep too.”

“Jacob, do you plan on letting me get any sleep tonight?”

Younghoon:

His arms swept you up in an instant as Younghoon walked in to find you asleep on the sofa, keen to get you comfortable in bed as quickly as he possibly could.

“I keep telling you not to wait up for me,” he scolded, carrying you carefully up the stairs to bed.

As he reached the final step, your body slowly began to stir in his hold. “Hoon?” You muttered, moving your hand to rest against his chest, confirming it was him.

“Don’t worry, go back to sleep,” he simply assured you as he turned into your bedroom, “I wish you would’ve come straight up here when you started to get tired down there.”

“I wanted to stay up and see you, make sure you were alright.”

A gentle chuckle escaped him, “I’m alright, glad to be home and back with you at least now.”

“Tell me about your day,” you requested as you felt him lay your figure down on the bed, still unable to bring your eyes to open. “I want to hear all about it.”

Once he was sure you were settled, Younghoon stepped away, changing his shirt. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it in the morning when you’re a little more awake and attentive.”

“Give me a minute and I can wake up,” you called out, but the feeling of the duvet being thrown over your body quickly silenced you once again.

“Sleep, my stories can wait until tomorrow.”

Hyunjae:

As he knelt beside your face, Jaehyun couldn’t help but pull his phone out, knowing this was the perfect weapon to use against you at some point when he needed it.

“So cute,” he whispered as he opened up his camera, hearing you yelp as he pressed to snap.

Your hands covered your eyes as Jaehyun’s flash went off, noticing his wide eyes as he realised what had happened. “Please tell me you didn’t just take a photo of me.”

“I thought you looked cute, but also thought my flash wasn’t on either,” he confessed, quickly hiding his phone out of your reach, “your awake now anyway.”

“If I wasn’t so tired right now, I would beat you up for that.”

His head shook, resting his hand over yours. “How come you couldn’t stay up tonight for me?”

“I’m knackered,” you confessed, not even trying to be subtle. “My boss had been running around doing so much paperwork, if I even see a book, I’m going to lose my mind.”

He leant forwards pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose, “shall I carry you up to bed? At least you can get some proper rest up there?”

“As long as you do everything, I’m far too tired to move,” you requested of him, “and that includes deleting that picture that you just tried to take of me too.”

“Damn, I was hoping that would go in the payback album.”

Juyeon:

His heart skipped a beat as he walked in to see the ending screen of the stream of the concert still on your phone, with it dropped to the floor by the sofa.

“How did I know you’d be watching,” he smiled, picking your phone up and checking over it.

His hand pressed against your forehead, brushing the hair out of your face. As he did, a small hum came from you in response to his presence in the room with you.

“How are you doing?” He asked as you slowly came round, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “I hope you didn’t fall asleep before our stage came on?”

“No, I managed to stay awake to at least watch that bit.”

His head shook at how exhausted you were, “shall I ask what you thought, or are you too tired?”

“It’s fine,” you whispered, slowly sitting yourself up to make room for Juyeon to sit beside you. “But you know that I’m always a big fan of all your shows anyway, that never changes.”

He carefully sat down, giving you the space that you needed to wake yourself up properly. “I’m glad you enjoyed the stage; you didn’t need to watch it though.”

“It doesn’t matter how tired I get, I always want to stay up and watch you perform,” you quickly assured him, “I am your biggest fan after all, remember?”

“Of course, how could I ever forget that?”

Kevin:

His smile grew as soon as he spotted you with your head resting into his jumper that he’d thrown on the sofa just before he left the house earlier that day.

“I knew you’d try and steal it,” he joked, taking a few steps closer to see you were in fact asleep.

He couldn’t believe it, sitting down beside your figure. “Your too stubborn for your own good,” he scolded, falling silent as your body shuffled and your eyes slowly opened.

“How dare you,” you spoke up, letting him know that you’d heard every word that he had to say to you. “I thought I’d be nice and stay up, and this is the thanks I get.”

“Well, you’ve hardly stayed up, have you? You were fast asleep.”

Your hand reached out to push gently against his chest, “it’s the thought that counts, so be quiet.”

“Now that I’m home, and your awake, shall we head up to bed?” Kevin suggested, but your head shook, gripping tighter onto his comfortable jumper that you’d been using for some time.”

Your hand hit him yet again as his eyes rolled. “You must be exhausted too, maybe we should just camp out on the sofa for the night,” you proposed, “you look a state.”

“Thanks a lot,” he teased, knowing that you were messing with him, “do I at least get my jumper to sleep with in case I get a little bit cold through the night.”

“No, this is mine now, you’re going to have to find another.”

New:

His arm snaked around your waist as Chanhee made himself comfortable behind your figure on the sofa. For a few moments, he managed to sleep, until you began to wake up.

“Chan?” You whispered, waiting until he hummed to know he was awake. “You can’t sleep here>”

His head shook back at you, “I can. You looked far too peaceful to even try and disturb you, and there was no way I was going to sleep upstairs knowing you were here.”

“But your body,” you whined, feeling the grip that he had wrapped around you tighten. “You’ll be in pieces tomorrow, and that’ll be all my fault too.”

“I decided to sleep on the sofa Y/N, none of this is your fault.”

Your eyes rolled at how argumentative he was, “let’s go up to bed at least now we’re both awake.”

“No,” he chuckled, making sure that you stayed where you were. “You’re comfortable, and so the last thing I want to do right now is even try and move you up from the sofa.”

Another groan escaped from you, “just know, when you show up at the studio tomorrow morning all sore, I am taking zero responsibility for all your aches and pains.”

“Deal,” he teased, pressing a kiss against the back of your head. “Now, close your eyes back up and get some rest, you need your beauty sleep for tomorrow.”

“As long as you get some rest too, and try not to hurt too much tomorrow.”

Just as Changmin took a step back, convinced that he’d managed to get you up to bed without waking you up, your eyes fluttered open, surprised as to where you were.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, just about managing to register that Changmin was there.

He moved back towards you, taking a tight hold of your hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I just knew how mad you’d be if I left you on the sofa all night long.”

“I’m glad you moved me,” you assured him, moving along the bed to make space for him to sit beside you. “I’m just sorry that I didn’t stay awake to greet you.”

“I did notice the coffee mugs on the table, you must’ve tried hard.”

Your head nodded back at him, “you’re lucky I’m not on cloud nine right now with all that caffeine.”

“If you stay awake for much longer, you just might be,” he warned you, “go back to sleep if you want, I just need to wash up and then I’ll come and join you to rest.”

Your head nodded, reluctantly letting your hand slip out of yours. “Don’t be too long though, I don’t want to fall asleep on you again without saying goodnight.”

“You won’t even know I’m gone,” he grinned, rushing across into the adjoining bathroom whilst you made yourself more comfortable in bed.

“I can already feel myself getting sleepy, get a wriggle on.”

Juhaknyeon:

He couldn’t believe what he saw before him as he walked into the apartment, spotting your figure curled up into a ball on the sofa, light snores escaping.

“How?” Was all Haknyeon could say as he walked further in, inspecting just how sleepy you were.

After texting just fifteen minutes ago to let you know that he was on his way home, you’d somehow managed to drift off to sleep, unaware of him even entering the house.

“Y/N,” he whispered, gently shaking your shoulder to try and wake you up. As you stirred, his voice spoke up once again, “I thought you’d be excited to have me home.”

“I was, I am, I told myself I’d only shut my eyes for thirty seconds.”

Your voice was groggy, widening the smile on his face. “You shouldn’t have waited in that case.”

“I promised when you left the house this morning that I’d wait up for,” you sighed, quickly covering your mouth as a yawn escaped, “I kind of kept to that promise too.”

His eyes rolled, stepping forwards to press a kiss to the top of your head, “you tried your best, and I appreciate that, even though you didn’t need to in this state.”

“I’m not that tired,” you whined, trying to sit yourself up, only for your body to fall straight back down, “but can we go to bed, because you probably need the rest?”

“Of course, but secretly, I know you need the rest too.”

Sunwoo:

Tired arms wrapped around your tired figure, careful with every movement as Sunwoo carried you off of the sofa, glancing across at the clock with a sigh.

“If you didn’t look so cute, I’d be mad right now,” he giggled to himself, admiring your sleeping face.

Yet, as he went to spin away from the sofa, the sound of your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Your home?” You questioned, instantly picking up on Sunwoo’s voice.

“I’m home,” he established, carrying on with his walk towards your bedroom. “Go back to sleep, I promise I’ll have you laying back down in a minute, back with your dreams.”

“You broke my dream; I was dreaming of you and I as well.”

Sunwoo was thankful you couldn’t see the red glow on his cheeks, “I’m sure you can go back to it.”

“Why?” You whispered, snuggling tightly into his chest as he walked, “I have you here now, I don’t need to dream about you anymore.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your tired voice, “you can have the real thing tomorrow, but your tired, and as hard as it is to say no to you, I know that rest is the most important thing right now.”

“I guess I’ll dream of you for now instead,” you responded, scrunching your eyes tightly shut. Sunwoo’s head nodded, smile wide at your expression.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of sweet dreams of me.”

Eric:

As he walked into your apartment to hear the television still playing, Youngjae was excited to see you, until he noticed you fast asleep, laid out on the sofa.

“One day you won’t fall asleep watching this drama,” he chuckled, grabbing the remote to pause it.

As the room fell silent, he reached across to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa. “At least look after yourself if you’re going to fall asleep before I get home too.”

“I was watching that,” your voice suddenly mumbled, stirring at the feeling of the material draped over your body. “Why did you turn it off, it was getting to a good bit.”

“Don’t even try and convince me that you were awake then.”

Your eyes slowly opened, staring up at Youngjae. “I closed my eyes for a couple of minutes, I swear.”

“Such a liar,” he scoffed, refusing to believe a word that you said. “If I asked you to tell me one thing that happened in that episode, would you be able to tell me?”

You paused for a moment, but as you thought back, your memory failed you. “Alright, so maybe I was asleep for a while, but only because I was waiting for you.”

“Which I always tell you not to do,” he smiled, kneeling down beside you, “you’ll hurt yourself one day falling asleep on the sofa like this, waiting up all night.”

“It would be worth it though to see you.”

---

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“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?

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

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

Meeting | Sam Wilson x gn!reader

request: "I thought I'd lost you" With Sam Wilson please?

I love him very much 😔 - anonymous

summary: you're late to meet your boyfriend, and he can't help but to worry a little

pronouns used: they/them

warnings: swearing

Sam felt panicked as he looked around the busy and bustling streets, his eyes wide as he searched for you; you were meant to meet him by Nelson & Murdock half an hour ago and yet you had not shown up, which he would've thought would be down to the busses running late as usual, but you always texted if that was the case, and he was starting to grow worried.

He knew your connections with Frank Castle and Marc Spector, that alone would have been a good enough excuse for some piece of shit to hurt you, but you were also Sam's significant other, and with him being Captain America, that increased the risk of such thing; with you being Captain America's significant other, though, that also meant a lot of pressure from the media, and he wondered if you had been cornered by the paparazzi or by some journalist who wanted a cheap picture and an interview.

Checking his phone again, Sam saw that there were no new notifications from you; a couple from Daredevil about where to buy the best scented candles that wouldn't harm his senses, a few from the group chat from Thor about some new heavy metal album that had come out that he was excited about. Licking his lips, Sam could feel his mouth was growing dry from the worry as he looked around again.

Where the fuck are they?

He was starting to really panic, until he finally laid his eyes on you; as you approached, he noticed that you looked absolutely fine, a little tired and a little annoyed, but otherwise fine, and he couldn't help but to smile as he let out a sigh of relief. When you sat down beside him and passed him a coffee, he tilted his head.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah," you breathed out. "It's fucking bullshit, this absolute dick was taking ages ordering because he kept having a go at the lad behind the tills. I wanted to kick his teeth in."

Sam smiled as he nodded, bringing the coffee to his lips and taking a swig. "What did you do?"

You scratched your jaw as you hummed softly. "I made sure to give the lad what cash I could spare... wasn't a lot, but I made sure it went to his pocket."

So that's why they were late. Sam laid his arm across the back of the bench and looked at you so fondly. "I was getting worried. I thought I'd lost you."

You scoffed, getting close enough to him that he could bend his arm so it laid across your shoulders. "Gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me, Sam."

"I hope so, I want you here as long as you'll stay," he admitted. "You didn't get stopped, did you?"

"By the press?" You shook your head. "Thankfully fucking not. I think they're more concerned with the latest bullshit everyone else is pulling to bother me about our relationship."

Sam nodded, letting his coffee rest between his legs as he dared to take out the ear bud from your ear and place it in your own, nodding his head slowly at the song. "Sister Rosetta."

"Always a good choice," you said.

"Always a good choice," he confirmed with a hum. But then he perked up a little, clearing his throat. "I forgot to tell you, but the zoo wants me to go down next week."

"Oh, yeah?" Your interest perked up a little. "What for?"

"They want me to give a talk on snakes," he explained, "and the dangers of invasive species."

"You'll have to let me know what day it is," you told him. "I'll book it free so I can go with you."

"For moral support or so you can handle some snakes?" He asked, both amused and curious.

"I can do both," you mused. "I can hold a San Francisco garter snake and give me boyfriend moral support."

#mlem writes #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x yn #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #captain america fic #captain america fluff #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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2jaeh · 3 years

Text

SESSIONS | LUCAS WONG

genre: fluff, mature themes,

warnings: suggestive grinding, groping

Words: 1,5k

You’re WayVs assistant and you’re incredibly whipped for their charismatic rapper after he stole a steamy kiss from you a year ago.

——————————————————————————

You went through your schedule frantically, realizing that you needed to be somewhere right now. Most of of the staff rooms were empty and you couldn’t find any of the NCT boys anywhere. Being an assistant manager for WayV at SM seemed like a dream job but why have the past couple of months been literal hell ?

SM had hired you to watch over the WayV unit during the resonance promotions seeing as you were the most capable at mandarin than the rest of the assistants, and frankly the only one who hadn’t complained about their recklessness or the farm that was developing at their dorm.

The only issue with being assigned to WayV right now was an attachment to one of the members you wish you’d forgotten. Wong Yukhei, or better known by his stage name Lucas. Ever since you laid eyes on him you felt giddy, like a school girl going through her first crush.

Lucas was so nice to you from the very beginning. He made you comfortable enough to joke around them and always treated you like a friend rather than an employee. The problem though started at SM’s Christmas party a year back.

“Y/n what are you doing here ?” He said, that familiar grin spread across his face as he approached you.

“Hey-y I’m just getting some fresh air” you had responded shyly, leaning against the wall as his huge frame stood in front of you.

You couldn’t remember much of how the rest of the conversation went but you do remember at some point Lucas had pinned you against the wall and kissed you. You remembered his large hands grope your thighs as he groaned into the kiss, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He smelled like tequila and his usual Tom Ford cologne, having him that close was intoxicating. You also remembered when it came to an end, his band mate Yangyang had shouted for him, and Lucas’s last words to you that night was “let me know if you wanna do that again sometime.”

After that night he moved on like nothing happened. It’s not like he didn’t talk to you but he had completely erased that you two had shared an intimate moment together. You hated that after that night your feelings for him had only escalated and unfortunately you couldn’t do anything about that.

You dragged your feet across the floor as you made your way over to the recording studio as that’s where your schedule needed you to be right now. WayV was recording their individual track for the resonance album and you had to make sure all their needs during recording were met.

Opening the door you were greeted by WinWin and Xiaojun, WinWin in the booth and Xiaojun on the couch memorizing his lines.

You playfully nudged him as you took your seat, “you need any snacks or water ?”

“I’m good thanks, the producer just got us drinks too” Xiaojun smiled sweetly.

You nodded and slumped into the couch as he now took his turn and WinWin waved you a goodbye before leaving the studio. Something in you hoped that you missed Lucas’s recording, but a little part of you didn’t.

You got your answer pretty soon when the door flung open and Lucas walked in, sporting a simple black tank top and jeans. His hair was pushed out of his face and he wore clear spectacles. He was effortlessly hot and he knew it.

You had no idea how long you were checking him out but Lucas had noticed and waved his hand in front of your face.

“Hey you” he giggled and awaited a high 5 from you.

You pressed your lips together and hi5ed him, hating that he was still so nice instead of being a dick about the whole situation. Lucas was cocky but not in the way where he would’ve boasted about kissing you or mocked your little crush on him. But it still hurt how normal he was. It hurt so much.

“Alright Lucas we’ll take it from your verse” the producer said as Lucas stepped into the booth and placed the headphones on his head.

He sucked in his lip as his eyebrows knitted together, reading the words before nodding his head to the music that began to fade in.

You knew about their song Nectar. The words, the innuendos, the whole message behind it and it didn’t surprise you that the boys were quite excited to perform this song.

Lucas was his usual playful self, dancing along to the beat and just having fun with the recording. You unconsciously bit down on your lip as Lucas lifted up his shirt in order to feel the cool breeze of the a/c, still dancing along to the beat.

“Great stuff man, hey I’m gonna go meet with the main producers real quick I’ll be back in an hour or so” the producer turned back to you and you nodded.

Suddenly there was an uncomfortable tension in the air as Lucas emerged from the booth and grabbed a bottle of water from the coffee table. You watched as he downed the whole bottle, the veins in his neck became prominent as he swallowed.

You diverted your attention to your phone, hoping he didn’t catch you staring or notice your reddened ears.

“What did you think ?” Lucas asked as he took a seat on the coffee table in front of you, wiping away the small beads of sweat from his forehead.

You looked up at him, “of what...?”

“My recording, stupid” he chuckled and playfully knocked his knee against yours.

“Oh it was good” you replied shyly, his eyes were practically burning into yours as he talked.

Lucas sat back placing his hands behind him for support and spread his legs as he cocked his head to the side.

“I thought you liked me...is it just good?”

“Huh w-what I don’t like you...what” you were a stuttering mess as you tried to compose yourself.

Lucas laughed loud and ran his fingers through his hair, “you’re so cute oh my God it’s insane you know that ?”

You kept quiet, afraid to make yourself look stupid in front of him again when you felt him lean in and place his index finger under your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze once more.

“Those innocent eyes drive me crazy, just like that night we...were together. You remember ?” He licked his bottom lip.

“Y-yeah I do” you murmured placing your hands in your lap and twirled your rings nervously.

“I was waiting for you to let me know when you wanted to do that again and you never did” Lucas pouted and stroked your cheek, “you don’t like me ?”

“No that’s not it!” You blurted and he chuckled. You sighed and swallowed hard, “I do like you Lucas but you just kinda ignored me after so I thought you didn’t like me...”

Lucas’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a smile as he his hands moved to your lap and laced his fingers with yours.

“I clearly remembered telling you to let me know if you wanted to, I thought me kissing you was enough to let you know how I felt about you y/n” Lucas sighed, “when you didn’t respond after I assumed you weren’t into it.”

You groaned loudly and playfully shoved him, “well next time be more clear will you ?!”

Lucas grabbed your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss, quickly dominating it and cheekily bit on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Is that clear enough for you ?” He said lowly as his hands moved to your sides and drew circles on your hips.

“I meant be more vocal Lucas” you rolled your eyes yet still flushed from his incredible kiss.

Lucas moved from the coffee table to the couch and in one Swift movement he had you on his lap, straddling him.

He laid his head back as he looked at you through hooded eyes and wet his bottom lip with his tongue.

“Vocal huh ?” He mused.

You tried your best not to move on top of him, the last thing you wanted was to get a tiny taste of friction and going all the way in your workplace studio.

“I don’t want to be just a fuck buddy if that’s what you’re into...”

“Now where the hell did I say that damn y/n what do you think of me?” Lucas chuckled and fake cried into his hands.

“I’m sorry I just wanted to put it out there” you bit down on your lip and played with the material of his shirt.

“I want more, Ofcourse I want more” Lucas groaned and pulled you closer, “you know Johnny hyung told me you’re out of my league”

“I-I’m out of y-your league ?”

“I mean he’s kinda right though, you’re perfect I’m sure any of the guys were waiting to get to you” Lucas pouted and placed a soft peck on your neck.

“Well I only want you...” you mumbled not noticing Lucas’s eyes brighten, all you felt was him bear hugging you and placed butterfly kisses all over your face and neck.

“Good!” Lucas grinned before his eyes became dark again, “so now that I’m vocal, I want to hear a different type of vocal from you y/n.”

#lucas wong #nct lucas #wayv lucas #yukhei angst #yukhei fluff #wong yukhei #lucas smut #wayv smut #wayv scenario #wayv imagines #wayv angst #nct scenarios #nct reactions #wayv reactions

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revirushifaa · 3 years

Text

Sweet Memories

Summary: One night when Lucifer is checking old books for paperwork that he needs done, he stumbles with an old photo album with his angel years with the rest of his brothers. Leviathan is the only brother he knows being awake, so he calls him to check them with him.

Note: These are my headcanons on how the bros were as angels. Satan is not there for obvious reasons, these events happened before the Celestial War, so Satan is non-existent there.

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"Where could I have put it? Hm..." Lucifer mused as he was searching for some old documents that could help him with the paperwork he was currently doing, late night and busy as ever, he was given the chance to rest but he decided to work instead.

"Hm? Hey, this is..." when he spotted a certain book, he stopped his search and picked it up, the book was a bit dusty, so he blew it and wiped it off with his gloves, seeing what the book was about, he sighed softly.

His angel years with his brothers, that was the photo album that they all agreed to have as memories for when they had their previous life. Lucifer flipped the book open and began looking at the pictures, a small smile crossing his features. All his brothers as little angels.

He had an idea, he grabbed his D.D.D and texted Leviathan.

'Levi, can you come to my room?'

Levi was likely still awake having a marathon of his favorite anime. He, however felt his phone vibrated and pulled it out, blinking.

"Lucifer wants to see me? Wonder what he wants."

He wasn't all that nervous since he and Lucifer had very positive bonding times just the two of them, he paused his anime and got up, sending an 'on my way' text back to Lucifer. He knocked on the eldest's door.

"Lucifer, I'm here."

The door was open and Lucifer greeted his younger brother with a small smile.

"Come in, Levi."

Levi walked in, as the door behind him closed behind and took a seat on a couch in Lucifer's room.

"Remember this?"

Levi's eyes widened at seeing the photo album. "No way! You have our photo album! I never thought, you would save that..."

"I did of course. I could never let these memories go lost in space... the only memories of being a angel that I would never forget." Lucifer nodded, showing the pictures to his brother. Levi looked at them with a certain fondness, he had to admit, these moments were really magical, they all were very close as angels, but didn't mean now as demons they were not anymore, they still were brothers, but some differences were in the way, still though, they appreciated one another in their own way.

"Oh this one photo..." Levi looked at the picture. It was one when he was just a few years born, like four. He was afraid of swinging in a swing that was put their merely for the little angels' fun. "I was so frightened, until you swung with me, Lucifer, I didn't even want to swing with Mammon, but you." he chuckled a bit. "Guess, I was a bit of a skiddish baby angel."

Lucifer chuckled. "Yes, only with me, you were able to cast your fear away. Look at that, I still remember as if it was just yesterday you were born, you're so grown up, little brother..." he sighed, where had time gone to. His brother was an adult demon, not that sweet shy little angel of the picture.

Levi looked embarrassed. "Lucifer, please, you're embarrassing me.." he couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed at his brother's words, but smiled fondly the picture, remembering how it went.

Long, long ago...

"What's that?" Little angel Leviathan asked, as he stared at the new structure while he was hiding behind Mammon.

"It's just a swing, Father ordered for it to be put for our fun! I think it's awesome, wanna try it, Levi?" Mammon asked his little brother, turning around a little to see him.

"N-no, thanks. Seems dangerous." Levi shook his head, refusing to go on and sit on the swing in front of him.

"Oh, c'mon, Levi! It'll be much fun!" The white-haired angel moved to pick up his little brother, who squirmed in his hold and cried.

"No, no, no! Put me down, Mammon! Put me DOWN!" He wailed, his eyes pricking with tears at the corners.

"What seems to be the matter." A deep voice asked behind the angels. Angel Lucifer had come to check on his little brothers, seeing Levi crying in Mammon's arms.

"Mammon, put Leviathan down, he is scared. You should not force him to do something he does not not want to do." Lucifer ordered, folding his arms and eyeing his second brother disapprovingly.

Mammon pouted and placed, sobbing little Levi down. "But I just wanted to show him the swings and swing with him! I wasn't even hurting him, Lucifer!"

"Yes, I know that. But, he does not want that." The older angel stated as he approached his brothers and crouched down to Levi, putting a hand on his head, speaking softly to him. "Levi, it is alright, it is just a swing." He held his small hand.

Levi sniffled and looked up at his brother. "It won't hurt me?"

"No, it will not," Lucifer cleaned up Levi's teary eyes with his thumb and smiled gently down at him. "Would you like to try it? I will go with you." Unlike how Mammon asked him, Lucifer didn't immediately pick him up to put him there by force, he used words first, instead of actions.

Seeing that his wise older brother was asking him gently first, Levi nodded his head a little. "Okay, but, Lucifer, go with me."

"Of course, brother mine, I will go."

The older angel led the younger angel by the hand to the swing and let him see him, not urging him to sit on if he didn't want to. Levi let go of his brother's hand and moved slowly to the swing, lightly poking it, seeing it didn't do a thing to him back. But he didn't want to sit on, still unsure of it.

"Do you want me to sit with you, brother?" Lucifer offered him and Levi thought for a moment, before nodding, trusting him. Lucifer picked him up gently, sitting down on the swing, placing Levi on his lap, holding him with an arm around the child's chest, and holding onto the side of the swing with his free arm.

"Mammon, can you push us?"

"Yes, I can!" Cheerily, Mammon moved forward and started pushing Lucifer in the swing with Levi.

"W-woooooooaaaah! I can see our room from here!" Levi squeaked, seeing the sight before him as he went back and forth.

Lucifer chuckled. "Impressive, right? This is what you see when you swing." He replied gently, holding securely onto the swing and his brother.

"And I can push you the highest, you haven't seen a thing yet, brothers!" Mammon giggled with a grin, and pushed the other angels as high as he could.

Levi kept aweing as Lucifer calmly swung with him, replying to anything the child told him, having much fun. He was a teenager angel, but he didn't mind being around his kid brothers, that was what he enjoyed doing, he was their big brother and as their big brother, he promised to be with them always.

A picture was taken without the brothers' knowledge, one that would be saved as a very dear memory.

Present time

Levi sighed as he remembered how that went. "Lucifer, this memory is by far my favorite one. There's more I know... but this one, makes it very special." He smiled, looking at his kid self holding onto the swing with his brother, he looked so excited and Mammon happily pushing them from behind.

Lucifer had also remembered the memory, a look full of fondness as he sighed. "Sometimes I wish things were like those times again, where we didn't have to worry about a thing, just of living and staying together... will never forget these wholesome times." He flipped the pages and smiled softly, at the next picture.

"Ah, look at this one, you fell ill and I had to stay behind to care for you, missing the feast with the other brothers. You were a little older here."

Levi smiled back. "I was like ten/eleven, can't remember but, I felt happy you cared too much for staying with me." He really did, Lucifer's will was to stay with him until he got better with his cares.

Long, long ago

"Where is Leviathan?" Lucifer asked his younger brothers, he was holding his infant sister Lilith in arms. "The feast is starting soon and we cannot go without him."

"Last I checked, he was still sleeping. I didn't want to wake him up, so I let him sleep more." Mammon replied, he was holding little baby angel Belphie in arms while Asmo had Beel in his own arms.

Lucifer frowned softly. "Still in bed? Odd for him, normally he's up at the same time as Mammon... I will go check on him." He gently put Lilith in Mammon's arms. "Watch Lilith, too." He instructed as Mammon adjusted the infant angel in arms, so she fit in as he was holding Belphie at the same time.

Lucifer walked inside the temple and to his brother's room, knocing in softly. "Levi?" He called and waited. When he got no answer, he opened the door and stepped inside, seeing his brother still in bed. He walked over to him and placed his hand on his forehead to wake him, frowning concerned, seeing he had a fever.

"Oh no. This can't be good." His brother had a fever, that meant it was some heavenly flu that he came down with.

Levi groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "L-Lucifer...? Is it the feast already?" his voice was hoarse.

"Almost, but you aren't well, are you?"

Levi shook his head. "I feel hot and very yucky." He had bas taste because of his cold.

Lucifer frowned. "You have heavenly flu, brother mine. You cannot get out of bed like this."

"B-but what about the feast?! Father's not gonna be happy with me skipping it, you know how he is..." Levi bit his lip a little.

Lucifer shook his head. "No. I will tell him you caught a cold, and I will stay behind to take care of you until you get better."

Levi smiled feebly. "Thank you, big brother... you're so nice to me."

Lucifer ruffled his indigo hair and sent a message by thought to his Father, explaining everything to him. Then nodded when he was immediately replied.

"Do not worry, Levi. Father knows now and he will not be mad for skipping the feast, I will stay here with you." He said reassuringly, then stood. "I just have to tell the rest of our siblings that we won't be joining them in the feast."

At Levi's nod, the older angel left the room to see his other siblings and spoke to them.

"Listen, everyone. Levi is ill with heavenly flu and won't be joining us. I will stay behind and take care of him, the rest of you will go to the feast with no exception."

"Do we take our baby siblings there? Beel and Belphie can eat solids now, but Lilith is merely born a few hours ago, what should she eat while all of us are eating?" Mammon asked, a little thoughtful.

"Feed the twins with bland food, there should be bottles of milk for our sister. Your caretaker, Uriel will take you to the feast and watch over you, while I'm with Levi. Now, behave yourselves and do not cause any sort of trouble, or there will be consequences. You don't wish to upset Father either." Lucifer said to the rest of the little angels and they all nodded at him or rather Mammon and Asmo, for the last of the siblings were still very young to speak clearly.

Pleased with their answers, Lucifer whirled to stay with sick little Levi and sat by his bed side. "I am here, Levi." he assured softly, rubbing his hot forehead.

"Big brother, I feel yucky..." Levi whimpered, being the sensitive little brother, he was beginning to whine at being sick.

"Shh, shh, do not speak much, sleep," Lucifer hushed him softly. "Do you want me to sing a lullabye to you?"

Levi nodded, his brother's soothing voice helped him calm down easily. Lucifer cleared his throat and began singing to his little brother, holding his hand.

"Little brother mine,

Hush now, close your eyes,

Dream of a wonderful world with all of us,

Little brother mine,

Hush now, lay your head close to my chest,

You will dream peacefully, not a single nightmare,

Little brother mine,

Hush now, sleep tightly, tightly..."

When he was done singing, Lucifer turned to look at Levi and he was once again sleeping, his little hand holding his tightly and the older angel smiled warmly, reaching over and planting a brotherly kiss to his head. That lullabye was sung to him when he was a mere baby, he sung it to Mammon and Levi when they were little infants, and still sung it to them and the rest of his siblings, only changing the lyrics when it was sung to Lilith.

"Sleep well, get well soon, little brother mine..."

Present time

"Lucifer..." Levi suddenly mumbled. Lucifer turned to him from the book.

"Yes?"

"What changed you to who you are now? You were so caring, rarely even yelled or punished us like how you do now..." Lucifer sighed. He knew he would be asked that question eventually, so he was honest with his answer, not telling a single lie.

"I turned strict because of your own good and the others... you all needed a firm hand in discipline, not just gentleness or not consequences at all. I... I would not take it to see any of you go forever for any rash behavior... you all are very important to me... all of you. Even if I'm hard as a rock or unmoving... you will always be my little brothers, nothing will ever change that."

Leviathan understood the need to be more firmer now that they all were demons, when they were angels they didn't do any mischief as the one most of them did nowadays.

"Yeah, I get that, I just miss your old caring you so much..."

Lucifer wrapped an arm around Levi's shoulders. "I'm still caring, you all just don't know when I do it and I prefer doing it secretly." He explained, squeezing Levi's shoulder.

"Hm. Well, I should be grateful you still show me the same care as when I was a tiny angel, thank you, Lucifer..." shyly, Levi admitted earning a quick chuckle from Lucifer.

"Don't mention it, brother mine. Still want to see more photos?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

And both brothers kept watching more pictures of sweet memories and remembering the sweet and dear moments that they had back at the Celestial Realm.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #no satan #mentions of lilith as a baby angel #mizu's writing #headcanons #angel brothers #angel brothers before they turned into demons #before the celestial war #fluff

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little-smartass · 3 years

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THE VAMPIRE LESTAT COVER ALBUM - the legendary Vampire Lestat is back and bigger and badder than ever, this time bringing a whole album of song covers ranging from classic bangers to newer fresh takes on chart hits! get your copy now, complete with a transcript of the artist's commentary on each song!

(songs I think Lestat would cover and release as an album in an attempt to re-kickstart his career and/or make some sort of dramatic statement to Louis. tracklist and "artist commentary" under the cut)

Survival - Muse

“And I’ll reveal my strength, to the whole human race, yes I am prepared, to stay alive, and I won’t forgive, and vengeance is mine, and I won’t give in, because I choose to thrive! Yeah I’m gonna win!”

Oh, I wish this song had been around back on that opening night at the Cow Palace - how apt that would have been! What a fucking anthem! They would have been rioting all night. I mean, they already were, but, like, because of the music. Not because vampires were being immolated in the middle of the crowd. Different kind of riot.

The Bitch Is Back - Elton John

“I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch, oh the bitch is back, stone cold sober as a matter of fact, I can bitch, I can bitch, ‘cause I’m better than you, it’s the way that I move, the things that I do!”

One day I want to have this play as I walk into Night Island. I’ll time it perfectly so that I throw off my coat - my denim jacket, or- oh, no, a fur! Maximum drama! - just as the chorus starts. Armand will know that I’m coming of course, but I think that’ll just make it even better. And I have good memories to this song... [muffled question] Sorry, gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, bébé. [laughter]

Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic

"Oh my, feels just like I don’t try, look so good I might die, all I know is everybody loves me, head down, swaying to my own sound, flashes in my face now, all I know is everybody loves me”

Look, do I even need to explain this one? Didn’t think so.

Bad Reputation - Joan Jett

"I don't give a damn ‘bout my reputation, I've never been afraid of any deviation, and I don't really care if you think I'm strange, I ain't gonna change - and I'm never gonna care bout my bad reputation"

This one's fairly self-explanatory again. It could have been my personal anthem when I was mortal quite honestly. And it's an awful lot of fun to jump about and headbang to, don't you think? That's a new thing I've found out about, headbanging. People have been hopping about to music looking like fools for centuries but now there's a name for it. Fantastic.

bad guy - Billie Eilish

"I’m that bad type, make your mama sad time, make your girlfriend mad type, might seduce your dad time… I’m the bad guy. Duh.”

Creepy? Check. Sexy? Check. Tongue-in-cheek? Check check. This song was great and a lot of fun to cover.

Lover to Lover - Florence + the Machine

“I believe there’s no salvation for me now, no space among the clouds, and I feel I’m heading down, but that’s alright, that’s alright, that’s alright”

I don’t know, this one just felt very relevant. Also the piano was great to do. You might have noticed that I’ve picked a lot of songs with piano, and that’s because I bullied the studio into getting me a goooooorgeous grand piano for the recording space and I wanted to use it as much as possible!

Feeling Good - Muse

“Stars when you shine, you know how I feel, scent of the pine, you know how I feel, oh freedom is mine, and I know how I feel”

I just really like this song - I’ve done a cover of an excellent cover! Can- can you put emojis in this? Do people still use emojis? Well imagine I’ve put the shrug one. Wait, isn’t there- Daniel, Daniel, come here, isn’t there a shrug emoji made up of keyboard- [muffled words] yes! The shrug one! Yes, put that in the transcription. [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] I just like this song.

The Man - The Killers

“I got gas in the tank, I got money in the bank, I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man, I got skin in the game, I got a household name, I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man”

I feel like this one speaks for itself too. Can you put that shrug emoji thing in here again? [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] Yes!

J'ai Pas Envie - MIKA

J'ai pas envie, de faire comme si, comme les maris, qui disent oui, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie d'te faire plaisir, j'ai pas envie, j'ai pas envie, si tu m'aimes viens me le dire"

Look, I'm not going to translate the whole song for you, because it has all this clever wordplay you just totally lose in english… but the gist of it is that these two lovers are… at odds a lot. It's… it's maybe a little spiteful [laughter] but in a fun way! It's a fun song! Louis won't even be mad about it, it's MIKA.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

"When I'm not with you, think of you always (I miss those long hot summer nights), when I'm not with you, think of me always, always"

[Long pause] God, I miss Freddie.

Let 'Em Talk - Kesha

Ah, full disclosure - I put this song in purely because of the expression Louis made when I played it in the car and it got to the line “can suck my dick” and she did that popping noise… it was incredible, and I just knew I had to cover it so I could see his expression when I said that. I can’t wait to play it to him. [laughter]

So What - P!nk

"So so what, I'm still a rockstar, I got my rock moves, and I don't need you, and guess what? I'm having more fun, and now that we're done, I'm gonna show you tonight, I'm alright, I'm just fine, (and you're a tool, so)"

I'm actually a big fan of nineties and noughties female stars - all that grrrrrrrl power, it's great fun, you know? I'd say this one is fairly self-explanatory, because I am still a rockstar! This is my new album! Fuck you EMP and your sniffy little article calling me "washed up"!

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

"But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I my dear?"

This one could be self-deprecating, but it's also very vindictively angry at the same time, and that's a combination I definitely get. Like, oh, it's my fault, isn't it? It's my fucking fault again, what a surprise. Perhaps "learn from your mother or you'll spend your days biting your own neck" is a little on the nose… [muffled words] you've read my books, right? [muffled words] Good, good.

Missy - The Airbourne Toxic Event

"But I swear there's still some good in me, I think if you'd stuck around you'd see, all the botched attempts at integrity I once had"

Oh, I was feeling philosophical when I picked this one. No, philosophical isn't the right word… melancholy? Do people still use that word? "I swear I swear I swear I'll never get sad" is both furiously defiant and yet so self-defeatingly ironic. [Exasperated noise] Enough of that. Next!

Please Don't Leave Me - P!nk

"I don't know if I can yell any louder, how many times have I kicked you out of here, or said something insulting? I can be so mean when I wanna be, I am capable of nearly anything, when my heart is broken… (please, please don't leave me)"

Oh, we’re… we’re getting to this section now. [clearing throat] Well, I have to make up for that sucking dick line, don’t I? Get a bit vulnerable. Oh God, why did I decide to do this bit? [muffled words] [bad chicago accent] But why buy the cow? Because you love him, you really do. [sigh, laughter]

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons

"Oh, I always let you down, shattered on the ground, still I find you there, next to me, and oh, the stupid things I do, I'm far from good it's true, still I find you, next to me"

Why did I- I don’t remember putting so many of these ones in.

Run To You - Pentatonix

"I've been settling scores, I've been fighting so long, but I've lost your war, and our kingdom is gone... how shall I win back your heart which was mine? I have broken bones and tattered clothes, I've run out of time"

[Sigh] [clears throat] Yeah. I think we can move onto the next one.

Love of My Life - Queen

“Love of my life, don't leave me, you've stolen my love, you now desert me, love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me, because you don't know, what it means to me”

I play this one sometimes on my baby grand when we've had a fight, and it's impossible for him to stay angry. He's a sucker for this sort of… formality in romance. God, I wish I'd realised that earlier. If I'd written him a letter in fancy copperplate script with scented paper and enclosed rose petals politely requesting him to bend me over his desk back in the day, it might not have taken two centuries of mutual blue balls for us to figure our shit out. Ah well, live and learn… as it were. [muffled words] Look, I did a whole bunch of vulnerable songs! Now I get to make sex jokes! [laughter] oh fuck off.

#Lestat de lioncourt #loustat #vampire chronicles #dead disasters #my mixes

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klaineownsmysoul · 2 years

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Musings on the KC interview/cringe fest:

A day late but most likely not short if I know myself at all.

The Good

American Buffalo - yes. Oh hell yes. Please talk about this all day long and definitely show a pic to remind us all of the great talent and company he will be working with. Throw in an MCU Thanos snap reference and I’m very happy indeed.

Stories about his dad. When he talks about being an emotional hoarder, these are the kinds of things I think of him treasuring and holding close to the vest. The Xmas goose saga and his Anglophile dad? Loved it as well as the sly Friends/Chandler/Joey chick and duck mention.

Him talking about music and actually making this album. You can tell that it really does mean a lot to him and its infuriating to watch everything surrounding it go down in flames.

The Very Good

Pulling out a hidden guitar from behind the couch and strumming along like its absolutely no big deal.

The actual duet with AL. They are a lot of fun together and make this song so enjoyable. The red suits that don’t match but work just the same - awesome. I’m never going to stop saying it: the entire aura/vibe around D changes when its just him and his music. Everything else that literally weighs him down just disappears and its like he can breathe and just perform and not have to worry about what bs story he has to justify next.

The Bad and the Ugly

Yet another unnecessary mention of the trash bar. Thanks so much for the reminder of its existence. Its been open for 3 years now; we don’t need to keep hearing about it like its brand new. (What - no wedding pics to share as well?). Also thanks for LOLing at the name, Kelly, because yeah - what other reaction is there to it? Legit still don’t understand how he says that name out loud without dying of embarrassment. What story are we up to with this now? “Its her lifelong dream business. Its her bar, its 100% her bar, she’s the venue operator, I’m just there to play the piano.” Now apparently after too many drunken singalongs at whatever home he was referencing, “they” decided to sink thousands and thousands of dollars into opening a bar where you can get a lap dance and sing some Disney all in one place? Gosh its a good thing none of their careless friends bumped into the piano at their home and broke the frame on that magical room rotating photo of them. How tragic that would have been. No wonder they wanted them out.

The entire BVC convo. Yeesh. Cringey does not do it justice. He managed to look/sound just ever so slightly more enthused about it, but still not at all like he does when talking about basically anything else. She got her free promo in - their announcement pic shown on tv and a mention so check off those boxes. He’s going to rely on that “ultimate collab” line the entire time, isn’t he, because he can’t seem to find any other words to describe what should be an incredibly momentous time in his life. Someone who writes songs and entire musicals and is nearly a walking dictionary can’t think of any other way to talk about having his first kid. That’s totally normal...as is the utterly expressionless look on his face when talking about said topic. He looks like he’s just trying to get through that part of the interview so they can move onto something else he’d actually like to talk about. That whole “we already collaborated” bit? Gross. And no thank you. And sure you did. I so hope one day to have a child with someone who walks away from me at any available opportunity, looks dead inside when posing for photos, and can think of nothing nicer to say about me other than “I’m a big girl who can take care of herself.” Also quite prophetic of him to say that once he found out, he knew there’d be no talking about anything else and I hate that I had that very same feeling. And I’m pretty sure that of the two of you, I know which one would use that kid for promotion and spoiler alert - its not the one being interviewed.

That’s the second Xmas cookie story we’ve heard and dear lord let it go. How original. You’re trying so hard to sell us on this being a cool and edgy tradition of theirs, but when its something that the entire rest of the world already knows about - even if you don’t celebrate Xmas - it just sounds lame. I’m still betting on some sort of awful staged pic later this month of them in a kitchen with cookies spread on the counter. You know what I don’t know anything about? Filipino Xmas traditions. You know what I’d LOVE to learn more about? Exactly that. Tell me stories like that about his parents that are meaningful and matter to him, not some made up crap about decorating cookies with a woman he looks like he can barely stand some of the time.

I almost didn’t want to watch this because - other than the performance - I knew it would devolve into the ever present shitshow/endless pr loop that surrounds him. This album should have been nothing but a win for him and its almost become anything but with the tour debacle, pissed off fans, and his completely obtuse management team not giving a damn at all about the damage they’re doing to him professionally and personally.

#just a giant nope for me thanks

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furikakyo · 3 years

Text

a return to roots | 5

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost

Ichiro arrived right on time at 5:45 in the morning, buzzing your door just as you had gotten dressed after a quick shower. Steam wafted out of the bathroom as you rushed to the door to greet him and show him where the luggage was. Without anything to say, he promptly picked up one of the large hard case suitcases and you followed suit, going after him into the elevator. When your bodyguard loaded both of your cases into the trunk of his car and then opened the door for you to get into the car, you quickly said, "I need to double check everything in there is fine. I'll be back in a minute."

After reassuring Ichiro that you would be ok by yourself, you dashed back inside to survey your apartment, checking each room to make sure you hadn't left anything important behind. The kitchen and living room were clean, check. When you got to your bedroom, you paused, seeing one of your acoustic guitars sitting in the corner. Should you bring it? Were you actually going to write music? When you had announced your hiatus officially, you had stated that it was to gain inspiration for new music... but then that wouldn't really be a break, would it? You gnawed on your lip, remembering what Kuroo had asked of you the night before: "Take care of yourself in Hyōgo, alright? You're there for a reason; to take a break."

You scowled, cursing Kuroo and his knowledge of your work habits. But, a voice inside you reasoned, it wouldn't be work if you were writing just for fun... You thought back to those moments in your childhood home, in your room, writing songs and uploading them to YouTube and SoundCloud without thinking that anything would come of it; back before you felt any pressure to perform. Back to when you wrote lyrics that weren’t very sophisticated, but earnest and heartfelt all the same… back to when you had your muse to sit beside you every step of the songwriting process.

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you ran to the corner of your room and snatched the guitar, put it in its case, and then snapped it shut with finality.

If Ichiro was confused about you carrying down another piece of luggage, he said nothing, only staring ahead and driving when you were buckled. "Onigiri Miya," you reminded him, then settled into your seat. The ride there wasn't too far from your apartment; you had rented out the space because of its convenience, so anywhere you usually wanted to go to was within a reasonable distance. You watched the traffic with disinterest and spotted restaurants with dim lighting inside, most likely already prepping for the day ahead of them. The world kept moving on ahead, regardless of whether or not you liked it.

When you arrived at Onigiri Miya, Osamu was already out back in the van, probably waiting impatiently. You checked the clock in the car and clicked your tongue. You weren’t even late.

When you stepped out of the car, Osamu opened his door and got out too. You smiled widely. “Samu!” You rushed forward and gave him a strong hug, which he somewhat reciprocated. He wasn’t as big on physical touch as his brother.

Osamu only rolled his eyes though, patting your back as you told him he looked great. “You do, too. Want me to help with your bags?”

You led him to the trunk of your ride, where Ichiro was already opening it and carrying one of your suitcases. Osamu hefted the other one up, and you trailed behind with the guitar case. After securing everything in the back of the van, you turned to your bodyguard.

You smiled, a genuine smile, and then repeated what you’d already told him over text. “Well, Ichiro-san, I don’t know the next time I’ll see you. I’ll make sure to text you in advance if I plan on going to more public areas.” He said nothing, so you continued. “Thank you very much for all you’ve done for me, and I look forward to seeing you again in the future!” You gave him a bow, which he reciprocated stiffly before quickly getting back into his own car and driving off.

You sighed, then looked to Osamu. He quirked an eyebrow. “Ready?” You nodded determinedly, getting into the passenger seat of the van and buckling, him doing the same.

“Alrighty, then,” he cracked a grin. “Time for a road trip.”

After a while of scrolling through your social media accounts you sat back and stretched. Then you flopped back into your seat and looked over to Osamu. “Samu,” you whined in the most obnoxious voice possible, “do you have any food? I’m so hungry.”

Osamu rolled his eyes, jerking a thumb towards the back of the van. “Ya really think I wouldn’t bring food for the trip?”

Immediately, you turned around and began looking behind your seat for food. Sure enough, there was an insulated bag with onigiri. You gasped, bringing the bag into your lap with stars in your eyes. “You brought some?”

You ignored whatever his response was, instead unwrapping one and biting into it. “Mmm,” you moaned, chewing slowly. The nori was still crisp and the rice was fluffy yet still sticky. You closed your eyes to focus on the food. He must have made them right before you got there for them to be this fresh.

“I’m guessing you didn’t eat breakfast, then,” Osamu said, eyes staring ahead at the road.

Your grip on the rice ball tightened before you quickly realized what you were doing. Your apartment didn’t really have much left to eat after you’d finished up the gyoza last night, and even if you’d had food, you weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to keep it down. Butterflies had filled your stomach as you had tried to go to sleep, and they hadn’t really disappeared yet. “No,” you shook your head. “I woke up early in the morning and was tired.”

Osamu hummed and then didn’t say anything else. After another long beat of silence you squirmed in your seat, a little on edge. “Mind if I play some music?” He shook his head at your question and so you took over the AUX, playing some songs that had been stuck in the back of your mind lately. After the music started, any awkwardness immediately dissipated as you sang along and Osamu tapped his thumb on the wheel to the beat of whatever was playing. At one point you had even pointed out his cute habit to which he had denied before doing the same thing twenty minutes later. Giggling, you just looked out the window and didn’t comment on it that time.

After about an hour of songs, Osamu finally spoke again. “You can go back to sleep, if you want. Ya look tired.”

You looked over at him and then nodded, curling into yourself, rubbing your wearied eyes. Sleeping would be a good opportunity since you hadn’t gotten much last night. You leaned against the seatbelt and window and closed your eyes, ignoring the bumps in the road which made your head hit the glass each time. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

After a little less than five hours, you woke up to Osamu driving, now playing the radio instead. You looked outside. Gone were the skyscrapers and bright lights; in their place were rows and rows of empty fields, all blurring past you. "Are we in Hyōgo yet?" you asked, turning back to him.

Osamu gave you a quick glance and then switched his gaze back on the road. It was just the Onigiri Miya van on the stretch, the rest of what you could see of the roadway completely devoid of another vehicle. "Yeah," he replied. "We have about an hour left. I was gonna stop at the next place to stretch, though." He looked over at you again. "Is that alright with you?"

You nodded and then dug out another rice ball from the thermal bag, munching on it as you stared out the windshield. The nori wasn’t crispy anymore but at least the filling was still yummy. "So we're going to stop somewhere first. What's the plan after that?"

Osamu adjusted his grip on the wheel, driving with only one arm. "I was thinking that we could stop by your house, unload your luggage, maybe clean up your space since no one's been there for a while, and then go to do my business in Hyōgo." He paused, then added, "With Kita."

Your heart raced. It was your first day back and you were already going to have to face Kita. You could just stay home, a voice nagged at you. No, you thought, your face filled with grim determination. You could do it.

Almost as if sensing your internal strife, Osamu said, "Y'know, Y/N, I think Captain is just as nervous, if not, more." He continued staring ahead, not looking at you. Now he started tapping his thumb against the wheel again.

But you, your head snapped to look at him. "Really?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically.

Osmau nodded, smiling. "He's barely said a peep in the group chat he's in with me. Although now that I think about it, that's usually how he is." He chuckled. "Unless he's getting in between me and Tsumu."

You sighed, sitting back. Why had you expected Kita to hold anger towards you? Because you chose a career over him? Because you chose success over two of you, the voice in the back of your mind whispered. You ignored it, crossing your arms. You felt bad for thinking he would be anything less than how he always was in your mind (he was always Mr. Perfect), but it also made you feel better knowing he was scared too. No, not scared. Nervous, Osamu had said. Oh, god, how were the two of you going to act when you saw each other?

"Hey, Y/N." You turned to Osamu just as he pulled into the driveway of probably the only gas station within a 50 mile radius. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You'll figure it out."

As you followed him out of the van to stretch out your legs, you could only hope that you would figure it out. Preferably before you had to see Kita.

You had, in fact, not figured it all out by the time you and Osamu reached your childhood home. Instead of thinking about your lack of a solution, you resorted to reaching under the dingy welcome mat and pulled out a plastic bag with a key inside. “Still here,” you said cheerfully, showing the dirty bag off to your friend.

Osamu rolled his eyes and waited as you fumbled with the key to the house and then eventually opened the door.

You peered into the dark corridor and slipped off your shoes before stepping onto the hardwood floor. “I called the electricity and water guy,” you muttered, dragging one of the suitcases behind you. You paused and then grabbed the handle, which extended, then let the suitcase’s wheels do the work for you. “Everything should be functional by the end of the day.” When you got to the end of the foyer, you gasped. “What…?”

The inside of the house was, contrary to your belief, not at all covered in a thick layer of dust like you’d expected. Instead, it looked almost exactly the same as when you had moved out from there.

Osamu trailed behind you, taking his cap off and scratching the back of his head. “To be honest, I forgot that this was happening. Everyone here didn’t want to see your house collect dust and fall apart, so they..." He motioned around him, your eyes following.

The tatami mats in the living room and your parents' bedroom were clearly cared for, otherwise there would’ve been the overwhelming scent of dust or mold. You could imagine the diligence it would’ve taken to clean them so regularly. And the furniture— you ran a finger along the top of the kotatsu and then looked at it; nothing. You’d have to move the kotatsu into storage since it wouldn’t make much sense to have it out right now; you only used it in the winter...

You drank in the rest of the house, mentally planning where to place things and what to rearrange to your own liking. "I'll get the other case you brought," Osamu muttered, sidestepping around you to reach the doorway. You barely noticed him leave as you crept to your own childhood bedroom, sliding open the shōji screen door.

…Huh. It didn't look any different from what you last remembered. You walked inside. You had your western-styled bed, which still had the furniture sliders under the legs to protect the tatami mats; the bookshelves along the wall with your favorite books and shōjo manga... You paused at the string of fairy lights strung above your dresser. Clipped onto them were photos from high school: you and Osamu proudly holding a double-tiered cake you'd made in home economics, you and a few of the other Inarizaki boys fooling around after practice, you with your parents in front of the school in your third year. You laughed to yourself while looking at them, recalling the moments in which the pictures were taken; back when Samu's hair was grey and Tsumu didn't know what toner was, back when your only responsibilities were as Y/N the assistant manager and co-class representative of 3-A.

You stared at the end of the string lights, where there was a picture missing. You knew what was supposed to be there, in that gap. You were unsure of where it had gone though, so you searched your entire bedroom, taking out all of the books in your shelves and turning them upside down, removing all of the drawers in your dresser and peeking inside the base. You scoured your belongings for a sign of where that photo could have been, but to no avail.

"You looking for something?" Osamu pushed off of the doorway he'd been leaning on and peered over your shoulder. "I can try to help ya find it."

You shook your head, smiling. "No, it's okay. I lost something but it's not that important." You stood up and dusted yourself off, brushing your hands together. "We have some free time now that I don't have to clean up around here. What should we do?"

Osamu nodded, thinking to himself. "Well, we could go reacquaint you with your neighbors… or we could get to the farm early. It’s,” he checked his phone, “around 3 right now so we would have a couple hours to check out the entire farm. It’s big, so having too much time on our hands wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Uh…” You bit your lip and stared expectantly at Osamu. You make the decision.

He lifted an eyebrow incredulously, then said, “Alright, farm it is.”

You dropped your phone into your lap in disappointment, tempted to just throw it out of the window of Osamu’s van. Kuroo really is kind of useless, huh, you thought, staring out of the window glumly.

The sound of the tires hitting gravel road caught your attention and you looked out the front windshield. You sucked in a breath. You were here. At Kita’s farm. Or rather, you thought, Kita’s house. You had parked in the driveway of his home which overlooked all the fields. They were still somewhat of a muddy brownish color from how far away you were.

“Ready?” Osamu tried to look grim, knowing of your inner turmoil, but his glittering eyes said otherwise.

You exhaled and then nodded. “Yes.”

The two of you didn’t end up getting very far along the fields before Osamu ran into someone he knew, probably someone else working on the rice fields under Kita based on the way he was dressed. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and, somehow, long sleeved shirts and pants. Osamu smiled, greeting the man, “Koji.”

His recipient smiled too. “Osamu. How’s business in Tokyo? Still thinking of opening another shop in Osaka?” Koji motioned for him to follow him down the path in between the rice paddies, and he did, already lost in a conversation. You watched as another group of workers came towards the duo, and you heard laughing and cheering as Osamu talked to them.

Well, damn. Osamu had left you behind. You looked around and then checked your phone. You still had basically two hours to kill. “Ugh…” Should you just wait in the van for Osamu? What if Kita saw the van pulled up and approached it, though? You did NOT want to be alone with him, just the two of you. Plus it would be hot waiting in there. You pulled at the front of your t-shirt. At least there was a slight breeze every once in a while when you were outside.

Am I really going to do this? You looked up at the sky and shielded your eyes from the sun. It was already beating down on your shoulders and back. Sighing, you started in the opposite direction of where Osamu and the workers had gone. There seemed to be a lot of property, you thought, admiring the view. Although the rice paddies were still muddy, the view you had from this side of the farmhouse was stunning. In the distance were lines of trees so dense, and mountains even further away, just a faint silhouette smoothed against the sky. You imagined what it would look like when the rice was ready to be harvested, all green and heavy with the fruits of labor.

A few days ago you’d thought absentmindedly that life had been kind to you, Kuroo, and Kenma. But now, looking around the serene landscape and close-knit community of workers, filled with a fresh green newness brought from only the spring, you wondered: maybe the years had been kind of Kita, too.

Behind you, you heard dull rustling, and you turned automatically. You froze, stunned. Your mouth moved and formed words before you could even comprehend what it was you were saying.

“Kita?”

a/n: ohhh my goodness i had the worst experience with a karen yesterday and i never thought i would have to deal with one for some reason…. fuck you amy and i hope i never have to see your bitchass face again

taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen, @duhsies, @succulentmom, @kenmaslov3r, @introvertatitsfinest

some ~fun facts~

- ichiro the bodyguard/driver may or may not have shed a tear or two after y/n left. (i told you he was a big softie)

- he wanted to give you a hug goodbye but wasn’t sure if that would be overstepping 😔

- imagine samu loading the van with your luggage and pushing off the doorframe after previously leaning on it with his muscly arms and glorious tiddies… BEEFY SAMU SUPREMACY 🧎‍♂️

- one of osamu’s guilty pleasures is pop music 😭

- one of y/n’s fav things to do on social media is just go through atsumu’s public profiles and read the thirst comments 😭😭

#haikyuu #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita 🧍‍♂️#miya atsumu #atsumu miya #haikyuu!!#inarizaki #kenma kozume #miya osamu #ojiro aran #kuroo tetsuro #suna rintaro #haikyuu x reader #farmer kita

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