#this got away from me . but you see my vision

[harstyle]

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 

“Of course.” 

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

--

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

[mikobeautifulheart]

How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.

IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.

TEHEHE YESSSS

Not edited btw :(

Weak spot

Including: Yuji and Yuta

Yuji

You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.

Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.

You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.

Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?

First you looked under the couch.

Then his desk draws.

And then in the book shelfs.

Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.

Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.

You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"

You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.

"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"

"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.

"What were you looking for?" He asked

"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"

"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.

(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)

Yuta

You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.

You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.

Man this sucks.

You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.

Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.

You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.

"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.

You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.

A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.

"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.

"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.

"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, self-harm word count -> 1.9k

abstract -> "If you treat him like a monster, he’ll turn out to be one"

y/n's perspective

“Why did you help, Jake?” I heard and I saw Jay behind me. How did he find out?

“What?” I asked in hopes of clarity. “Heeseung told me you helped Jake with a human potion… did he force–” “He didn’t… he begged to understand how to feel human so I gave a potion to K to give to him and– he asked for help to be human and that it” I said now panicked and he sighed

“He went off to tell Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki now,” he said and I sighed. “He asked me not to tell you guys… is… he okay?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“The potion is wearing off so he'll be better but he used his fire and burned his arms. They're treating him right now in our dorm so he doesn't get in trouble and neither do you” he said and I sighed. 

“I can help–” “Why are you asking to help? He hurt you,” he said and I smiled softly. “It's my magic, and besides he apologized and explained. He’s learning control… and he's also a neurotic vampire. It's why he's so hyper and why his emotions get the better of him” I said and only hugged me. 

“You’re too kind for your own good,” he said and I hugged him back. “I… really wanted to continue what I had with Sooha, but you still forgave that I was split,” he said and even tightened his grip.

“Just don’t let people exploit it,” he said and pulled away. I offered him a smile…

“Lets go help, he’s still your friend after all” 

When I entered the dorm I could hear cries. 

“Ah! y/n!” I heard as I saw… Sooha. I’m glad he had her helping him. “Can you help, please he's in so much pain I don’t know what got to his head!” she pleaded and I nodded. 

I then freeze. 

“Uhm… Sooha, Jay can you leave the room?” I ask and they look at me confused. “I have to..” I trailed off while I brought a pinout. “Jake isn't good with control–” “I’ll be fine, I can take away his thirst while I'm here,” I said and he nodded and went outside the room I'm assuming only outside the door. 

“Go away” he cried while curling himself up in a ball. Sooha tried to bandage his arms. His shirt was off when I saw the burns even exceeded his shoulders. 

I pricked my finger letting the blood smear whilst his body shook. “I can’t do anything right,” he muttered. “Ja–” “Sooha just go away… please” he pleaded. He thought I was... 

“You don’t understand… What I did to those people hurt as much as what I felt, What I did to her was worse than what I feel” he cried out. 

“Jake,” I said and he turned his head slightly from the corner of the couch to see me. I felt my vision blur… just a bit. “Why… why are you here?” he asks and I sigh. 

“Well, I warned you not to use your powers,” I said and he only cried more. “I needed to know…  I-I’m sorry! I… why… why are you bleeding” he sat up when he saw my hand and shuffled away from me. 

“Jake, I'm gonna–” “No! Stay there,” he said when I tried getting closer. 

“I’m gonna do a spell… it’s gonna turn you back–” “I’ll hurt you again, just leave!” he yelled and I shook my head. “You won’t feel thirsty until I leave” I explained and he shook his head. 

“Jake. I forgive you, okay? So please trust me for now” I asked and he froze. I tried to get close when he started telling me the same thing. 

“Ah… Heeseung'' I said while looking at the door. Jake turned when I tackled him and got on top of him, catching him by surprise and doing my spell quickly. “You lied!” he said as I muttered my spell. He then winced when I saw his fangs were coming out. I cut my palm a bit to feed him my blood and did another spell so he wouldn’t turn me into a blood bag. 

“Are you crazy! I’m a vampire, I could kill you!” he yelled as he sat up again and gripped my shoulders. “But you don’t feel the bloodlust right?” I asked and he froze. “You’re insane… Why would you do that! And you lied about Heeseung there!” he whined, making me laugh. 

“But… Thank you for helping me. It doesn't help my emotions' ' he said, his pain is gone but not his guilt. “Jake, you can only do one thing to improve this, '' I said and he stared at me, eager to fix his mistakes.

“Live in fear to commit the same mistakes, Choose to live in bloodlust, or actually improve. To improve you need to accept being a vampire and your mistakes. You need to forgive yourself” I said and he couldn’t say a word. 

“What you did was stupid” I heard and this time it was Heeseung. “The blood spilled in your hand would have driven him–” “You need to give him more credit than that. If you treat him like a monster, he’ll turn out to be one” I said and he looked at me dumbfounded. 

“But it doesn’t mean he is. I get told how much of a freak I am by the humans… vampires, and hybrids because I use magic. It doesn’t make me one, though” I said and he stayed silent. 

“If you need help, my doors are open,” I said to Jake and I noticed a weird position. 

“Uhm! Sorry for this by the way” I said and ran for the door. 

“Blood!” I was now surrounded… this time by my mates and Sooha waiting outside the door. “Sooha, go inside,” Sunghoon said as he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her inside with him. “I… think I'm going too,” Niki said.

Left with three. “You’ve got a lot to explain,'' Sunoo said and I smiled nervously…

Where do I start?

jake’s perspective

When she left, Heeseung said nothing. Instead of going to his room, I then noticed Sooha, Sunghoon, and Niki enter. She was still bleeding. 

“You did not drink her blood!” Sunghoon said and I shook my head. “No–” “You have her blood on your face!” Niki screeched and I shook my head. 

“She… I don't know! She did spells! She forced her blood into me!” I yelled defensively and they scoffed. They haven't marked her yet… let alone tasted her blood. 

“Just don’t do it again” Niki muttered as he left being a grumpy kid. 

“Jake, are you okay?” Sooha asks worriedly and I nod. “y/n… is too forgiving. She also helped me alot” I said and she smiled. “Maybe this will–” “Don’t mention this again Sooha” I said and she only offered a shy smile. 

“Are you okay, Hoon?” I ask, noticing his staring off like he usually does. “Mhhmm, Solon is… annoyed with you” he muttered as he didn’t stop staring at the floor. “Is it the blood?” I ask and he nods. “You do have her blood on your cheek,” Sooha said and I felt my eyes widen. 

“Uhm! I’m gonna go to my room!” 

I cleaned my face while I was alone with my thoughts. 

Why’d she help me… defend me against Heeseung? After what I did? I would hate me, even wish the worst for me. Why was she so… kind? 

“You’re lucky, hyung!” I heard as I left my bathroom to see Jungwon and Sunoo. “Yah! Get off my bed! Your clothes are dirty–” “Why’d you wanna be human anyway?” Sunoo asked. 

The two used to be human… “I wanted to know how it felt,” I said and Jungwon sat up. “It's not fun,” he said and I nodded. “It isn't,” I agreed. “What you did to her wasn’t fair Jake. Just because she forgave you doesn't make it right” Jungwons scolded. 

“I know… I want better control. I need to get better” I said and he sighed. “That's a good first step,” Sunoo said and I nodded. 

“How come you two turned out so smart?” I asked them. And they chuckled, “Heeseung's sister says we must've been blessed with it,” Sunoo said.

“I swear you two seem to be her favorite, '' I said as I jumped on my bed in between the two. “Well… she’s not the best at hiding things. We know at some point we’ve met in another life,  but only Heeseung knows” Jungwon said and I chuckled. 

“Do you think in another life, we knew each other?” I asked them and they laughed. 

“Of course hyung!” 

I know I wasn’t allowed here. 

I knocked on the door and hoped Wonyoung wasn’t there. 

“Hello,” she said as she opened the door. “Oh thank goodness! Wonyoung isn't here right?” I asked and she laughed. “No, you're lucky. Are you feeling better?” y/n asked and I nodded. 

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me for breakfast?” I asked and she smiled. “Why not?” she said as she went back in to get her bag. 

“Where's my mates?” she asked. “Asleep, Jungwon and Sunoo slept over in my room. Niki also joined so they are still asleep in my room. Heeseung is nowhere to be seen, Jay… I think in Home-Ec, and Sunghoon in his jealousy arc” I said and she laughed.

“What?” she said while laughing. 

“Your blood was on me… and well drinking your mate’s blood is an intimate thing,” I said and I noticed her cheeks redden. “Also I’m sorry about your hand,” I said while I saw her bandaged hand. 

“It's nothing I'm not used to,” she said and I smiled. 

“I wish we had time to get breakfast outside the campus but, it'd be impossible without skipping homeroom,” I said and she chuckled. “I don’t mind skipping,” she said, shocking me. 

“You're supposed to be the number one! The top student! President of Bright Sun student council, who are you!?” I said dramatically, making her laugh more. “I was gonna skip, I was just gonna use the excuse of stuco” she said and I stopped.

“Let's go then!” 

We made it to the city where not many students were since class was gonna start. 

“Your mates are gonna freak out,” I said and she chuckled. “They skip more than me,” she said and I knew that was probably true. 

“Ooh! I need you to try this! It's a witch's place, but you can come in with me!” she said excitedly as we went into a breakfast place. 

“This just looks like human food,” I said while looking at the menu. “It has magic in it! It's really cool!” she said excitedly that it made me just stop and stare. 

“Jake? Are you okay?” she asked and I nodded. 

“I’m jealous that they get to have a chance with you,” I said but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. She smiled softly. “Well, you did reject me,” she said jokingly. 

“I know and I'm an idiot–” “Jake! Do you want to be my mate?” she asked, throwing me off guard. She giggled since I must've looked like an idiot. 

“Yes! I… I wanna be your mate” I said and she smiled. “Ah! I’ll even pay–" "I won’t argue,” she said and I laughed. 

“Thank you, y/n”

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[nomazee]

THIS EVENT IS SO CUTE!!🩷🩷😭

could i req childhood best friends dan heng x reader word(s) is sneaking out if you want a timestamp, it's 11:42 p.m. thank you so much!!!

THIS REQUEST WAS SO CUTE i had way too much fun with this this hit 1.5k words which is way over the limit i set for myself... but i do not regret it at all. I LOVE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND DAN HENG AAAA THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

The ringing of your phone is cut off by the automated voicemail message for the nth time in a row. Your neck hurts from how long you’ve been staring up at Dan Heng’s bedroom window,  where the lights are off and the curtains are drawn and he’s definitely asleep. 

Anticipation makes you bounce on your feet, itching to just break into his front door and shake him awake yourself. Fortunately for Dan Heng’s family, it doesn’t quite reach that point, because your phone suddenly vibrates in your hand with Dan Heng’s contact flashing on your screen. 

Incoming call. Jackpot. 

“Dan Heng,” you answer the call with no formalities whatsoever, because those aren’t needed after knowing him for so long, “come outside! I’m here to pick you up.” 

“What is wrong with you,” he grumbles out. The grit in his voice is endearing and familiar and makes your breath stutter. “It’s— almost midnight.”

“I know, and you’re already asleep? You’re such a senior citizen,” you hear the exhausted sigh he makes at another one of your old-man-Dan-Heng jokes. “There's a carnival tonight. Like, one of the cool ones that only open at 10 o’clock. March just texted me about it, she’s already there with Stelle!”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?” You hear shuffling, and spot movement in your peripheral vision. Craning your head up to look at his window yet again, you see the flicker of his bedside lamp being turned on (and you can already picture it from how well you know his room—that goofy-looking toucan table lamp that you got from some vintage store years ago for him), and the curtains pull back to reveal Dan Heng in all his half-asleep glory. He looks terrible, bangs sticking up and his corny galaxy-printed sleep shirt all wrinkled. It’s a charming look, though. 

“I told you, March just texted me about it! Literally five minutes ago.” 

“So, you ran here just to tell me about it?” 

“Well, yeah, duh,” your tone is incredulous, because he should know by now that he’s the first person you go to for anything. The first person to hear about your failing grade in calculus, or your embarrassing run-in with your middle school ex girlfriend, or the bitter orange that you had as an afternoon snack. Dan Heng’s call history is probably full of your contact (which is just your name, no fun emoticons or inside jokes, and no profile picture, much to your everlasting dismay), and every call would show that he answers every single one without fail. 

And, really, if you’re going to be honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), there’s a hopefulness twitching in your fingers tonight, something carried to you through the wind. You’re thinking of the carnival, about the sticky sweet snacks that you’re going to split with Dan Heng, the ferris wheel cart that you’ll be cramped in, the view of the stars from way up there and the tender way he’ll look at you. 

Because he does that, sometimes, with no explanation, and you’ve never had the strength to respond in any way but a hesitant smile and a smack on his shoulder and a stupid joke. But there’s a tote bag slung around your arm now, full of money and two water bottles and the weight of your heart. 

“Listen,” you tell him after a bout of his reluctant silence, “I brought you a jacket and your scarf, because I know you’re vitamin deficient and you’ll blow away in the wind unless I hold you down. It’ll be so fun if you come with me! Please? And I’ll get you home before your family notices!” 

Both you and Dan Heng know that’s a lie, because you have a tendency to drag him out for long periods of time where both of you forget to check your phones. In your opinion, it does more good than harm, because it lets you live in the moment—or so you tell Dan Heng’s parents when they question you about keeping their son out past sundown. 

“I’m not vitamin deficient,” Dan Heng tells you, but the argument is weakened by the fact that you’ve had to carry around a spare jacket for Dan Heng since you were both stumbling on your tiny baby legs. He must realize that, too, because you can see the way his face softens as he looks at you from his window, peering down. Despite the minimal light, you can still see the vibrant sheen of his eyes, the way that his mouth presses into a thin line to hold back a smile. 

It takes only a moment of contemplation before he lets out a yielding sigh and mumbles, “Okay, fine. I’m coming downstairs to let you in and then I’ll get ready. Don’t be loud.”

“I’m never loud!” 

The call ends with a click and Dan Heng slides his striped curtains closed. Circling around to get back to his front door, you made sure to be as quiet as possible and not trample his family’s gardenias. When the door opens to reveal Dan Heng’s beautiful, sleep-swollen face, an overwhelming warmth blooms in your chest and leaves your lungs dry and aching for air. The smile that appears on your face is instinctual, as most behaviors are for you around Dan Heng. 

“Hi,” you whisper, really truly whisper, because he told you to be quiet and sometimes it’s good to do what Dan Heng wants (only sometimes). His lips are still tightened into that thin line, and you think, I’ll make him laugh tonight, which is a goal you’ve always set for yourself, ever since you befriended him in first grade with a paper flower and a loud, blatant, childish proclamation of best-friend-ship. 

“Wait on the couch,” he directs you quietly, stepping aside to let you in. “Get a water from the fridge and pack it.” 

“I already brought two for us,” the apples of your cheeks strain with the force of your smile, and you’re trying not to giggle. The water thing—that was established forever ago, too, just like the spare jacket, and staying out late, and the toucan lamp, and the paper flower. You always shared a water bottle, reminding each other and passing one between your hands until the last drops were wrung dry from it, and then you’d spend half an hour trying to find a fountain to refill it because you never packed more than two on any given day. 

“Dan Heng,” you stop him with a hand on his shoulder before he can go back up the stairs to get ready in his room, and he looks back at you with the same look that you were envisioning before. The color of his eyes has gone dim, but in a fond way, in a way that tells you his breathing is even and his pulse is steady. 

You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to wrap your arms around him, the sleeves of your jacket pulling him close, warm, tender to you. Your tote bag dangles awkwardly to the side, but you try not to let it stop you from squeezing him tight, letting him know you’re here, right here. 

“What’s this about,” he mumbles into your shoulder, hands going up to grasp at the back of your sweatshirt and tug you just a few millimeters closer. A gentle weight sits between your hands and in your chest and you stifle a laugh into his barely-covered shoulder. 

“Nothing. Just really happy you’re coming.” 

“Okay,” he says, because he’s awkward and awful and so are you, but his hands still squeeze between your shoulderblades and keep you against him. A whistle of wind makes the gutters of the house creak, and you think of the stars that you’ll see from the top of the ferris wheel tonight, glinting in the sky and in Dan Heng’s eyes. 

“Let me go so I can change.” His voice is monotone, seemingly disinterested, but you don’t take offense to it, you never have. Reluctantly, you loosen your grip around him, and let him pull back the rest of the way because you can’t bear to do it yourself. 

The look, the glimmer, the depth of his eyes are all still there, accompanied by a new rosiness in his cheeks that you know isn’t caused by the heat of your hands or the cold wind outside. You don’t get the chance to laugh at the waver in his mouth as he fights back a small laugh, because he’s already turning back to rush up the stairs, stance wobbling as he tries to hide from his own embarrassment, and it’s so terrible and familiar and you ache with the urge to burrow into this home and make it your own. 

Your phone is flooded with dozens of texts from March, you’re sure, but even as it pushes midnight, you take your sweet time walking to the carnival, fingers clasped with each other as your jacket hangs off of Dan Heng—like it always has, like it always will.

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @flower-yi

event taglist: @confusion-star

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

[serendipnpipity]

Favorite DnP Tour Song Statistics

Settle round, little ducklings, do I have some statistics to share with you all!!

A grand total of 156 people participated in this survey, so thank you if you took the time to fill it out! 🧡

As a teaser, here’s a pie chart of the votes for your favorite song! We’ll be discussing this in depth in its own section but I know some of you f*ck vibe with pie charts more than the bar charts I use there…

To give you a clear vision of what we’ll be looking at, here are the categories of the upcoming analysis:

Phandometrics (community growth on a viewership & fandom scale)

Favorite Song (general)

Favorite Song vs. Phandometrics (the main hypothesis!)

Honorable Mentions (fun little quirks I noticed along the way)

Ready? Time to read on.

PHANDOMETRICS

Lag between year started watching -> year joined the phandom. This can be seen most obviously in the 2009-2015 portion of the graph, likely when the community was just building up. I went back to check individual points, and many people seem to join a year or two after starting to watch.

Three distinct peaks of phandom growth: 2015 (dnp popularity peak), 2019 (coming out), and 2023 (dnpg comeback, dnp renaissance). Pretty expected, but still cool to see!

The difference between the peaks when you look at viewership vs. phandom is interesting though! Especially 2019 seems to be a huge spike in viewership, but the phandom growth seems a little more gradual (maybe more people lurked at first, then joined the phandom in 2023 once they were more active?).

The 2012 peak is really interesting. Most popular year to start watching from this sample, apparently!

FAVORITE SONG

"The Internet is Here" won 51.3% of the votes... which didn't surprise me all that much. It's iconic, okay?

II is about half as popular, and beyond the song qualities themselves, I wonder if a contributing factor to this pattern could be its lack of availability as an officially released song.

I think Everything's Fine is so low partially bc I closed the poll before WAD released to prevent the recency effect from skewing the data. (Especially because I thought we were getting "Everything's Fine (Acoustic)" smh.)

FAVORITE SONG VS. PHANDOMETRICS

By era...

I had a hypothesis: based on the year you joined, which I now realize in my head wrongly equated with the year you were most active in, you'd be more biased towards the song of that era bc a) you were more likely to go to the tour or b) epic nostalgia hit.

Yeah, I was wrong.

When you group the eras you see that TIIH wins in almost every single group by a similar proportion to the total, which means this attitude is fairly evenly distributed amongst the phannies.

By year...

Separating by year, you begin to see that, hold up, the hypothesis could have some merit! In either 2017 or 2018 on both graphs, the II finale actually does win.

The super high TIIH votes bleeding in from 2015/2016 and from 2019 seemed to mask this pattern.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

I have no idea what happened here but both ways you slice it, Interactive Introverts was fighting for its life amongst the 2012 phannies???

We got three phannies that have been watching since 2009!! The fact that people have been sticking around so long (up to fifteen years!!! and this was only a sample of 156 of us!!!) is really heartwarming for me bc it's a testament to how strong of a community dnp have built their viewership to be.

At the end of the day, what can I say? That was a lot of statistics. I hope you enjoyed or took something away from this little survey. Lmk if you notice any other cool trends or have any theories on what the data means!

Thank you for listening to my yapping; have an orange heart.

🧡

[scarvain]

✶ STARGIRL — hamzahthefantastic x reader

007 ✶ Party Monster

stargirl masterfile – next – previous

SUMMARY: hamzah has a crush on a youtuber who's always out and about and slushies see their relationship progress on social media! (smau)

DISCLAIMER: reader is a brown haired girl and for some pics that aren't faceless, i'll be using olivia rodrigo cause i love her and she’s filipino like me hehehe

for y/n @ynlnupdates

It's been rumored that Y/N is hosting a party tonight and has invited multiple of her friends. My DMs are open for any photos or videos you have from said party <3

41 replies 25 retweets 73 likes

user222 BABES hamzah just posted a pic of her in his story

↳ user791 the way he's got the biggest crush on her and he's so open about it omg

user086 oh my gosh im so excited for all the pictures

user345 all she does is party bruh and she fr playing wit hamzah's feelings

the music was blaring loudly in the bar and different colored lights were being flashed. you were going around the bar, greeting all your friends and meeting people they brought to the party with them. behind you was hamzah, you had his hand in yours as you walked around and you would squeeze his hand to see if he was doing alright.

you two were together almost the whole night, stuck to each other like you were attached by the hip.

until your mutual friends arrived and split you guys apart. he was occupied by them all night while you were hosting the party and catching up with your friends.

at some point, you were looking around the bar for him, feeling incomplete without hin by your side and suddenly, you bump into him.

"oh my god hi," you said, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.

he was about to speak when another one of your friends called out for you and pulled you away from him. you mouth sorry to him and he just smiles at you.

the whole night, hamzah was on your mind. he was on your mind when you did shots with your friends, when another boy flirted with you, when you danced, anything. when hamzah saw you on the dance floor with another guy, he felt himself tense up, avoiding you the rest of the night.

it had felt weird. you two were just friends right?

right?

as the night was slowly coming to an end, whenever your friends bid goodbye, you insisted on coming with them outside until they got into their ride.

when the bar was empty, you made your way towards hamzah who was sitting on one of the stools with a drink in his hand. you took a seat beside him. he was quiet and you were too though he could see you from his peripheral vision.

your head was in your hands, hamzah calling for the bartender you had hired and asked for water.

he taps your shoulder and your head shoots up slowly, he opens the bottle then hands it to you with a small smile. you feel your stomach doing backflips before smiling at him and taking the bottle.

"thanks," you tell him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"wanna go now? i'll drive," he tells you but you shook your head.

you got off your stool, pulling it closer to his before sitting on it again. you place your head on his shoulder and a hand on top of his. "let's just stay here for a while."

hamzah felt nervous, biting his lip to hide his smile but fails. he was glad you couldn't see him. then right after, he wraps and arm around your waist, hand fiddling where your top ended.

you had fallen asleep in hamzah's arms after a while then he drove you both back to the air bnb, him wiping your makeup off before letting you get changed into your sleeping clothes.

"night hamzah, you're the best." you said softly as he tucked you in your bed.

"good night."

liked by 40,278 and others

tiktokroom Y/N spotted getting cozy with TikTok star, Vinnie Hacker at her party last night. Could a romance spark between these two? 👀

view comments

user628 no fucking way

user001 hamzah & y/n all the way bro

user372 told yall she was playing with hamzah's feelings

slushyfan noooooo

user123 thought she was dating hamzah???

user555 @ynln girlll wake up

it was the next day already and the first thing hamzah had seen on his phone was the news that came out about the girl he was in the room with.

martin had texted, asking if it were true and he had no idea what to answer. after all, he saw them dancing together last night.

who's to say she didn't have anything feelings for the guy?

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LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

[slippinmickeys]

This is for @medicatedmaniac who asked for a Ficlet set in the Proof of Life Universe: “Proof of Life my beloved - maybe the leadup to the Pulitzer prize being awarded? Maybe the night of and their in their hotel room getting ready to go to the ceremony? Or they get a letter about being nominated in the mail and maybe have mixed feelings on the nomination?”

1. She gets caught as she stands on the threshold of the hotel room, déjà vu suddenly overlaying her vision like a slide into a projector. The window is in the same place. The desk. The carpet is the same, though cleaner. If she closed her eyes she would hear a spat of gunfire. She does not close her eyes.

“Scully?” says Mulder from behind her with a gentle hand on her upper back.

She has stayed in hotel rooms since being held hostage in Africa, but this one…this one has a layout so similar to the one in which she was held that her amygdala takes over her higher functions. For a moment. One moment. Then she swallows and forces herself to breathe again. Forces herself to calm.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mulder whispers. He has come up more closely behind her, is looking over her shoulder into the room.

He is the only other person in the world who would get it, and does.

In a moment, the bags he was holding hit the floor and he brushes past her, marches into the room with purpose, directly to the desk, where he picks up the telephone receiver.

“I’m getting us a different room,” he says.

Scully swallows thickly and finally does close her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. She does not hear gunfire. They are an ocean away from that place.

“Wait,” she says, then moves into the room herself. Stands in the center and takes a slow turn. Mulder, still standing at the desk, still holding the phone receiver in his hand, watches her.

She turns to him calmly, and, she thinks, with dignity.

“Before you call,” she says, “take my picture.”

“Take your-”

“Take my picture,” she says. “In front of the window.”

Mulder slowly lowers the phone. Glances at her. Glances at the window. She doesn’t have to explain what she means. He understands immediately.

“A journey of a thousand days,” he husks.

Scully nods. “The light,” she goes on, “is perfect.”

2. Africa again, but far east of the jungle mountains and lowlands besieged by war, they are now in the shadows of Kilimanjaro, the savannah stretching before them as paper unfurls from a scroll.

Scully is here for six months, the resident doctor in a rural hospital built and supplied by a Canadian charity. She treats diseases long dead in the First World west, urges the women to collect water from the new well six miles away rather than the river that is only two.

She has a local guide and contact who works for the charity, a lanky Maasai man who goes by the Christian name of James. He wears ropes of delicate and colorful beads and a lion's tooth on a cord around his neck. Under his red tunic he wears a white Hanes wifebeater and sandals made of old tires. He is missing a tooth on the side of his smile, which he is also always wearing.

“Good morning, Doctor,” he says in his friendly accent when she emerges from the clinic door to see if there is anyone waiting for treatment.

“Jambo!” Scully says at a volume and enthusiasm which makes her uncomfortable. She would rather a quiet hello and nod, but the culture she is living in necessitates jovial greetings at all times.

James is leaning against a post just beyond clinic porch and holding a spear which means he was likely out in the bush.

“Have you seen Mulder?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says. “He got a call. He asked me to come and get you.”

At this, Scully raises her eyes. Cell phone reception is spotty here at best. She hasn’t bothered to carry her phone with her in weeks. Mulder always has his out in the field, but the clinic is in a dead zone and there’s really no point.

James pulls his own cell phone out of a pouch that’s looped around his waist. He presses a button and hands it to her.

“Scully?” says a tinny voice punctuated by static. She puts the phone to her ear.

“Mulder?”

“Scully,” Mulder says. “Call Benjamin and Savato, tell them we have to leave early.” He explains his statement in a rush and Scully is dumbfounded when she silently hands the phone back to James.

He nods at her and steps back respectfully. When she’s halfway through the door of the clinic, she comes back to herself and spins around.

“James!” She calls out. “How does your phone work here?”

James smiles widely, showing the gap in his mouth.

“Magic,” he says.

3. The day is sullen; gray and without cheer. Outside the window, the rain comes down in a defenestrating assault.

In the bright doorway of the bathroom — they have a top floor suite — Mulder stands, struggling with the knot of a bow tie.

“Monkey suit,” he says, a little whiny.

Scully smiles and walks up to him, the silk sheath dress she’s wearing whispering as she moves. She’s not wearing heels yet and has to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“It’s only for an evening,” she says, reaching up and taking over the knotting. “And if the big mucks at Columbia hear you complaining, they might take back your award.”

Mulder lifts his chin to give her more room to work. After a moment she feels his warm hands settle on her waist.

“There,” she says, straightening his bow tie. His hands stay where they are.

“Does it feel weird?” He asks her quietly. “To be here? For this?”

She pulls a stray hair — hers — from his white sleeve.

“A little,” she says.

4. “…for fairly obvious reasons, the areas of arts of scholarly arenas live close to my heart and lived experience. Over these two decades, so much has changed in our world. And we all know those changes have had huge impacts on journalism, the arts and scholarship. But three things have remained true. One, is that we value these roles of journalism, the arts and scholarship, and that has remained central to a good life. Personally, socially and politically. The second is that good and talented people continue to join these professions. And the third is that the Pulitzer Prizes annually provide the world with the occasion like tonight, to honor and celebrate these critically important areas of human endeavor, and the people who perform at the highest levels in them…”

The speaker continues to drone on. Scully pushes the remainder of her short rib around on her plate. Mulder has barely touched his fish.

The picture of Scully standing in the window of room 1055 at the Hilton has been projected on a giant screen behind the podium for the last several minutes, and Scully can feel the eyes of the gathered assemblage flitting to her on a near constant basis.

They’re probably thinking of her trauma, of her experience, and they have most certainly read the stories that were breathlessly published about her and Mulder. Most of them have seen up close and personal the ravages of war and upheaval. There are several journalists she knows here, acquaintances she left behind when she resigned from CNN. Most of them approached before the ceremony and politely inquired about her, her health, what she was up to now. Many with a sad, pitying look on their faces.

She sets down her fork and turns the wedding ring around in circles on her finger. She doesn’t feel pity when she looks at that picture. The look on that woman’s face displays nothing but courage, and the eye behind the camera nothing but love.

When Mulder heads up to the stage a moment later to be handed the certificate he won, the applause that spreads through the room is thunderous. His eyes never once leave hers.

5. The lobby of the auditorium is thick with people and humidity, joyous voices rising up over the static of tires sloshing over rainy streets just beyond the front doors. They’ve been back in the States for a week, but Scully still isn’t used to the crowds. The noise.

From behind her, Mulder touches the bare skin of her shoulder. He’s just returned from the coat check and holds up the red wool coat she’d had to buy at Nordstrom two days before. She puts her arms through the silken sleeves.

All around them winners and colleagues and friends are making plans to go out and celebrate their accomplishments. One man in a charcoal suit has a bottle of Veuve in his hand that he swiped off of one of the tables. Several people have invited them to join them.

Mulder tips his head to whisper in her ear.

“We can slip out right now when no one’s looking,” he says.

She doesn’t even wait to answer, using her small stature to slip in between several people and out into the cold damp.

They’ve been provided a town car and driver for the evening, but it’s too hard to find him in the chaos outside the auditorium, so they hail a cab instead. Once they’re on their way back to their hotel, Mulder pulls the certificate out from under his coat where it was sheltered from the rain and looks at it.

“I’m starving,” he says to the piece of paper.

“You barely ate,” Scully points out.

“I was nervous,” he explains.

Scully takes the certificate gently from his hands and looks at it. The gold foil. The calligraphy.

“If we call in a room service order now, it should be to our room by the time we get out of the shower,” she says.

“God I love you,” Mulder says reverently.

They gorge themsevles on cheeseburgers and truffle fries, and, on a whim, a bottle of champagne (Mumm’s rather than Veuve, as, Mulder points out, he isn’t about to spend his prize money on booze) as they sit around in fluffy white robes with HBO on mute on the big TV in the corner.

On the desktop, under their room key, sits the Pulitzer certificate.

“That’s as much yours as it is mine,” Mulder finally says to her, nodding towards it.

“Yes,” she agrees, and sets a half full glass of bubbles on the bedside table. She reaches for the terry cloth tie of his robe.

Later, it’s all soft sighs on soft sheets and Mulder fills her with himself until they become each other.

[ninapi]

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

*＊✿❀ First Timers ❀✿＊*

Premise: Falling in love for the first time can be really awkward, but once you find the one, even if you end up looking like an idiot, it's completely worth it.

Word Count: 2607

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Cat behavior is often inexplicable.

PekeJ had one of the worst habits there is to have in a cat and that is, leaving his house to explore town.

Chifuyu constantly had to suffer mini heart attacks when he saw it’s gone missing again, but seeing him actually jump out of his second floor window had to take the cake.

A loud gasp left his lips once his dear fluffy friend jumped out of his balcony as if it was his bed, his entire life as pet went through Chifuyu’s eyes…”PEKEJ NOOOOOO!” running over to his balcony, he saw him alive and well, swaying his little fluff butt as he walked down the street as if nothing had happened. Collapsing on the railing, Chifuyu tried to regain his breath and calm his wildly beating heart to run out and retrieve his friend before further troubles could arise from his mid afternoon rendezvous.

A few streets away he spotted him by the vending machines, however, as usual, he wasn’t alone.

He really enjoyed that spot of town, particularly the top of the snacks vending machine, it was a lovely spot for sunbathing, but today, the comfy lap of a human girl seemed just like the best choice for enjoyment.

Wind had fun playing with your beautiful hair, tickling the softness of your cheeks as you petted his belly in a loving manner. The cat stretched out completely in the entirety of your lap accepting all the affection you had to offer him.

Sighing at the spoiled attitude of his furry friend, Chifuyu decides is best to approach the stranger and retrieve him, you seemed nice enough not to hurt him but still, trusting strangers with your own family isn’t wise.

Once he’s close enough though, he realizes you aren’t a complete stranger, causing him to gasp once more. “You’re that one girl in Baji-san’s class, right? The one who worked with him for that English project?” 

You didn’t like talking about Baji, thinking he was indeed dead was a touchy subject still. He used to sit behind you in class and his empty seat still hunts you daily, even if you weren’t what you would call ‘friends’, having someone you know simply die out of nowhere can change your essence to your core, makes you realize not everyone has a future, no matter how nice they are.

“That’s me, yeah…” nodding with a sad smile on your lovely face you finally decide to look up from your lap, “Oh you were his friend, right? Chi…..mmmmm….Chi….” you hummed in thought as the kitten nuzzled your cheek.

Chifuyu kept making a ‘fu’ with his pouty lips as to give you a hint, but his face was just so cute that made you giggle, “Chi…haru?”

Deflating, he lets out a defeated sigh, "Fuyu…It’s Chifuyu actually…” he rubs the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh yeah! I knew it was a season! Chifuyu! How could I forget? Winter is my favorite season…” PekeJ decided to take a nap while you started giving more attention to his owner instead, making you smile at his soft little snores. “How about yours?”

“Huh?” he was honestly confused, talking with girls has never been one of his strong attributes. 

“Your favorite season?” God…why were you being this cute? The little glittery orbs the extreme sun was causing to reflect on your face caused an almost ethereal look on you, like if you were some sort of vision, a goddess even, it made him go completely blanc and he even forgot how talk for a minute there.

“Ugh…favorite…season...Not sure…Never thought about that…I guess I like summer? You can do a bunch of fun stuff and there’s no school…”… “and I got to meet such a beautiful angel….” The las part though, was just for himself, never leaving his lips.

“Summer, huh? A bit unexpected for someone who has winter as part of his name.” giggling, you scooted over to the side to make some space for him to sit with you on the sidewalk you were currently sitting at, of course he complied, his hand going to rest on his cat unconsciously.

“He most feel him in you…” his words were soft, sad even, startling you a bit.

“Him?”

“Baji-san…PekeJ used to escape and visit his home. Ever since he’s been gone…he’s been restless and a bit confused…but he seems to feel at home in your lap. Maybe he knows you were somewhat close to him in a way…” that got a smile out of you, animals can really be something else.

“Do you think he smells him in me? I do shower twice every day, that sounds a bit unlikely….”

“Hmmm…maybe is not his smell but like…how do I explain this…Baji-san had a way with people…he tended to make people’s heart warmer? Maybe he feels that warmth he craves so much in you…”

“I think I know what you mean…while we weren’t really close, just having him seat behind me made me see what kind of person he really was…” a tear rolls down your cheek, you’ve never really cried over the loss, you felt a bit awkward to cry over someone you’ve barely talked to in all your life. But Chifuyu embraced the feeling, and didn’t judge you at all whatsoever. 

“Hey…It’s ok…” he leaned closer and wiped the tear away with his thumb, “It must be really hard for you…being there in class every day…”

That broke you…your tears started to fall down on PekeJ’s fur which scared the hell out of him thinking it was raining, though, when he saw they came from you, he went over to your other cheek, cuddling you warmly while Chifuyu kept on trying to catch the falling little drops of sadness.

“It’s weird isn’t it? We weren’t friends or anything but I miss him being around…he was so nice to me…I don’t understand why he had to die like that…” 

Chifuyu was still definitely not over it yet and hearing your words just caused his own eyes to fill up with tears, a loud sniff coming from him catching your attention.

“I’m sorry, it’s selfish of me to act this way, you were his closest friend, I’m sure it’s been way worse for you…”

He shakes his head while wiping some snot away from his nose, “It makes me happy knowing someone else misses him too. That someone remembers him daily and think fondly of him…I know I must keep going…for him…but it’s hard…” you brought him into a tight embrace, gently rubbing his back while you both sobbed into each other’s neck.

“It’s ok…you can cry with me…let it all out…” 

PekeJ was just utterly confused, now even his owner was a watery mess, he honestly didn’t know what to do, so he just went in between the both of you to keep your bellies warm, something he knows his owner likes. 

And in all honesty was very comforting.

Not only having the support of his beloved pet friend, but also having someone to cry with, someone who doesn’t tell him to man up, to move on…someone he can really just be himself with, other than Baji-san, made his heart fill up with warmth.

Without noticing, you both spent a couple of hours just talking, reminiscing of old silly memories of Baji while sitting in front of a bush cuddling his cat and eating vending machine ice cream together. 

An unexpected way to spend your Sunday, but in all truth, none of you have had so much fun in quite some time.

It felt good to let that awful pressure off your chest, to cry it all out, then laugh as much as you can.

It felt good, for the first time in a while, to just be alive.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Chifuyu has never liked a girl before.

Of course, he’s seen pretty girls here and there, drool over some magazines, like any other teenage boy, but this was his first time really crushing over someone.

He couldn’t sleep, wasn’t hungry, even homework was a hassle for the poor guy. All he could think of had to do with you, your lovely giggles, how they make his stomach feel all bubbly, like gas, but a good kind of gas…your pretty eyes…he could just stare at them all day…the way PekeJ loves you so much…he knows whats good after all, always choosing the best people for him…

With a long sigh, he finally decides to send you a text, he’s been debating it since he returned home that day but didn’t feel right to bother you without a reason, so he thought of something, “Hey, did my wallet fall into your purse by any chance?”

“Winter boy! Hi!” you sent him a cute cat waving sticker and it melted his heart into a puddle, “I didn’t have a purse with me that day, sorry I haven’t seen your wallet :( “

Great, just great. He was a complete idiot. Of course you didn’t have a purse, he would have seen it…

“That’s ok, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s somewhere in my room. You must be busy, sorry I texted you out of nowhere…”

“I’m not busy~ 

Was actually thinking about you just now~”

Like a high school girl, he plopped down on his bed flat on his belly, legs swinging happily, “Oh yeah? What about?”

“Is it weird that I... kinda miss you?”

“Not at all, I think I miss you too…” both of your hearts were racing violently, none of you were expecting to have this conversation tonight and most definitely not while texting.

“You do?”

“Mhm”

“Wanna meet up? Maybe at the same place? That ice cream was surprisingly good…wanna try other flavors.”

“Meet you there in 5..” without even getting changed he ran out of his room, taking only his phone and some change with him. His hair was messy and he was wearing a silly cat print t-shirt, but you weren’t much different. Your hair was up in a side ponytail, and you were clearly on your lounge wear too, no make up, nothing. 

Both of you just ran out of your houses as fast as you could.

Panting heavily while looking at each other, you both just burst out laughing. “Nice shirt…”

“Nice hair…”

Giggling you both chose a different ice cream flavor from last time, Chifuyu not letting you pay for yours, and sat back on the sidewalk.

“Let me give you the coins I brought for it…”

“Don’t want them (Y/N), c’mon is just a dollar ice cream, nothing fancy…”

“But you lost your wallet!”

“I didn’t…it was just a silly excuse to text you…” he looked away, his cheeks as red as the cherry ice cream packaging in his hand.

“Why didn’t you just say hi?” your cute little laugh only made his heart go even wilder, his blush was physically painful for him at this point, making him feel feverish.

“I don’t know…how to do this…It’s the first time I’ve wanted to talk to someone this bad…but have nothing to say…” he was mumbling his words out quietly, fidgeting with the ice cream in his hands.

“I didn’t know what to say either, I kept staring at my phone thinking of things I could send you, but didn’t want to be seen as clingy…”

Your words snapped him out of his shy fit, “Really? You were like that too? I took at least twenty different pics of PekeJ so I could send them to you and have something to say…” he laughed, shaking his head in embarrassment.

“And why didn’t you send them!!! I would have loved to see them!” his heart had permanently moved to his throat, he could feel it throbbing there, intensely. 

“I didn’t know what to say! Can’t really text someone ‘hey I was thinking about you so I took this pic of my cat so I don’t look like a complete clingy idiot’ don’t you think?” his frustrated outburst made you blush and laugh, he was so cute, it made your heart swell with affection.

“I know, I wanted to do the very same thing but I guess we indeed are a couple of idiots…” your loving smile made a hole in his stomach, he’s never wanted to hold someone this bad before, not even his cat…

“I guess we are…” his hand was itchy, he wanted to hold yours in his, and so he started tapping his fingers very close to your own on the sidewalk.

“Do you have them still?”

“The pics?”

“Yeah! I would like to see them!”

Nodding, Chifuyu pulled out his phone and you pressed yourself even closer to him so you could see his screen. This made him sweat buckets, you were so soft, so warm…the summer heat wasn’t working on his favor either even if it was later in the evening and the sun was now asleep.

“He’s so silly look.” 

He showed you a bunch of pictures of him trying to catch a little bird on his balcony, of him chewing on his own tail, of him asleep over one of his pillows…Each picture was cuter than the last one, making you giggle happily and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“He’s so cute…I guess it’s true what they say. The pets and their owners end up looking alike~” 

“Does that mean I’m silly?”

“Means you’re cute, silly.” 

That made his teenage hormones rage, this was the first time in his entire life he wanted to kiss someone, it was such a desperate feeling, he felt like tugging his hair out of his head, he needed to do this, right now. But how? Was it that simple? He needs your permission first is not like he can just-

When he looked down at you, you had your eyes closed, your lips puckering out cutely. 

That counts as consent right?

This was most likely your first time kissing someone too, as you looked like a cute manga character waiting to be kissed. This made him grin, you were adorable, if you were to hate him for kissing you out of nowhere he’d be devastated, but he couldn’t take it anymore.

He lowered his head, drinking in your cute little face before pressing his lips lightly to yours.

The kiss wasn’t wild, nor sensual. It was soft, gentle, full of wonder and curiosity. 

Your hand reached his, and you just stayed there pressing your lips together like the idiots you were for minutes on.

“I think we are doing something wrong-“ he mumbled against your lips, making you chuckle.

“Yeah I think we are supposed to move our lips-“

“Ok, ok let’s try again-“

After some trial and error, you both managed to have a real first kiss, full of longing, of young love, expectations of a bright happy future imprinting themselves in the kiss.

This was your first time kissing a guy, your first time falling in love.

And so it was Chifuyu’s.

"Here have some of my ice cream, it's yummy."

"Oh I know, your lips taste like cherry.."

"Ugh...right...you did taste a bit like chocomint too.." being with someone has never been this fun, sharing every bit of you with someone, even your own sadness, can be very rewarding. Specially when that someone was as cute as you.

"Hey...do you want to...you know...like...maybe ugh...be my....you know what I mean don't you?"

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah that..." his blushing came back stronger than ever, not very manly but he just couldn't help it when you were involved.

"That would be lovely...yeah."

You both could swear you heard Baji's little approving laugh in the background. Even if it was impossible, it somehow felt like he was looking over you, over your union, and that just made it all so much better, more meaningful.

You both still didn't fully know what dating someone entailed, but both knew that as long as you were together, everything would be alright.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

Masterlist

[locklyle-for-a-long-while]

“But now…”

Lockwood is so vulnerable in this moment.

He’s responding directly to what she said just before she stormed away from him and into their house:

“What does it even matter if we end up stabbed, or dead at the bottom of the Thames with nobody left to care?!

This doesn’t feel like winning.”

He stood there stunned, watching her go.

Hours before, he had stood in the same spot near a different taxi, watching her stride towards him in the same blue dress with the wind in her hair. She was a vision. He smiled despite himself.

“So it’s just us”

“Is that alright?” He had asked, as she held his gaze, her smile warming him thoroughly in the chill air, his heart pounding as he held the cab door for her.

There was no smile for him now.

And it was all his fault.

After showering off the river and putting on a fresh set of clothes, he’s had a quiet moment to think about what she said in anger… and how right she was to say it. She has the truth of the matter- he put them in terrible danger and they only barely survived the night. He was so reckless and careless and utterly foolish. The self loathing voice in his head threatens to take over as the weight of it settles on his mind. She’d be right to leave him, to hate him and never forgive him, he thinks, and the thought almost breaks his heart. Self loathing collides with a sense of desperation— she can’t leave me …I need her… I’ve fallen completely and desperately in love with Lucy …and I can’t—I mustn’t— screw this up, …if I haven’t already. He takes a slow breath and gathers himself, mentally rehearsing his apology before finding her in the kitchen.

He struggles through the apology… it’s not enough. The words feel like they’re falling flat and sound hollow in his ears. He moves closer, unsure if that will help but compelled to be close, drawn to her as always.

“I just wanted to say, don’t give up on us— please”

She drops the butter knife and it clangs to the plate.

He knows he’s got it wrong- he’s barely half way to the truth. He moves closer, compelled to see her and desperate to look into her eyes. He turns his body to her, she hesitates, still and waiting.

“Or, what I really should say is… don’t give up on me.”

Now she turns to him, and he’s grateful for it. Though her expression is unreadable, she gives him strength to show her his darkness. It’s her strength now that compels him:

“To be honest the bottom of the Thames used to be a far more appealing place to be.

And really no one would have cared.

But now…”

Is almost a question he poses, it’s so tentative.

There’s so much unsaid after those two words, and he has to believe it’s enough and she already knows the rest:

But now… Now I want to live. Because of you, Lucy. You came along and gave me something to live for.

But now, maybe someone would care if I ended up at the bottom of the Thames. I didn’t dare to think you cared about me, Lucy… but then you went and told me so. It was just before we went into Winkman’s auction earlier that night.

I was frustrated and rash and I said “when my time comes I don’t plan on leaving anyone behind who’s going to stare at that door every night, wishing I would just walk through it one more time”

And then you stopped me in my tracks:

“Well you should have never let me in, or George, because now it’s far too late.”

And that left me speechless.

So yes, I can say something as profound and crazy as “but now…” because I dare to believe you, Lucy. I have to try to believe you, to believe that I matter to someone. To two people even, my best friends that I love dearly and one that I love so deeply that it terrifies me.

“But now…”.

Silence. I have no more words. And I hope it’s enough.

I can only stare into her eyes, totally at her mercy, waiting for whatever she might say next …fully knowing it can break me. But what else can I do. I’m wrecked for her. And I’m a complete idiot and we both know it and she’d be right to reject my apology, to reject me. I stand with bated breath, looking into her beautiful eyes not daring to hope for forgiveness.

“Grenadier guard or policeman”

I exhale.

A wave of relief floods through my chest as the tension I didn’t know I held is released. I struggle to stand composed, this close to her while I’m taken by a flood of gratefulness and love for this fierce and brilliant girl who has —and forever will have— my heart.

[zweetpea]

Eternity or Stasis part 2 of 2

…

“WOAH WOAH WOAH!! Language! Hehe, Steve… anyway. Previously on… whatever the hell this is!”

“Who are they talking to?” Aether asks

“I, Gen, got shot and ended up here! Then the Raiden Shogun’s army kidnapped me and brought me here!” You wrap your arm around Ei’s shoulders.

“Please stay away from me.”

“Wow! Okay, I see how it is.” You unwrap your arm from around her shoulder. “I thought you were Bae, turns out you’re just Fam. Jk I respect your boundaries.”

Lumine comes up to you. “Gen!” She smacks you. “Pull it together!” She shakes you by your collar.

“Listen listen listen Linda! I appreciate your help mkay, I really do, but you need to take a step back.”

“What is wrong with you?” Aether asks.

“I’m a little meshed up.” You smile.

“We can tell.” Lumine rolls her eyes.

“So uh, what did you guys say your names were? Sorry I’m kinda bad with names.” You ask.

“My name is Sky and this is my sister Light.” Aether smiles and waves.

“…hi.” She rolls her eyes.

“So… good job warding off Dvalin and Osial but I have the Raiden Shogun covered. The talk no jutsu worked. I was just like, you need to fix your attitude and outlook on life and apparently that worked.”

“Well of course. You are the one Celestia fears. There is no doubt in my mind that you are wise.”

“Oh stop Ei! You’re making me blush.” You giggle. “Anyway please let us out. Then take over your puppet and we’ll get to work on fixing your nation.”

“Alright.” Ei opens the rift and the three of you exit. “Everyone! This is the Adored one! The one Celestia fears! Centuries ago the Archons held a meeting in Celestia and we were informed of a prophecy of someone who would take down Celestia and liberate Teyvat! This is that person.” Ei shouted. “Go on. Tell them about how we’re going to fix Inazuma.”

“Me?! Oh uh. Hi everyone! My name is Gen, with a G. I’m gender fluid. So we’re going to be giving back all of the Visions and pardoning everyone on Watatsumi Island.”

After about an hour of diplomatic work you were finally able to walk around the city with the twins and Paimon.

“It’s nice to meet you! Paimon is Paimon. These are the Stardust travelers.”

“It’s nice to meet you Paimon! You are just adorable!”

“Aww. Thank you. Ehehehe!”

“So where do we want to go?” You asked.

“How about we meet up with Ayaka and Thoma?” Aether suggests.

“Sure.” You smile.

You four make your way down to the Yae Publishing House. There stood Thoma, Ayaka, and Ayato actually.

“Thoma! Ayaka! And… who is this?” Paimon cheers.

“Hello travelers! This is my older brother Ayato.”

‘Obilf’ you think.

“And who is this?” He smiled towards you.

“You can call me whatever you like handsome.” You smirk.

“Well how about Gen then.”

“Okay.” You smile sadly. ‘I’m this close to boning Jeht’s dad. I was promise debauchery!’ Grr. Your stomach grumbles. “Heh, sorry I haven’t eaten all day.”

“You poor thing. Come with me, I’ll get you some food.” Ayaka takes your hand. ‘Forget Ayato. Ayaka being wife material right now.”

“Thank you! The beauty of you soul compliments the beauty of your face.” She blushes at your compliment.

Your group makes their way back into the city and you head to the komore tea house.

“Cute! Puppy!” You cheer.

“This is Taromaru.” Thoma introduces.

“Hi sweetie.” He nuzzles into your palm. “This is the greatest day of my life. I’m so happy I might cry!”

Lumine rolls her eyes as Aether chuckles. We all go to sit in one of the rooms and sat at the table. Thoma, Ayaka and Ayato on one side. You and the twins on the other. You sat across from Thoma; Aether sat next to you on your right across from Ayaka; and Lumine sat on the end across from Ayato. Paimon floated beside Lumine. 

The seven of you chatted and ate. “Sky you have to try this!” You held out some food in between your chopsticks.

“Oh sure.” He takes a bite. “That’s really good!”

“I know right!”

“Here you should try some of mine.” He gives you some of his.

“This is so tasty!”

“I’m glad you enjoy our cuisine!” Ayaka cheered.

“I enjoy your face more~ sorry I’m letting the intrusive thoughts win.”

After the meal you and the twins and Paimon left for the wilderness.

“Well I should probably let you guys be for the night.”

“Yeah, good night.” Lumine grimaced.

As you were walking through the mountain side you were ambushed by fatui agents.

 You held out your hand and…

…nothing happened.

“WHAT?!” Your delusion glowed purple. “You motherfu-” a blast of Hydro knocks you unconsciously.

When you wake up you’re bound and gagged. ‘Kinky’ you think, as you stare up at a short man in black and red with violet hair and violet eyes.

“Finally! We meet face to face the one Celestia fears. I only have one thing to say to you.” He grabs you under your chin. “I intend to marry you.”

[silent-raven13]

High School AU

(Au: All the Spider gang are in high school except for Miguel, Peter, Jess, Ben, and etc. Miles and Hobie are dating. Gwen is Grunge aesthetic with Hobie's group of friends. Pavtri is dating Gayatri being the typical high school sweethearts.)

In Brooklyn Vision Academy, Miles giggles being pin against the school lockers while his tall skinny punker's hand on his waist muttering very dirty, yet romantic words towards the graffiti artist.

Miles is only seventeen years old having on his white collar uniform with spray paint stains and embroidered sunflowers on it, his blue jacket around his waist. His hairstyles into twist part is dye red.

The Academy may be strict on their educational system, and provide more opportunities, they are quite strict on dress code. Luckily, Miles always stated he's part of the art club and they are working on a massive mural right outside in the courtyard.

However as for Hobie, the punker didn't care how many dentition, warnings and all the other lectures, he does what he wants and wears what he wants. And he never steps out of bound from the dress-code policy, he specified how his ripped pants is suitable for low income students, and brings up classism. Either way, the principal normally left him off the hook not wanting to hear him.

So here's Hobie with his wicks tied into a bright blue loose ponytail, he wore two belts of different colors of yellow and pink, and miss match shoes and socks. His blue pants with patches, ripped white collar shirts and piercings. His lips painted black, wearing eyeliner and a messy smokey black eyeshadow with a bit of dark purple. All breaking dress code in the eyes of older teachers.

The seventeen year old teenager smirks at his boyfriend having to whisper to him again, "Mi, you gonna ditch Spanish or what?" His lips hovering over his Sunflower's lips as they make out.

Miles wraps his arms around his punker's neck, "Bae, you know I can't miss Spanish. My mamí got mad for having a B in class."

"Tsk," His punker sucked in his teeth then whispers again, "Luv, you can skip a couple of classes. Yuh a smart lad." His cockney accent coming out from time to time.

"Mmm," Miles' big doe eyes on his hot boyfriend, still thinking about it. When he thinks to himself, he does this put pout where his lips puckered out.

Hobie's heart flutter by his Sunflower's cuteness. Ugh, he wants to be greedy for today, so he flirted some more. "Come on, Sunflower." He purrs having his voice low, his hands pulling his boyfriend's hips forward feeling his crotch. "Don't do me like this. I want you to go to my pad and maybe we can you know."

"I know what?" His Sunflower asked pretending to not know what his boyfriend means.

"You know," The tall teenager leans over for another kiss, his lips feeling such soft sweet lips. The sounder of their lip locking echoes up in the third floor in building A, a place no one is ever around. "Hmm?"

"Mmm," Miles sighs loving how great of kisser his boyfriend is, "Okay, but if I get in trouble I'm gonna be mad at you."

"Luv, I'll take all the blame as long I'm with you." They made out with tongue this time, Hobie purrs lowly as he pull away, "Your so fine, right now. I gotta have you." His mouth hungry for more as he went in another heated kiss.

"Ohh, mmm." His Sunflower's knees felt weak feeling those soft lips. Pulling away to kiss him, "Bae, you're too much."

"But you love it." This made Miles bashful, he does love it when his boyfriend spoil him. They were about to kiss again, until one of the doors to the second floor opened wide open. The two froze seeing their happy bubbly friend spotting them.

"I knew you two would be up here!" The brown skinned preppy boy happily said, he saw Hobie looking annoyed. "Awe, don't be mad."

"Pav! What are you doing up here?" Miles asked. He tries to avoid his boyfriend's grumpy attitude.

"Gwen kept texting you if your gonna skip your last class, but never responded." Pavtri chuckles, "and I knew it's because ya'll were up here. Were you the ones leaving used condoms on the staircase." Just joking around, he likes seeing Miles' face. So priceless!

"What! No!" The Black Latino looks so horrified like hell he'll get caught in the school. Sure him and his boyfriend done things like touching each other, but never full blown sex in the school staircase. "That's so ballsy! I'm not the type!"

Hobie chuckles, his Sunflower is too cute. His arms wrapping around his hips. "He's only teasing, Sunflower."

"Yeah, like you ever done that." Pavtri cracks up. "Anyway, are we down at your pad, Hobie?"

"Miles said yes, so yeah. We should get going!" The punker chimes.

"Alright, I'll go let the gang know. See ya there." Their friend left them alone, which was a lot better.

The punker was about to go back to kissing his boyfriend, until a hand stops him. "What?"

"If I'm skipping, I need to get my art supplies from my club. I left it in the art class instead of my locker." Miles pointed out. "And my painting is there."

"Okay, we'll go get it, but first..." His mouth went in for another kiss. The two happily share kisses.

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

Rudy's favourite nickname for Mini is jaan. It means life, but it's also a reassurance for the daughter of death. A child who's so well-acquainted with her father in one of the worst ways. She's surrounded by death every day— she sees it in her patients, she herself had to protect them from death several times. He could see it wearing down on her, that shadow of death dimming her bright spark of light, so he decided to whisper that nickname. In an unguarded moment, when she laughed freely, hiding a perpetual sadness. She was confused, and she asked her question with a laugh: "Why that nickname? I hope you're aware you sound like every main character of every Bollywood movie,"

He just smiles and buries his face in the crook of her neck, saying, "Well, it's true, you are jaan."

She just snickered, calling him sappy and cringey, but he couldn't help but notice how she brightened every time he called her that. Like a spark turning into a new flame.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THIS IS HUMANITIES 11TH HOUR I THINK KIAN WAS RIGHT. THERE WAS SO MUCH HE COULD HAVE DONE BETTER BUT HE DID IT FOR GREAT REASON. THEIR RELATIONSHIP MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL. EVEN THE ECHO OF SOMEONE IS IN LOVE WITH YOU, AND THE ECHO OF YOU LOVES THEM TOO. they COPIED A HUMAN DOWN TO THEIR BASIC CIRCUTRY AS A SURVIVAL INSTINCT AND THE VERY WIRES STILL LOVE YOU. ITS THE ATMOSPHERE. ITS THE DISCORDANT AND SAD YET YEARNING CORDS IN THE AIR AS THE SKY REDDENS. ITS A WISH FOR SOMETHING MORE, PRESSING AGAINST INEVITABLE GLASS, CLEARLY NO HOPE OF CONTINUING OR BLOSSOMING. A PAINTING OF A MEMORY THEY WANT TO BE MAKING WITH NO CONCLUSION.

[july-19th-club]

love an ending that is 'happy' in that a desirable outcome is produced, but made complicated by the fact that the protagonist has given up something integral to themself in order to make it so. it's sort of uncool in some circles to admit you LIKE when characters give up something really cool for something pretty basic, but it's all about context and quality of storytelling, right? that sort of conviction - this is a part of my personality that i am permanently renouncing access to, and it's my choice, and i'm going to miss it, but i'm not going to regret it - that's compelling. ending in which a character who loves nothing more than the rush of finding the answer to a question is handed, one day, a puzzle they just don't want to solve. and that part of their life is over, but it's not a bad thing. maybe the answer doesn't need to be known. maybe not knowing it opens you up to a creative mindset you never had before. character who gains some kind of special power chooses to give it up not because they no longer love the ability, not because it hasn't improved their life, but because this thing they love comes with costs, is getting in the way of a life someone they love or loved and lost would want them to live. i'm glad it turned out this way. i miss the missing thing with all my heart. i would let go of it again if i was asked to choose.

[talentforlying]

i'm about to run off to class but i've been going positively apeshit about shakespeare for the last three hours so like: what shakespeare play would y'all most associate your muses with?? in terms of story themes, related aesthetics, character arcs/tropes, etc?? or see if i can assign them one that fits if you'd like, idk, i'm vibing

[good-beanswrites]

Finally finished my charts for the upcoming translyric projects I want to do and ough... these are going to be so much harder than my first two ;---;