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demonicheadcanons · 3 years

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Obey Me Brothers + Little Affections

AN: Keep thinking about the little things each brother would do to express affection. Some warm fluffy stuff because we all need it. Enjoy!!

The hair drying one on Lucifer’s sparked this entire thing thanks

Lucifer

- Washing and drying your hair. You know if you get your hair washed at a hairdressers and they just. Go to town with a towel drying your hair? He finds it hilarious and loves doing that. You’ll hear him chuckle, unable to see him because your face is covered by the towel. He’s softer towards the end but initially when trying to get most of the excess water his only concern is not actually hurting you. He’s also genuinely trying to help, just having a little fun with it at the same time.

- Continuing on from this, Lucifer will ruffle your hair. If it doesn’t really upset you, he loves to make a mess of it, and he grins at you, your hair sticking out every which way.

- The second his brothers aren’t around, he seems to canonically love holding your hand under the guise of keeping track of you or comforting you. Its partially true - the MC gets into trouble easily, so its good to keep a hand on them. However, the comforting affect goes both ways.

- Sharing information with you implies a close bond (or at the very least, a strong curiosity, like when he hints at where Mammon’s card is / when he talks about the album) and it means Luci cares about you a lot. He likes to talk about his interests and introduce you to things he cares a lot about. A lot of the time this comes in the form of music, because it’s something he’s able to enjoy whilst still doing his work.

- Doing origami or other paper crafts together? Really relaxes him. It’s so peacefully intimate and cosy. You sit together at his desk, work documents hidden out of sight for now, and make whatever you can out of colourful little bits of paper. He likes making flowers, although he’d never say it out loud, but he makes you countless crowns with paper flowers of all different kinds. You walk in one day when he’s taking a break from work and he’s got paper cranes lining the entire length of his desk. He calls you over and puts one on your head for absolutely no reason before acting like it never happened.

- If no one else is around and he’s feeling a bit daft, he’ll sweep you up into his arms with no warning and just hold you like that, staring directly into your eyes with a daring and loving smile on his face. This happens most when it’s late at night and all the coffee he’s had is starting to wear off and he feels a little more relaxed and open. He’ll carry you to his room to cuddle, too, if you don’t have anywhere else you need to be. Just pray none of his brothers encounter you two because he’ll set you down on your feet immediately and he won’t help you up if you fall.

[[Other Brothers under the read more]]

Mammon

- Fist bumps!!! He passes you and holds his fist out, and pouts if you don’t immediately bump your hand into his. Do the snail or turkey thing once and he falls in love with it. Lucifer, tired and stressed after a lot of work, decides for once to go along with giving him a fist bump because he’s too tired and no one else is around, and Mammon does the snail thing. The look on Luci’s face is worth everything that happened after. But when its you, Mammon just smiles and beams at you. He’s really happy.

- Sitting so close together that you can’t possibly move without disturbing the other. Sides fully pressed together even if he doesn’t have an arm around you or your hand in his. He likes the constant contact, it’s healing. So heavily invested in whatever you’re watching that the two of you simply don’t realise how close you are until the episode ends and you realise you’re leaning your full weight against him and his face is red but he’s smiling so softly you can’t bring yourself to move.

- You’ll have to start the habit, but, tackle hugs. You see him in the distance somewhere and sprint over and tackle him full force. He’ll act mad at first, especially if he trips and falls over or he’d been talking with someone else, but he holds onto you tightly and his face is beautifully flushed. After a while he’ll do it too, although he’s a lot gentler, but if you hear him call your name you need to turn around quickly and hold your arms out. He’ll lift you up into the air and twirl you around once or twice before just, going on with his day as normal. You hear his laughter as he walks away, bright and bubbly and confident, exactly as he should be.

- The absence of insults is important for Mammon. He’ll tolerate it if it’s every now and then but he’ll really notice if you’re always kind to him, he pays attention and holds tightly on to every compliment you give him. When he feels low he finds you and holds you in his arms, fingers playing with the loops in your jeans, as he recites off every nice thing you’ve said to him, hoping you’ll reaffirm them. Did you mean it when you said he was one of the most caring people you’d ever met? When you said his eyes made you feel at home?

- He likes feeding the crows with you. It’s something he does without telling anyone, but one day he takes you out along with him and the crows take a liking to you instantly. He likes how you look with his crows standing proud and confident on your arm, your hair a mess from their flapping wings as you laugh and try to get the last bits of food out from the bag.

- If you style his hair and put random accessories in it - anything from silly plastic hair clips to flowers to feathers - he’ll keep them in all day. He doesn’t care who sees because his MC spent their time doing this for him, and he’s happy to tell anyone who dares criticise him.

Leviathan

- He’s awkward with any affection at first, but he actually builds up to quick tight hugs when he’s really happy. If he’s incredibly excited - just won tickets for something, or some idol liked his comments - expect to be tackled in a hug. He gets flustered after, but if you hold tightly onto him he won’t let go immediately.

- If they even vaguely relate to his own interests, Levi will try hard to be invested in anything you really enjoy. For example, he’ll watch your favourite shows with you or try and read things you enjoy, etc.

- At the same time, Levi will share his interests with you. It’s not something he can really avoid doing as it’s ingrained in him to ramble about his special interests, but it will come in seemingly smaller forms - for example, he’ll hand you his headphones one day, blushing, and ask what you think of this song, or he’ll show you a paragraph in a TSL book that has particularly good rhythm or evokes a lot of emotion. If he lends you his books or DVDs it’s practically a proposal.

- You two have full conversations with Henry as he swims about in his tank. About silly and pointless things or very serious topics, from jokingly scolding him to venting about the future and about school and such. It warms Levi’s heart.

- Horn pats. When he’s in his demon form, pull him down to your level and pat his horns. He’s so flustered he can’t move the first few times, but one day he’ll start coming up to you and asking you if you want to do it. He likes being able to be in his demon form, and likes that you’re comfortable with him even when he doesn’t look as human.

- When he’s very comfortable with you, he likes to wrap you up in surprise hugs and laughs if you try to squirm your way out of his grip, a brilliant mischievous glow in his eyes, any self-consciousness long forgotten.

Satan

- I’ve said this before on another post but Satan likes to pet your hair and run his thumbs over your palms, pressing into them gently like he’s touching the pads on the paws of a cat. He traces circles and presses kisses into your palm and over each finger tip and knuckle, like it’s his own form of worship.

- It takes a long time to build up the confidence to do so but I can see him like. Playfully nipping at your skin if he presses light kisses against your shoulders or neck. If it makes you laugh or blush he smiles against your skin.

- If you fall asleep somewhere he’s the first person to go get a blanket to throw over you - he’d rather just let you sleep if you’re somewhere safe instead of disturbing you to lift you elsewhere, and risking waking you up. Occasionally he’ll kneel down beside you and stay there with a book until you wake up, and he’s fallen asleep like that once or twice.

- Just. Talking. Laying down together and going from topic to topic, saying whatever crosses your minds with no filters and no judgement. Letting time pass by with the comfort of the other, laying on your back in the planetarium or library or in his room, wherever there aren’t books piled up. No responsibilities except to listen to the other, and every now and then you laugh and he feels like maybe this could be home.

Asmodeus

- Sharing things, whatever it is. Food, clothes, jewellery. Taking a necklace off and putting it on him because “this would go so well with your outfit,” or holding out your fork and telling him to try some of your food, it tastes heavenly. Perfume, as well, is a must - he wants the two of you to smell the same.

- Like Mammon, he likes to have some kind of contact with you at all time - holding hands, an arm across your shoulders, anything. But the main point of contact he truly adores is if he has his hands on the skin of your stomach or back, even in the most innocent way possible. If his arms are around you and you’re comfortable with it, he’ll tuck his hands under your shirt and trace shapes against your hips, stomach, back, lower ribcage. Wherever he can. It’s something he’ll do absentmindedly without everything thinking about it, and it recharges him when he’s low on energy.

- He actually really likes working alongside you, whether it’s school work or something related to a part time job, or a potential business idea. He’s smarter than anyone would give him credit for and he loves how you look when you’re deep in thought, trying to solve something, and how your eyes light up as you figure it all out. He’s not one to just give you the answer to things, so if he knows something and you don’t he likes to hint at it like it’s a game. When you guess the answer right he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose and beams at you.

- Late night phone calls where you talk about whatever’s keeping you awake. He doesn’t mind who’s calling who, he wants to ramble or listen to you at any given moment and he’ll give up his sleep if it means you can get something that’s bothering you off your chest. Similarly, there is no greater comfort for him than getting to complain to you about something or other, something that’s genuinely bothering him and that’s stuck in his head. He feels like it only disappears when you take a hold of it for him for a little bit.

Beelzebub

- Sharing food, obviously, means a lot to him. Feed him bites of your food, give him anything you don’t want, and he’ll love it. He especially loves if you share food that’s important to you in some way, and you’ll find him giving you little bites of his food too the closer you two get. It means a lot to him when people embrace the fact that he eats so much, instead of scolding him for it or making jokes about it.

- He really likes holding hands. Your hands are so small in his and yet you trust him not to injure them as you pull him along. He feels possessive sometimes but isn’t outwardly affectionate enough to do anything about it, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. It’s the perfect thing for him.

- Stacking random things on the other. Sitting cross-legged in a park, pulling daisies out of the lawn that’s about to be mowed anyway and gently placing them into each other’s hair, on the other’s shoulders and laps. If you’re laying in his bed he’ll take random light objects off his night stand and place them on top of you. There’s no purpose and no intention, and yet it makes him smile and gives him butterflies, and he laughs if you glare jokingly up at him but let him continue.

- Run your hands through his hair, down the sides of his face, under his jaw. Anywhere. He melts in an instant, mouth slightly open as you poke his cheeks or tickle his neck and shoulders with feather light touches.

Belphegor

- Nap. On. Him. Any time, any where. Snuggle up to him, lean your head against his shoulder or bury your face into his neck or lay down on his lap and just rest. He blushes every time and it takes him a second to recover. Sometimes he’ll angle himself so he can lean against you two and he’ll fall asleep as well.

- He likes those kind of monkey hugs where you wrap your entire body around him and he can bury his face in your neck and hold on as tight as he wants. He’ll walk around like that until you get to the attic and he can throw you into his pile of pillows and blankets, and he flops down on top of you and clings onto you again, trying to hide his face because he’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

- He loves playful, back and forth banter. He’ll tease you constantly, loves if you pout at him, loves it more if you retort with something and keep it running for a while before the two of you start laughing.

- Being childish. He’ll stick out his tongue at you or pull a sudden face and he expects you to do it back immediately. If you don’t he’ll poke and tickle you, telling you how disappointed and hurt he is.

- Headbumps! But not too hard. Gently bump your head against his shoulder to get his attention and he’ll pat it. Bonus points if you nuzzle into his hands then - he’s hard to fluster but you can hear him swallow as he starts to go red. You’ll immediately have all of his attention to yourself.

- Belphie is the king of silent conversations. The tiniest gestures, nods, tilts of the head. He can pick up on all of them, knows exactly what you’re trying to say without you saying it, to the point where sometimes you won’t even realise you’re not talking aloud.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me Satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #I might do more later but this is all I can think of right now #obey me headcanons #my headcanons #my writings #queued #there are little bits of angst if you squint hard enough

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

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Crystal Clear

A/N: Here’s some fluff, friends to lovers I’ve had going on while I work on something bigger :))

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“Y/N,” a strange man calls my name. I look him up and down but I don’t think I know him.

“Who’s asking?”

“Y/N, it’s me? Harry.”

“Oh,” I laugh and greet him how I would have if I’d recognized him under all those layers, in a great big hug. “Your disguise is brilliant!”

“It’s not a disguise,” he says into his coat. “It’s bloody cold here.”

“Coldest day so far,” I accept the hot chocolate from the vendor and ask him for another, Harry could use one, poor thing. His plans this week were changed last minute, and since he was in New York City where his best childhood friend lived, he decided to actually hang out with me. Ever since he got famous, it was hard to catch time with him.

“Did the cold freeze all the English out of you? You’re not even wearing mittens,” Harry accepts his own cup from the vendor.

“I’m got them in my pocket,” I point to the bulge on the side of my coat as we step aside and make our way deeper into the winter festival that was at Bryant Park. “Don’t insult me, I can still make a better cup of tea than you ever could.”

“There she is,” I hear the smile in Harry’s voice more than I see it. It truly was ridiculous--not only was he wearing the thickest parka I’d ever seen, he also had on a beanie and a scarf, as well as knit gloves that held tightly to his hot chocolate.

“I’m always here, you’re just too busy to see me.”

“Not this again,” he groans. I was always giving him grief every time he touched down to NYC but didn’t pop by for a visit. I knew he had a hectic schedule, and even though I wasn’t that bothered I still liked to tease him.

“It’s true, you come to the city so often but I see you once a year. And maybe again when I’m in London if I get lucky.”

“I’m busy Y/N, I talk to you all the time!”

“I know,” I elbow him. “I just like to rile you up.”

“Well now that you’ve got that out of your system,” he tugs my hat over my eyes. “Where are we going next?”

I push it back up, “I thought we could just wander the shops, then get on the skating rink if you’re not frozen to death.”

“Alright I’ve got to pick some gifts up anyway let’s see what’s here.”

We make a good team as we visit stands selling ornaments and kitschy decor, handmade gifts, and hot cider. We sift through exactly what we might want, or what the other’s looking for. And with the light dusting of snow coming down, and the bright lights strung around the Park, it was like walking in a Christmas movie.

“Look at this,” I point ahead. We’d nearly visited all the stands and holiday shops but a festive psychic advertises their services in a small glass booth. “Should we?”

“It’s a waste of money,” Harry scoffs. “She’s just going to read your body language.”

“She might be the real deal-”

“You can’t be serious-”

“C’mon!” I tug his gloves hand and it takes a few but he stumbles towards me. It’s slightly warmer inside and I notice the space heater running in the corner. “At least it’s warm” I whisper to Harry.

“You really want to do this?” He asks one last time.

“It’s just $10-”

“$20 for the two,” the woman almost shifts out of the wall and I hide my jump with a laugh. There’s a curtain behind her, I realize, she must have stepped out.

“It’s just me,” I clarify.

She eyes Harry and Harry eyes her back. “You look familiar.”

“Just have that face,” he shrugs, burrowing into his scarf. “I’m just here to watch.”

She stares at him a moment longer before settling at the small table. I flash Harry a smile before sitting down myself, setting my bags onto the floor.

“Palm reading, cards, what will it be dear?” The psychic asks. I remember the sign out front said cards would be more than having my palm read so I opt for the cheaper option.

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully as she traces the lines on my palm. I wriggle my eyebrows at Harry and he rolls his eyes, but he stays watching her like a hawk. It was cute how overprotective he got sometimes. The psychic glances up to catch him watching her, she then glances at me and tilts her head.

“I see longevity, in life and love, a few bumps but you’re a strong persistent woman.”

Harry grumbles behind me and I resist the urge to say something to him.

“I see success after hard, hard work. But a big success that will change the course of your career.”

“Wow, how soon?” I ask.

“Mmm, after a big milestone. Turning 30?” she continues to examine my hand. “I see a second life later in life, with kids...just one no maybe two children.”

“How about her love life?” Harry asks. “Her last love s’not too nice.”

“Seriously Harry?” I turn to glare this time. He’s grinning with flushed cheeks, knowing it was a sore spot he liked to say i told you so to. It was true, he had told me so about my 3 year relationship but I’d ignored him.

“Your love life,’ the woman speaks up. “Shows me two great loves. One cuts short, the other is as long as your life line.”

“Ooh,” I lean in, interested. “I think I know about the one that was cut short. Tell me about the second!”

“This second...” she traces my palm and I feel a tingle. “This second love is very close, a bit rocky but it will last.”

“A bit rocky?”

“Hm,” she chews her bottom lip. “Time, distance...it will make it rocky. But it lasts.”

“So how close is close?” I ask eagerly.

“Close,” she says with a smile that tells me I wasn’t getting anything else out of her.

“That’s a bit vague isn’t it?” Harry pipes up from the back.

“The future isn’t always crystal clear,” she says without looking up at him.

“Lay off,” I scold him.

“It’s okay, I get nonbelievers all the time.” She laughs. “That will be $10 dear.” When I hand her the bill she stops me as she takes it. “A little free advice?”

“Sure.” I pick up the bags I placed on the floor earlier.

"Don’t be so focused on the life you want that you don’t see the life you have around you.”

“I’ve actually told her that before,” Harry decides we want more of his unsolicited opinions. “Maybe there is something true to all of this.”

“Thanks,” I pocket her words for later. Harry was right, he’d said something along those lines to me before, especially when it came to giving up control and going with the flow on trips and events with him. I always declined his offers, we lived a modest life growing up and accepting these gifts from him always felt so excessive. I wanted to make my own way in the world, but Harry always had something to say. “And sorry for his attitude, he’s not always this rude.”

“Yeah,” Harry shifts forward. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m a lot nicer usually.”

“I know,” she smiles.

“She’s psychic,” I remind him.

“I’m also online,” she laughs. “Can I get a picture?”

Harry eyes me, before going in for a selfie with her. I know he usually didn’t mind getting asked in smaller settings but he’d admitted it was something he was still getting used to. It had been a couple years since he became so famous, in such a short amount of time I went from being able to go down to a local pub with my best friend to schedules and security details and a whole other list of complications. Sometimes I hated it, mostly I was happy for him.

“Another day, another fan.” I tell Harry after we walk away from the psychic and he flips me off. “Should we get something to eat and get out of the cold?”

“God yes,” Harry shivers. “Can we just go to yours?”

“Let’s go,” I loop my arm through Harry’s.

Harry wants instant warmth so he hails a cab and we pick up takeout once we reach my neighbourhood. Harry had been here a few times, my roommate had gotten used to the fact that I was best friends with him, and sometimes he preferred to stay here when he wanted to be anonymous. Paparazzi sometimes crowded outside his hotel when word leaked he was there.

We eat ourselves into a food coma and Harry decides to stay the night, not wanting to face the cold again. Since our living room couch sprained his neck the only time he’d slept there, he usually crashed in my bed. His head barely hits the pillow before he’s snoring, I guess the jet lag finally caught up.

***

I jerk out of sleep, a crashing noise followed by swearing catches my attention.

“I think your roommate dropped something,” I hear from beside me. I turn my face to get a facefull of Harry’s thigh tattoos.

“Y’think?” I croak and shift backwards to see his face. He’s sitting up in bed and scrolling through his phone.

“Guess which psychic is officially internet-famous?” Harry asks dryly.

“Hm?” I’m still calming my heart from waking up so suddenly so it takes a moment to register Harry’s words. “What?”

He shoves his phone in my face, the selfie he took with the psychic yesterday is posted on social media with over half a million likes. He swipes away and a lot of his tag is filled with news outlets and fan accounts spamming the picture. He pulls it back to read a heading: “Harry Styles visits Psychic for ideas on his next album. There’s also Harry Styles rumored to be connected to the Occult...I don’t know what that means. Psychic tells all on Harry Styles reading.”

“How did that picture circulate?” I rub my eyes and sit up beside him. “And where is all of this coming from?”

“She has a Twitter, and she posted the picture.” He shows me, it’s there with the caption A handsome face showed up to my booth at the Bryant Park Market tonight. Get your future told, 5pm to 9pm 7 days a week.

I can’t help but laugh, she was a business woman and she really took the opportunity to sell her service.

“It’s not funny Y/N,” Harry looks furious so I cover my mouth and squint at his screen as he scrolls. A ton of people are responding asking about his future or what he came there for. Amongst them, she responds to only one person: His love life was involved.

My jaw drops, “That’s such a lie! She read me my love life, and life lines!”

“I told you she was a fraud,” Harry jerks the phone back to him.

“She lied for sales, but doesn’t mean she didn’t tell the truth yesterday.”

“If she lied about this she lied about it all and you wasted $10. She only talked about your love life, not mine...”

I remember her words, my second love was very close...could she have meant...

I glance at Harry and he seemed to have followed the same train of thought because we lock eyes, his probably just as wide as mine.

“D’you think?” he says just as I say “Was she...?”

We immediately burst out laughing as the tension comes to a head and bubbles over in a safe trickle.

“Is that what she was trying to say?” I say when I’ve finally caught my breath, my stomach hurt from laughing this hard.

“I guess when she said close she meant close,” Harry’s flat on his back from laughing. “Quite literal.”

“And you were calling her out on being so vague.”

“I’ve got to give it to her,” he shuts his phone off and throws it onto the covers between us, releasing the annoyance. “She’s a good businesswoman.”

“I was thinking the same thing but I thought you might kill me if I said that,” I admit.

We lay on the rumpled covers in silence, I think about everything else she said. The potential of it all is tarnished by the idea of Harry being my second love, for life. It was so ridiculous, unless by love she meant the way I love him now. As my best friend. Our lives were so different, there was no way it could ever work. Not to mention...he was my best friend since forever.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Harry asks out of the blue.

“Thought about what?” I prop myself on my elbow.

“Us, like...the way she predicted?”

“Together together?” I can’t help but laugh. “No never, you’re my best friend!” I recognize the flash of hurt so I backtrack a little. “No offense Harry, I love you but could you imagine?”

“I have,” he says it so quietly as I lay back down. “What?” I ask. He shrugs, “I’m surprised you haven’t. We’ve been friends since...we were 7. You’re saying you never thought about it?”

“No,” I shake my head. “Actually I haven’t. When...what did you think about?”

“I dunno,” he fiddles with his rings. “Like for school dances, when I didn’t have a date I thought about asking you as more than a friend...thought about where that could lead. Or every time you had your heart broke. I wanted to take the pain away and just show you what you deserved.”

“Harry I...” it was sweet, what he was saying. But he never gave a single clue about it the entire time we grew up. He was always chasing girls who looked nothing like me, so I always thought that’s what his type was. Never did I think about anything more with him.

“Not-not recently though,” he forces a laugh. “Just when we were kids.”

“That’s sweet Harry. I had no idea.”

He shrugs, and sits up.

“No seriously I...that’s so sweet. But just so you know, you have shown me what a good man can be. Just by being the best friend ever.”

“Aw,” he swipes my cheek as he gets up. “That’s cute. I don’t know if I’ve done such a good job when you’ve only dated knobs.”

I could recognize his defense mechanism--turning it into a big joke. But he leaves the room before I can call him out and I’m left sitting in the mess of what he’d just told me. It’s not that it was awkward or a bad thing, but suddenly it felt tense and the tension triggered an anxious feeling in my chest.

I decide to get out of my room and find my roommate cleaning up the remains of her broken mug. I offer to clean the spill as she dresses to go out for her run. Helping her distracts me, and when I hear Harry leave the bathroom I lock myself in, and try some breathing exercises to clear the anxiety creeping up. When I realize I was trying to avoid Harry, I scold myself. This was ridiculous and funny! Harry wanted to ask me out when we were kids, it was cute, and that was it. The psychic was a fake anyway, nothing she said meant anything.

I head back to my room where Harry’s made the bed. I change into trousers and my favourite fisherman sweater, and find him having coffee at our small kitchen table with his phone on speaker as he talks to someone. His legs barely fit underneath, so they’re sprawled to the side. He’s still shirtless, and my attention snags on his torso.

I shake myself out of my thoughts as I bump into the kitchen island, and glance up to see that although he was talking to the person on the phone, his eyes had been on me...while my eyes were on his abs. Oh god, I cringe. I try to act casual, mouthing if he wanted breakfast but he shakes his head and points to the call he’s having.

I make myself a toast and try to ignore what just happened but it only adds to the tension from this morning. When he gets off his call he brings his cup up to the sink.

“I think I need another cup.”

“Be my guest,” I move aside. “You sure you don’t want breakfast?”

“Are you going to feed me avocado flax seed quinoa toast?” he teases.

“There’s no quinoa.” I correct, crossing my arms. “But...yes.”

“I’ll take this banana,” he holds the lone banana on the counter. “I’ve got to be in East Harlem by noon, that’s what the call was about.”

“Aw,” I hated saying goodbye. “Are you busy the rest of your stay?”

“I can make it back here,” he says.

“Do whatever you need to do,” I say. “I’m used to being discarded after you hang out with me in the city.”

“I don’t do that!” he reaches behind me to slot his cup in and set the machine to grind his beans. I can smell my shampoo on him, he must’ve showered. “If you want me back, you can just say that.”

The morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window leaves no room for shadows; the shift in the mood is clear as the daylight streaming in. Or maybe I was reading too much into his words.

“I always want you back,” I look up to his height now that he’s standing so close, and the kitchen tightens further.

We’re stuck in a tableau; with my back against the fridge looking up at him as he gazes down with a curious expression. My mind grows blank the longer I stare. No one says a word, the sound of beans grinding the only noise in the kitchen.

My best friend in the whole world looks torn standing in front of me like this, and as my senses slowly rush back I realize that even if my expression doesn’t show it...I was torn. Because out of nowhere, all I can think about are all the questions I ever shoved away in the dark: what would it feel like if I kissed him right now? And what would have happened to us if he had asked me out to our school dance? Would we still be best friends? Would we have cut each other out? How many universes were we still good together like this? How many universes were we good together as more than this?

An urge to touch his face, make sure this was real, takes over me. But as soon as my fingers brush his cheek he snaps out of his trance and stumbles back like I’d burned him.

He forces a laugh. “I really do need that coffee.”

“Right,” I turn to the machine to put the grinds into their slot but I yank too hard and the freshly ground coffee flies out towards me. “Shit!”

“What happ-” Harry takes one look at what’s happened and turns away, his shoulders shaking.

“I can see you right in front of me laughing!” I shout. “Help me!”

“It’s all over you Y/N,” he turns around, tears in his eyes. “Give me this, I’ll put it far away from you.” He takes the remaining grinds and sets it down. I brush away what’s closest to my eyes so I can see and try to shake it off my sweater but they stick to the fibers of the knit.

“Great,” I grumble. “This is dry clean only.”

“It’s in your hair,” he runs his fingers through the strands that hang over my shoulder. I shake my head to dislodge the grinds; his fingers brush my neck away and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Uhm, that should be most of it.”

“It’s not out of this sweater,” I pout. “Screw dry clean, why did I think I could buy dry cleaning clothes?”

“I can drop it off on the way out today?” he offers.

“That means you’re coming back to drop it off to me?!” I ask hopefully.

His expression softens, “Y/N I’m coming back to your flat. I promise.”

“He promises!” I shout. Even though things were a bit awkward this morning, I got to spend more time with my hard-to-catch best friend and for that I was over the moon.

“We could also try to vacuum the sweater?” Harry suggests.

“So you don’t have to come back with dry clean?” I tease. “I’m not letting you get out of your promise, let me give it to you before you change your mind.” I tug my top off and ball it up, shoving it in his hands. It falls to the floor when he doesn’t hold it.

“Hello?” I look up and he’s a deer in the headlights. “Harry...”

“I can’t do this right now,” he takes a step back. I get the sweater from the ground and hold it out to him again.

“Do you want to wipe the kitchen floor with the sweater too? Take it!” I sigh. “Harry are you really acting so chaste about seeing a girl in her bra?”

“It’s-” he decides to stop mid-word. “You’re not just any girl Y/N, I’ve already made it clear.”

Now it’s my turn to stare--he hadn’t made it clear. “You said you only felt something when you were younger...”

“And you believed me?”

I realize I didn’t, but I wanted to believe him so I hadn’t questioned it. “Well it’s not the first time you’ve seen me in a bra. Can you take the damn sweater?”

“Yeah I can I’m just...” he seems to calm down a bit, enough to step towards me and take it. “I didn’t have to face this conflicted feeling in me if I didn’t see you often. I can just be the best friend. But now, with the whole psychic thing and you in--like this in your kitchen and I--I’m remembering how much I just want to...”

“Kiss me,” I say.

“Yeah...” he looks away.

“No, I’m telling you to kiss me.” I clarify. His expression would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t beating so fast. I couldn’t believe I was being this impulsive.

“Really? You’re not just saying that cuz of this morning?”

“Fine,” I step out of his reach and cross my arms to hide my shaking hands. “If you don’t want to kiss me-”

He pulls me back too quickly and I bump into his chest. “I never said that.” He says in a tone I’d never heard from him before, it’s serious and sexy and it sends tingles through my body. I press myself up against him and he finally, finally, kisses me. Every bit of tension and anxiety the day had built up releases in the single moment his lips cover mine.

How had I waited this long?

The kiss is gentle, delicate like he’s still not entirely sure I want the same thing he does. I show him I do by using my tongue to open his mouth slowly and the hesitation disappears immediately. We’re a fighter jet taking off from there; I don’t know where I end and where he begins as he walks me to the kitchen island and lifts me onto it, our limbs tangling together, His hands roam down the side of my body, but he stays in the safe zones until I unclasp my bra.

“Oh hell no,” my roommate’s voice interrupts us from behind. I hold my bra close and turn. She stands at the entryway, shaking her head. “Not here. Not on our kitchen island. You two have a room literally 10 feet away...”

“Oops,” I say quietly which seems to set Harry off. My roommate is still shaking her head but I see the smile on her face. I’d caught her hooking up on multiple occasions so it wasn’t anything new. But I didn’t do this often. I jump down, apologizing to her. “Harry’s going to clean the coffee off the floor...I-I’ll find a shirt.”

“Mhm,” she closes her bedroom door and I look over at Harry who’s crouching on the floor in tears.

“This is all your fault!” I whisper but he tugs me down to where he is and holds my face as he kisses me.

“I know you two aren’t behind the island,” my roommate’s voice comes out again. I stay there as her footsteps move to the bathroom and the door closes behind her.

“I hate you,” I skirt out of his reach, and rush to my room yelling another sorry as I head back and find a top. Harry appears in my room as I put it on.

“I guess that was a good time for her to walk in on before it got too far?” he still has a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” my cheeks were burning and even more so that Harry was elated.

“I’ve actually got to head out now.”

I pout but he kisses my pout instead. He promises he’ll be back in the evening and I let him go with one more kiss, my mind catching up with everything that just happened.

Oh my god.

***

It’s nearly 8 by the time I’m done running all my errands--taking holidays off for work was usually a good decision for me. I had a big family and picking up all the holiday bits before I flew back home was always a big job. I take an Uber home, I couldn’t handle a 40 minutes trip back home carrying everything home on the subway.

I call out to my roommate when I get in but she doesn’t respond. I check her door and it’s open and dark, the bathroom is also empty. She must have evening plans.

I open my door to a surprise. Harry is sprawled on my bed. He jerks awake when I settle my bags down.

“Y/N?” he squints as I turn the light on.

“How did you get in here?” I shrug my coat off.

“Y’roommate let me in before she left,” he rubs his eyes. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep...I had a whole thing planned.”

I’d gone over the whole morning during my errands, surprised and excited and nervous about this new step for us. But I continued to think about what the psychic said, our love lines extended alongside my life line. Even though there wasn’t much comfort or trust in a psychic who used a photo opp as a marketing opp, what she said had come true. And I put my faith in that, calming my nerves about this new step potentially ruining our friendship forever.

“Was that okay?” Harry sits up. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh no that’s fine,” I unwrap my scarf and stand at the foot of my bed. “I really wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”

“Of course I would,” he reaches for my hand. “I wouldn’t leave you after this morning, I’m not that flighty.”

“Well we never really got to talk about it,” I say as I sit down. I’d texted him during the day but it never showed he read it, I wasn’t sure how to read into that; finding him passed out on my room meant he was probably on the go all day.

“Are you okay with this?” he says with such concern, I nearly tear up. This was making me way too emotional.

“I am,” I smile at my best friend in the whole world. “I just don’t want to go too fast.”

“We won’t,” he promises as he holds his arms out. I lean in towards his solid chest and he wraps his arms around me. I feel his breath on my cheek, then his lips in my hair. “I’m yours for eternity Y/N, we can take it as slow or fast as you want.”

It was a good thing to say, and I believe him entirely.

We eventually untangle ourselves to get food in us, and even though things are different, they’re also not. We still pick out the same parts of our food to give the other person, we still talk the same shit and laugh at the same jokes. But his hands grasps mine and his thumb brushes over my knuckles absentmindedly. His eyes stay steady on me as I talk like I’m someone new he’s exploring. We kiss after dinner, but we also load the dishwasher and laugh about the one time I’d managed to burn soup from a can. Eventually we end in my bedroom, where we lay together, our conversation growing quieter by the minute, the space between us growing smaller.

And even though we’d slept like this a hundred times before, it’s different now. I can feel it in every atom of my being, I was his and he was mine. And I don’t know how long it’s been like this for it to feel so easy, but accepting it was a no brainer, like accepting the sky was blue or the sun was hot. I remember the advice the psychic gave, I was following it: living the life I had around me even though it wasn’t the life I thought I would have.

There were a million things Harry and I had to figure out to make this work--I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But I did know that it was right, it was true, and it was going to be forever.

The future may not be crystal clear, but my future with this man was.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #fic #writingsfromhome #friends to lovers #standalone #holiday fic #ignore any grammar or errors pls ty

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

You Appear On Knowing Bros Together ~ Kim Namjoon

An arm snaked around you as you walked onto the set for the first time, your eyes darted around the place as you took it all in. It was a set you’d seen plenty of times on television before, but now you were really there.

“Excited?” Namjoon guessed, watching as you bounced up and down on your toes. “So am I. I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to go on our first reality show together, it’ll be fun.”

You were stopped just behind the sliding door to walk into the classroom by a producer, spinning around to look at Namjoon. Your eyes studied his outfit closely, reaching out as you spotted the knot of his tie was a little bit wonky, quickly straightening it out for him.

His smile grew appreciatively as you made sure that he wore his uniform perfectly. Namjoon was desperate for the filming to go perfectly today, he knew that the fans were waiting in anticipation to finally be able to see the two of you on television for the first time.

On the way to the studio, Namjoon had told you all about what to expect from the show and all about how much he enjoyed it when he appeared with the boys. You hadn’t even arrived, and you were already beyond excited that morning.

“We’re ready when you are,” a member of staff smiled from beside you both.

Namjoon nodded, tapping your shoulder. “I’ll let you do the honours.”

You listened to their conversations in the classroom, waiting for a moment when someone just began speaking to throw the door back and make them all jump.

The classroom erupted into cheers as they watched the two of you walk in, waving gently as you headed to stand behind the desk. You instantly began to feel comfortable as you looked around and smiled at all of the guys looking back at you.

“I’m Y/N and I come from the school of, I came here from the school of I’m here because my boyfriend can’t handle you alone,” you teased, feeling Namjoon nudge your side.

“And I’m Namjoon, and I come from the school of I’m back with better company than before.”

Soogeun was quick to ask the two of you questions, knowing exactly what the fans wanted to know about you. You could only smirk as he fired away asking all the juicy questions in search of any bit of gossip, he could get a hold of.

“They’re not going to share anything with us,” Heechul chuckled as Soogeun asked about your futures, “they’re not stupid enough to reveal important news on a small show like ours.”

Your head quickly shook at Heechul’s comment, “it’s just that we don’t really have any news to share, we just had gaps in our schedules, so we thought we’d come and see you guys.”

“I’ll get some good gossip out of you by the end of today,” Soogeun teased.

Your head shook, reaching underneath the desk to pick up the hammer and slam it down as a warning to him. He chuckled loudly as Hodong turned around and warned him to be on his best behaviour before he got beat by you.

Once your profiles had been read out, Namjoon headed over to sit in Youngcheol’s seat whilst he moved to the back, and you picked up the first set of cue cards. As soon as you read over it, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting go of a laugh.

“Namjoon is definitely known as the king of destruction for a reason, but what did he do on our second anniversary that topped anything he’s done before?” You asked the room.

His eyes widened straight away as he recalled exactly what he’d done on that night. Janghoon was the first to notice Namjoon’s expression drop, knowing straight away that it must have been something pretty big.

“Did he spill his drink?” Kyunghoon began, raising his arm in the air. “Or did he end up spilling it all over you instead?”

“He’s done it before,” you laughed, hitting him gently, “but that wasn’t on this specific occasion.”

“Did you trip over and end up falling on the floor?” Sangmin asked, following up.

You shook your head in response, “again, he’s done it before, but not that time.”

It brought you a great deal of satisfaction to expose all of Namjoon’s terrible stories from your times together. Many more guesses came from the classroom, but none of them quite got the answer you were wanting. After a while, you gave up listening, and decided to help them all out a bit.

“I’ll tell you what it involves,” you spoke, walking back behind the desk. “The main thing that you need to focus on is the tablecloth, that’s the centrepiece of this story.”

“I’ve got it!” Janghoon yelled, standing up from his table. “Did he try to do that trick where you pull out the cloth from the table and nothing moves?”

“You’re on the right lines, but this definitely wasn’t intentional,” you clarified.

As soon as you finished speaking, Heechul stood up. “Did he trip or stand up and end up taking the tablecloth out with him, so everything on the table fell to the floor?”

“That’s it!” You chuckled, hitting the hammer on the desk. “He somehow got it caught on his belt, and when he stood up to go to the table the whole table just fell to the floor.”

“That sounds too fake to be real,” Hodong chuckled, smiling at Namjoon in front of him. “How can one man get so much bad luck?”

You quickly moved onto the next question to spare Namjoon anymore embarrassment, noticing how red his cheeks already were.

“Alright, number two,” you smiled, “I have a collab on my next album coming up, but who was it that Namjoon banned from helping me out on a song?”

“Me?” Kyunghoon grinned, “I was wondering why you never called me.”

You raced over to him and whacked the top of his head yet as he let go of a squeal.

“You’ll have to think quite close to home for this one, if you think about it, the answer might actually be quite an obvious one.”

Sangmin called out quickly, raising his arm into the air. “Did you want to collab with a member of TXT, but Namjoon told you that you couldn’t?”

You hummed loudly, “you’re on the right lines, but even closer to home than that.”

“A member of BTS?” Heechul quizzed, staring across at Namjoon in disbelief. “Did he stop you from collaborating with one of his friends.”

Your head nodded, still pushing for a little more. “Was it Yoongi?” Soogeun asked, listening off all the other members after that to make sure that he got the right one.

“Yoongi was right,” you smiled, heading back to the front of the classroom. “He told me that if I wanted to collaborate with BTS, I had to do it with the best rapper in the group. I told him that was why I wanted to work with Yoongi, but apparently the best rapper is actually him.”

Once Namjoon had been through his questions, and you’d filmed a segment with Shindong, the shoot came to an end, and the two of you returned back to your dressing room.

“I can’t believe you exposed me as much as you did today,” Namjoon joked, poking your hip.

You turned back to face him, “the fans will be excited to learn so much more about you. The show would have been boring without sharing some dodgy things about you.”

His eyes rolled back at you, “there’s nothing left for the fans to know about me. You’ve let them know all about my embarrassing secrets now.”

“You’re welcome,” you sniggered, smiling across at him.

“You’re the worst.”

---

Masterlist

189 notes · View notes

angelz-dust · 3 years

Text

masters of none - part 4 (jason todd x reader)

summary: after many months, we are back in action and back in reader’s head. pls enjoy these jason crumbs. if you need a refresher on the plot, the other chapters will be linked below!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: food/eating. alcohol. cursing.

part 1 /// part 2 //// part 3

gravity

ever since i ever felt ya, right there life couldn't seem better. tulip flowers in my sweater. ask me now, is this forever?

…

you rested your chin on the table before you, your arms hanging limply between your knees as you listened to your manager, dana. you were really just watching her mouth open and close while she pointed at a powerpoint. god, what you would've given for an extra hour of sleep. the all nighters in the studio were starting to take a toll.

the feeling of the back of daisy’s soft hands brought you back to earth. the smell of cocoa butter dancing beneath your nostrils as her smooth engagement ring rolled across your cheek. you breathed in her smell, exhaling in content through your nose.

“you good?” she mouthed and you closed your eyes, giving her a little nod. the bassist rubbed her calloused fingers against your forehead, pushing strands of your hair past your hairline. you pouted when she eventually pulled away, leaving you only with the sensation of touch that once was.

you heard tyler shift in his seat and then felt some air graze against your hand. you looked under the table, noticing he was holding something out to you. you two made eye contact briefly before you scooted back in, grabbing what felt like an envelope. looking down at your lap, you saw a sticky note attached to it. jason’s money was what it said. you carefully put the envelope in your jacket pocket, sitting back in your seat now and looking at dana’s powerpoint. she was going over reports from your publicist, jerry, which you didn't particularly care about.

“now, i have to ask,” dana’s words pierced your bubble of inattention. “have you all thought about what i said about this next album?”

jordy raised his hand like a school kid. “yes?”

“y/n and i decided that we'd be okay with making our album a group project. it has been, admittedly, kinda hard and boring without everyone else. we’d honestly be doing ourselves a disservice by not doing it together,” jordy explained, dana clapping her hands together.

“wonderful,” she nodded, keeping her hands clasped. “i know you two were excited to do your own thing, but i was talking to jerry and he was really pressing me to get a group album from you guys. the people wanna see you guys as a unit of established artists, which you all are. so what's the concept? we never discussed it.”

“uh,” you verbally paused, raising your arms above your head to stretch. “disco, jazz, and funk. it's a mix of those.”

“retro is in right now,” dana nodded, pacing around the room. “how far back will this set us on a release date?”

you grimaced, leaning back in your seat, the back of the seat lightly bouncing as it absorbed your weight. you pondered the question for a moment. “if it’s gonna be a group thing, it'll have to be significantly longer. we have a decent starting off point but i'm gonna need way more songs now.”

“what about the rest of you? any tracks that we could swing?” dana asked, looking at the rest of the group.

grabbing a pen and piece of scrap paper, you started jotting down notes as everyone spoke out to you. dex and quinton didn’t have anything, but they wouldn’t be a problem. you just needed to give them a beat to rap over and you’d be set. the twins had a finished song already that fit the concept, which was good. with tyler’s voice and aly’s excellent song writing abilities, you doubted very seriously that anything else needed to be done to it. daisy and hector had plenty of lyricless songs, too. funk and soul was their specialty, after all. misha even had a demo track she was willing to share.

you looked over the notes you had taken, tapping your pen on the table as you hummed to yourself. “this could probably work. we’ll need to go over everything in the studio, though.”

“we should just do it now. no one is doing shit else today, right?” dex asked the group, who all shook their head.

“i have a request,” you raised your finger, looking at dana. “i want gotham to be involved in this project.”

“gotham…” dana repeated slowly, unsure of what you meant. “care to elaborate?”

“music videos directed by student directors from gotham university, commissioning local artists for album art. dancers, actors, musicians, whatever. all of them have to be from gotham. i don't want any of the money we put into this project leaving this city,” you stated firmly, dana giving you a blank look.

“i like that idea,” hector said, giving you a kind smile before turning to dana, shifting in his seat. the drummer was like a big brother, always backing you up in moments like these. “accessibility to the arts is really limited here and we should change that.”

“i’d rather give back to the city, too,” quinton agreed, playing with the gold cross hanging from his neck. “we’re one of the only groups in gotham known outside of gotham. we should use that as an opportunity to rep our city.”

“it sounds like you have your minds made up on this,” dana narrowed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “it would definitely be good PR.”

“because god forbid we do something out of the kindness of our hearts,” misha laughed, rolling her eyes. “we're trying to put the city on and you're worried about how it makes us look.”

“that's my job, misha. don't you want me to do my job?” dana retorted. “besides, i'm more concerned with the funding. you all don't have disposable income, believe it or not.”

“but i know someone who does,” she said with a singsong tone, giving you a look.

“i hope you're not referring to me,” you deadpanned. your income was far from disposable.

“i’m referring to our good friend, bruce wayne,” she explained, grabbing a business card out of her purse, handing it over to dana. “ever since i got invited to that charity gala, i've had a direct line to a representative with the wayne foundation. i say we ask them to help fund the project.”

“now that could work,” dana admitted, eyeing the card as she tapped her foot. “if we pitch for more youth involvement, it'll probably go over better. we all know how much bruce wayne loves saving the children.”

you frowned at how dana described bruce’s initiatives as a philanthropist. you were sure his motivations for favoring youth projects were good intentioned, considering his parents had been killed when he was just a little boy. you wanted to go into this good intentioned, too and you hoped that they'd agree. they being the wayne foundation and subsequently, bruce himself.

“ty and quinton could do something with forrester. if we’re going for the youth involvement route, i mean,” aly spoke up.

“forrester correctional. our old stomping grounds,” quinton sighed wistfully as he patted tyler on the shoulder. “i think that would be a good idea.”

“they use the arts as an outlet for them, so it could be beneficial for everyone,” tyler nodded. “there are a lot of good kids there. just unfortunate circumstances, that’s all.”

“wasn’t one of bruce’s son’s a troublemaker before he was adopted?” aly continued, not noticing the look you and tyler shared. “i’m sure he’d probably be interested in doing something with them if his son comes from the same background.”

“it’s settled, then. you all keep working on the music. jerry and i will handle the rest. we need this album out before hector and daisy’s wedding,” dana said, grabbing her suitcase.

…

hey, i have your money. did you still want it?

you stared down at the unsent message, your thumb floating over the send arrow. you hadn’t spoken to jason since that night after the race, as per his request. your mind kept wandering back to it, even as time still went on. what happened was scary, to say the least. fun, but scary. you wondered how the hell jason didn’t get the two of you killed. that part, you didn't want to think about too hard. everyone in gotham had their secrets and it was an unspoken rule amongst citizens to not pry. secrets were secrets for a reason. nothing good ever came from unearthing them.

speaking of secrets, you hadn't exactly told tyler and quinton what happened that night. not in detail. you conveniently left out the chase and stopping to get something to eat. omitting the first part was obvious, but the second one was for your own sanity. you didn't need them teasing you over nothing. besides, all that mattered was no one was dead or arrested. and for the way the three of you used to get down, that was a win.

you considered texting jason earlier this week, just to check in on him, but you decided against it. he obviously wanted you to text him and you obviously had to do the opposite. his little mind game wasn’t going to work on you. you pressed send, frowning immediately as you did so.

maybe it already had.

“it’s too many people in this bitch,” dex sighed, the cold of the water bottle you had asked him for against your hand bringing you back to reality. blinking, you were suddenly very aware of the chaos surrounding you in the studio as you put your phone back in your pocket. you looked to your left, where jordy was leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone. to your right was aly, who was scribbling in her songbook in the chair next to you. you remembered you were supposed to be working, too. “we need a new stu.”

“i’m working on it!” hector hollered from inside the booth as he and daisy were setting up equipment and instruments. you glanced up at the glass in front when you heard his voice, accidentally catching the pair share a little kiss. you quickly averted your gaze, smiling to yourself.

“new stu, new view, what it do?” quinton began to freestyle to a beat he was making on the coffee table in front of him. “off 92, posted up with southside crew.”

“okay,” dex laughed, noddinh his head as he was vibing with the beat, making his way out of your line of sight. you heard someone, presumably tyler, join in and add some depth to the beat. it sounded like he was hitting a pencil against a shot glass.

“i got a new boo, but i’m tryna slide with misha, too,” quinton continued, dex adlibbing in the back as quinton lowered his voice to his signature melodic whisper. “on the low, nobody gotta know.”

“would you shut the fuck up?” you heard misha say, followed by a barrage of muffled smacking noises and verbal objections from quinton, who you assumed was on the receiving end of what sounded like an assault by pillow.

laughing to yourself, you leaned your head in aly’s direction, not fully facing her. “pass me the flash drive?” you held your hand out weakly. once you felt the plastic in your palm, you leaned back over and put it into the computer, pulling up the proper files.

“we’re done back here,” daisy smiled at you, she and hector coming out from the booth.

you clapped your hands together. “wonderful. everybody shut up, please.”

you pulled up the twin’s song and let it play, your eyes fixed on the colorful audio loops on the screen. the green ones were tyler’s vocals, the purple were aly’s. it looked like blue was reserved for instruments and red was any added sound effects or layered sounds.

“you two sound really great,” jordy walked up behind aly’s seat, leaning against it as he swayed his head to the beat.

“thanks. i wrote it with our mother in mind,” aly said, the words coming out of her mouth uncomfortably. you placed your hand on hers and gave it a little squeeze, which earned you a look of appreciation.

“it's missing something, though,” tyler scratched the back of his head. “i need the producer squad to give us some assistance.”

“oh, say less,” dex laughed, snapping his fingers to the beat with one hand and holding his glass of hennessy in the other. he danced his way over, taking aly’s seat as she, tyler and jordy moved to give you all some space.

misha sauntered her way over, sitting against the table and flipping her hair over her shoulder. the smell of her sweet perfume floated in the air around you. “i think it just needs some fluffing up. some snapping might work. more vocal layering in certain spots.”

“i agree,” you nodded, dex letting out a satisfied sigh as he took a sip of his cold drink.

“is it good?” misha asked him teasingly and he took his final swig, letting out a more dramatic and drawn out sigh. this time, though, it was on beat with the song. you were pretty sure it was unintentional on his part, since he and misha just shared a laugh before returning their attention to the screen.

after a moment of pondering, you swiveled around in your chair, looking at tyler. “okay, hear me out…”

…

two weeks of very diligent working between the nine of you had given you a lot to work with for the album. all that was left was to start putting things together. you still had a ways to go, but you had a good starting off point. as much as you hated to admit it, it was a good call on dana’s part to have you all do a group album. the fans seemed to be greatly anticipating the release and the work ethic the nine of you shared was incredible. even in that cramped little studio, you all made it work.

you all agreed to take the day off, but you were still working at some capacity. you had just traded one small space for another, working in your walk-in closet/home studio for the day. you still needed said walk-in to function as a closet, so there were still garment bags pushed up into a corner and shoe boxes haphazardly stacked, surrounding your desk that you had shoved in there. there was just enough space for you to move your chair and safely get out without twisting an ankle, a fate you often flirted with in that room.

in the spirit of your day off, you hadn't done anything too difficult. you were just trying to decide what order you wanted the completed songs to go in. it may seem like an insignificant detail, but the order was important. the transitions between songs couldn't be jarring for the listener. everything had to flow together with natural progression. at this point, it didn't matter since you weren't done with the album, but it was just giving you an idea of how to fill the gaps with future songs.

the sound of your growling stomach indicated that it was time to stop for the day. you quickly saved all your work and headed to the kitchen. you popped some leftovers in the microwave and scrolled on twitter while you waited. the microwave beeped at you, so you set your phone back down and grabbed the bowl, mixing up the contents with your fork. the flash of light coming from your phone got your attention. a text notification.

are you home?

oh, so now he wanted to respond? cute.

despite your annoyance with the situation, you quickly responded with a yes and set the phone back down. you leaned against the counter, eating what little food you had in your reheated bowl. you mixed the contents around with your fork, grumbling. stupid jason and his stupid inability to text back. he could have at least had the decency to leave you on read. he probably didn't even have read receipts on. you weren't sure which was worse. tossing your now empty bowl into the sink, you grabbed your phone to read his next message.

i’ll be over soon.

soon was very vague and you wished that you would've demanded an exact time, but that opportunity had passed by the time you thought about it. you busied yourself with tidying up, trying to make your place look presentable. you even lit your new candle, which you found yourself focusing your attention on while you waited for him to show up. staring at the flame was much more entrancing than you anticipated.

you heard the door buzzer go off. you weren't expecting anyone else, so it had to be him. you leaned against the wall, pressing your finger to the button.

“who goes there?” you presented the question as a joke, but your tone was a little flat.

“it’s the irs,” jason’s voice came through and you buzzed him in.

not too long after, you heard him knock on the door. you cracked it open and the first thing you noticed was his cologne. it was a strong but pleasant scent. spicy and sweet. it was very intoxicating, actually. so much so that you almost forgot you were angry at him.

“hi.”

“hello.”

you opened the door fully and handed the envelope to him. jason eyed it suspiciously. he opened it up and began to count it out in front of you. he made an effort to do it very slow, the sound of the crisp dollars echoing in the quiet hall. his eyes stayed glued to yours as he counted out loud. you leaned against the doorframe as you watched.

“six… seven… eight,” he said, pulling out his wallet and stuffing it with the cash. “thought you would've skimmed some off the top.”

“i should have with how long you made me wait,” you said matter of factly, letting your annoyance be known now.

“i know. i’m sorry,” he sounded honest but you couldn't see it in his face or in his eyes, which was worrisome. it was a nice alternative to listening to a sputter of excuses, though. “let me make it up to you?”

“how do you plan on doing that?”

“i’m so glad you asked,” he smiled. “as it turns out, i've recently come into some money. let me spend it on you?”

“so you like throwing money at your problems?” you asked him. well, you weren't really asking. it was more like you were telling him.

“no,” he said, sounding a little offended. “i just thought-”

“you just thought that throwing money at me would make me forget about the fact that you ignored me for a month.”

“no, no,” he shook his head, sighing in frustration. “listen, i-”

“i really don't wanna hear it,” you said honestly, watching as his frustrated look turned into kicked puppy. you almost felt bad. “i don't like feeling stupid, jason. that's how i feel right now. i want you to make it up to me but you'll have to be a bit more creative than this.”

“you want me to make it up to you?” jason had repeated, confusion on his face.

you poked him harshly in the chest. “you do that or you leave me alone. those are your options. goodbye.”

you shut the door in his face and let out the breath you were holding in. you weren’t sure how jason was going to react to your little ultimatum, but those were your terms. you liked him but you weren’t going to stress over someone you barely knew, especially with your assumptions about him floating around in your head.

“i’ll be right back,” you heard him say through the door, catching you off guard.

“what?”

“don’t go anywhere.”

you didn’t respond but you heard his footsteps getting quieter as he walked down the hall. the elevator ding indicated that he had left. you stood there, confused as to what it was he was trying to do. you were still stewing in your negative emotions, so you went and busied yourself again. you decided the dishes needed washing and got on it right away. in the middle of scrubbing the stubborn sauce stains out of your plate, you heard your door buzzer go off again.

so he did come back after all. interesting.

you buzzed him in like you did before and waited by the door for him. he knocked and when you opened it, you were met with two gifts: a bouquet of pink tulips and a small box of something from the bakery around the corner.

“i shouldn’t have ignored you. it was rude and stupid and i’m sorry. it won’t happen again,” he said to you, holding out the items to you. you hesitantly accepted them, taking the opportunity to look through the plastic opening of the box to see chocolate covered strawberries.

“it better not happen again,” you pouted, looking up at him. you had to appreciate the effort he put in at such short notice. it was a sweet gesture and he actually looked sorry this time.

“it won’t,” he assured you and you smiled.

“i forgive you. but you’re on thin fucking ice,” you reminded him and he grinned at you with a nod.

“i’m going to make it up to you. just you wait,” he said confidently. “not all of us are naturally creative like you, though. you gotta give me some time to think of something else.”

“seems like you’re getting your feet wet with the flower selection,” you noted, taking a whiff of the delicate and fresh scent. they’d look nice on your coffee table.

“lady at the shop said they would convey my sincerest apologies,” he explained, a hopeful look in his eyes. “did it work?”

“for now,” you shrugged, setting the items down on the table next to the door.

“i can accept that.”

“you’re gonna have to because that’s all i’m giving you,” you said firmly. his charm wasn’t going to get him out of this one. not completely. “now go away. i want to eat my berries in peace.”

“i’ll text you as soon as i get the chance,” he told you as you were shutting the door. you peered at him, narrowing your eyes before shutting it again. “i’m serious!”

“goodbye, jason!” you said through the door. you heard his faint farewell as you walked away, plopping on the couch with your dessert in hand.

were you still a little mad at him? yes. but you weren’t going to pass up free stuff, even if you had made all that fuss about the money earlier. at least the gifts had some thought behind them. so long as he held up his end of the deal, you had a feeling being friends with jason wouldn’t be that bad.

hopefully, anyway.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc x reader #jason todd #red hood

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 4 years

Text

A Gift

Luke x ghost!reader

Summary: It's your birthday and you wish you could spend it with your family. Luke and the band try to cheer you up (super fluffy).

Requested?: Nope

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

A/n: This kinda came out of nowhere and once I had the idea I got carried away. I hope y'all like it!!

For you birthdays were a big thing when you were alive. You and your family would always go on a camping trip and have the time of your lives together. It wasn’t just limited to your family either, it was open to your friends too. It was your favorite tradition.

When you had met Luke, you had been looking forward to inviting him and the band, but then the fateful night at the Orpheum had happened. You and the rest of the band had died that night, now it was twenty-twenty and you were ghosts.

It had been great meeting Julie and forming a band with her, but as your birthday rolled around you were feeling immensely sad. Like Luke you had visited their family and you had seen them preparing to go on the camping trip in your honor. While it made you happy to see them keeping up the tradition, it also felt like a stab to the heart that you couldn’t be there with them.

In the days leading up to your birthday you had grown quiet and more reserved, struggling to find the energy to be happy. You couldn’t visit your family anymore, it just made you cry, but knowing that they were camping and you couldn’t be there also made you cry. It was a lose-lose.

So you had spent most of your time at the beach, watching the ocean and letting it calm you. There was something so relaxing about the way the waves moved and the push and pull of the tide. It was also nice to have privacy, just the crashing waves to keep you company.

It was inevitable that the band would notice your mood and absence of course, and notice they did.

You were at the beach, watching the ocean like normal. It was admittedly a beautiful day for your birthday. The sun was just breaking through the marine layer, creating bright orange patterns on the clouds.

Luke poofed in beside you, startling you out of your sad thoughts. The two of you had been dating since you got the band together and he was always there to comfort you.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. You sniffed in return.

“You didn’t think I would forget what today is, did you?” He asked, giving a small smile.

“No,” you answered, smiling a little bit.

“Good,” he stood up in front of you and grabbed your hands. “You are amazing and you are so great and understanding when it comes to me missing my parents, now it’s my turn to help you with your grief.”

You didn’t have time to respond before you felt the cold sand disappear from beneath you. The world shifted to new surroundings, ones that you definitely did not recognize.

“Luke?” You asked, letting go of his hand. You weren’t exactly in the mood for any surprises at the moment.

Luke moved back to standing in front of you. “Trust me on this, okay?”

He took your hand again and led you down a path. You looked around, trying to find anything that would clue you into where you were.

You slowly began to recognize your surroundings and you stopped walking. “What’s wrong?” Luke asked, stopping with you once he realized you weren’t moving.

“Luke, I-I’ve already visited, seeing them just makes me even sadder.”

“That isn’t why we’re here, Y/n/n. I’ve got a completely unrelated surprise for you.”

You hesitantly began to walk and Luke gave you an encouraging smile. “You are going to have a great day today. I promise.”

You gave him a weak and slightly nervous smile as you followed him. You walked over a hill and what you saw made you smile for real.

Julie and her family were setting up a campsite while the rest of the band and Flynn helped. After the whole Caleb fiasco Julie had let her family in on the ghostly little secret.

“Happy Birthday!” Luke exclaimed, gesturing excitedly at everyone.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” Everyone called, though Flynn, Carlos, Victoria, and Ray were a little late since they didn’t see your arrival.

You smiled at your found family. “Guys, this is so sweet.”

“Oh, this isn’t everything,” Reggie said excitedly. “Wait till you see what else we have planned.”

For the first time in a while, you forgot your grief and excitement replaced it. “I can’t wait.”

~~~~

After a few incredibly fun activities, you made it back to your campsite. The sun was still up and you had a while before everyone would eat dinner.

Still hyped up you had a lot of energy and you didn’t know if you could just sit around and chat or play cards. Thankfully Carlos suggested a game of Ultimate frisbee and once the words were out of his mouth, Reggie was chanting it to. You were definitely up for a game and from there, teams were formed.

It was you, Julie, and Alex versus Luke, Reggie, Flynn, and Carlos. You may or may not have specifically engineered it to have Alex on your team, him being the tallest gave an advantage.

You took on Luke. He smirked at you as Alex threw the frisbee to Julie and Flynn intercepted. You rolled your eyes and saw Flynn get ready to throw the frisbee at Carlos. Julie was trying to guard her and Alex was on Reggie, so in a split second you ran over to Carlos. You knew you were faster than Luke so you’d be able to get to Carlos and catch the frisbee first and fortunately you were right.

You intercepted and Luke tried to guard you, giving you a pouty face when Alex caught your throw. You smirked at him, running past Alex to the area near your goal. You had barely stopped running when Alex tossed the frisbee back to you. Luke was almost to you and Julie was open. You threw it to her and smiled as she caught it, scoring a point.

“We’ll get it next time,” Luke called running off towards his team's end of the field.

“Sure!” You called back, a bright smile on your face. However, Luke was right, his team scored the next two times and your team scored the last time before dinner, leaving you at a tie.

You all made your way back to the campsite and you ghosts sat down while the ‘lifers’ got their food.

“It was interesting seeing the frisbee get caught in midair.” Ray chuckled as he took his seat, almost sitting in Reggie before Julie warned him.

“Yes, I’m glad you were having fun,” Victoria said, patting Julie. You smiled at the gesture, trying not to feel sad about your own aunts.

Dinner was full of fun chatting and Julie translating for you and the guys. After dinner the guys got their instruments out and began to sing ‘happy birthday’ to you. You sang along so everyone could see you and it turned into an impromptu concert.

As the sun disappeared and the stars came out, you and your found family sang, enjoying the moment. You would definitely treasure these memories for years to come.

After you finished singing Luke came over to you. “Just close your eyes for a second,” he said, grinning at you like an excited puppy. You did what he asked, though rather reluctantly.

“Guys, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“We wanted to,” Alex said.

You heard a lot of shuffling right in front of you and eventually Luke spoke. “Okay, open your eyes.”

In front of you was a small pile of gifts. “Guys-“

Luke cut you off before you could protest any further, “Stop, you deserve all of this and more. And don’t say you feel bad for not doing more for our birthdays, I know how long it takes you to knit those scarves.”

“Fine,” you smiled. “Which one first?”

“Ooo! Open mine!” Reggie begged, pointing at a cleanly wrapped box.” You unwrapped it, careful to make sure none of the trash went anywhere, and gasped at what you were holding. It was an incredibly detailed and beautiful sketch of a horse.

“Reggie, did you draw this?”

He nodded. “And it’s got the first country song we wrote together on it.”

You beamed at him. “We’ll get that country album some day,” you vowed, gently nudging Luke when he rolled his eyes.

“Mine next,” Alex requested, pointing to an even more elaborately wrapped box. You opened it to see Alex had decorated your old guitar strap, painting it with your favorite colors. You had been meaning to do that since you got it and you were grateful he had taken the initiative.

“I love it.”

“Good, I’m not that artistic so I didn’t know what to get you and then I remembered that you had been meaning to decorate your guitar strap since you got it, so I did it,” Alex rambled.

You laughed. “How very thoughtful of you.”

You turned your attention back to the rest of the stack, but Luke was already ready. “Here’s mine.”

“You took the small package from him and opened it. Inside was a little box and in that there was a necklace. The pendant was an old guitar pick branded with the sunset curve logo and with it was a little card in Luke’s messy handwriting: A memento of the band we started all those years ago.

“I think I’m gonna cry.” You put your hand to your mouth and Luke took the necklace from the box, putting it on you.

“I love you so much,” Luke whispered to you.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, kissing his cheek.

After admiring the necklace for a little while longer, you went to open the rest of the pile. Julie got you a gift card so you could shop together(you still only had your clothes from the nineties). Ray gave you a framed photograph of you guys at the garage party singing Edge of Great and Carlos got you a ball of yarn. Even Victoria even got you a little candle that you absolutely adored and Flynn got you a bracelet that matched one that she and Julie were wearing.

“Guys, these are all so great, I can’t thank you enough! You better bet I’ll be stepping it up for your guys’ birthdays.”

“Looking forward to it,” Carlos said, after Julie repeated what you said. He turned to his left and smiled at you and you laughed, you were sitting more to his right.

“Tell him that I can’t wait,” you requested and Julie obliged.

While she did that you got up and hugged everyone you could. “Guys, this could not have been a better day.”

“It’s not over yet. We have one last gift for you!” Reggie said excitedly and you smiled brightly, tears of joy forming in your eyes.

“You guys didn’t have to,” you protested, blushing at the kindness they had been showing you. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“Yes we did.” Julie sat down next to you and Luke sat on the other side, with an arm around you while Reggie and Alex leaned in behind you. You tilted your head as Julie turned on her phone and went to her camera roll.

You were about to ask what was going on when she played a video. Julie and the guys appeared on screen and you saw that they were standing outside the garage.

“Happy Birthday, Y/n!” They all yelled and you smiled, expecting them to do a little birthday recording of a song for you, but instead of getting their instruments Luke spoke.

“We noticed how sad you were about your parents and we had this idea...” with that the screen shifted.

You were only more confused when you recognized the inside of your parents house. It was easy to tell that the camera was filming from just inside your old kitchen. You watched curiously as Julie and your parents stepped into the frame.

“If you could say one thing to her, what would you say?” Julie asked and you realized she was talking about you.

Your mom sniffed, tears in her eyes. “I’d let her know how much I love her and how proud we are of her. I just wish we could tell her that. She was so talented, I just wish she could have lived her dream.”

Tears welled in your eyes at what your mom said, but they started falling when your dad spoke. “I’d wish her a happy birthday and tell her that I wish she could come camping with us. We kept up our tradition and I just wish she could know how much she meant-means to us. We missed out on so much with her and though we can’t get it back I hope she knows that we love her with all of our hearts.”

The video faded into a slideshow of some pictures of you, and in the background Now or Never was playing.

A good majority of the old pictures were taken during your camping trips and it was interesting to see how you had grown. When you were twelve, guitars began to appear in the pictures and there were quite a few ones of you playing around a campfire. Everyone was laughing in those, and it made you smile to remember when they were taken.

After the pictures of your family, they faded to pictures of you with the guys. There was even one of your first gig, you recalled that your mom had taken it. Your parents had been so excited for you. You had always felt so lucky to have such supportive parents.

From there, there were the newest pictures, ones of you with Julie and even some from your current camping trip that she must have added at the last minute.

After the last picture faded away you immediately grabbed all of your friends into a group hug. You couldn’t believe they had done this for you. You felt so unbelievably honored and touched.

You sniffed. “Guys, how did you do this?”

“Well, Alex, Reggie, and I got most of the pictures, we used some cameras to sneak them,” Luke explained.

“Yeah, it was not easy. I can’t count the number of times your parents almost saw the floating cameras,” Reggie said and you laughed.

You turned to Julie. “It means the world to me that you got my parents to say that. How?”

“I told them that I was trying to get to know the old band that had once practiced in my garage and from there they told me everything.” You hugged the girl tightly.

“I can’t begin to explain how much this means to me.” You opened your mouth to explain more, but nothing came out. “Just...this is...wow, guys. I-I just, thank you? I don’t know, thank you doesn’t sound like enough.”

“You don’t have to explain, Y/n, we’re just glad you liked it,” Alex said.

“After this, I’m gonna make sure you guys have great birthdays too.” Some more tears fell. “I just, wow.”

“So you liked it?” Luke asked and you beamed at him.

“I loved it.”

****

Tada, I hope y'all enjoyed this! Once I started writing it bloomed into this and I'm happy with what it came out to be. It's also been a while since I played frisbee, so sorry if the rules are wrong. Anyways, I loved writing this and I hope y'all have a fantastically safe and wonderful day/night!

Also if you want me to do more gender neutral fics just let me know, I only do she/her because that's what I’m most comfortable with, but please let me know if you want they/them on more stuff. I want to make this blog inclusive.

P.S. I am open to requests, but I won't get to them until after Halloween :) Please check my blog for the pinned post before requesting.

P.P.S. if you want to be on my taglist for all things Julie and the Phantoms, feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

#Julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms Luke #julie and the phantoms luke imagine #jatp x reader #jatp luke #jatp imagine #jatp luke imagine #jatp luke x reader #luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #jatp one shot #a gift #luke one shot #one shot

282 notes · View notes

pink-flame · 3 years

Note

For the Trope ask, 14 and 27 with Juke, then 19 and 72 with a ship of your choice

I’ll get to the second half of this soon. But for now part 2 of Bodyguard AU Juke!

Read part one here.

Bodyguard AU + Sick/Injured fic

Julie Molina was not sick.

Ok, maybe she had been dragging for days and her brain had gone slightly fuzzy and she was pretty sure she had a temperature.

But she wasn’t sick. She couldn’t be. Not when her first ever national tour started in less than a month and her second album had just been released. She had radio appearances and tv interviews and stage rehearsals and a million other things she had to do that week.

So she couldn’t be sick.

Unfortunately her body didn’t seem to get that memo.

“Hey, are you ok?”

Julie turned her head sluggishly toward Luke who was frowning over at her from the back of the car they were being driven towards her next interview in.

She shook her head then realized that was the opposite of what she meant to do. She stopped mid-shake and switched over to a nod.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” She told him, the slight croak to her voice doing little to help her credibility.

Luke’s frown deepened and his eyes narrowed as he examined her from across the car.

Alex turned to look back from the front seat.

“You are looking kind of like a ghost, Jules,” He observed. “You’re paler than me.”

“I said I’m fine,” Julie insisted even as she shivered involuntarily. “Can we just go over the schedule for today again?”

“Oh look at that,” Alex said, typing furiously on his phone. “It just cleared up.”

“Alex…” Julie whined.

“You should listen to him, Julie,” Luke broke in. “You’re not helping anyone by passing out on live tv.”

Julie crossed her arms and let out an indignant huff. She could feel her lips pursing like an annoyed toddler. She couldn’t help it. Being sick always reverted her back to her younger days and left her feeling pouty and clingy.

Not that she was sick.

Only her head was killing her and her nose was kind of stuffy and she was so tired.

“Maybe…” Her voice cracked and she studiously ignored the look Alex and Luke exchanged at the sound. “Maybe I could take one day off.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen reason,” Alex said. “Not that you had a choice but still.”

Julie sighed, deciding she didn’t have the energy to engage with her best friend at that moment. She sank back into the leather of the seat, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. She would just rest her eyes and by the time they got back to her place maybe she would feel up to doing some work remotely. She could tweak the lyrics for that Spotify exclusive she had promised for next week and maybe even call into a couple of radio shows she had been booked on. She would convince Alex that was a good idea. She just needed to rest for a few minutes first.

At least that had been the plan.

Instead she found herself being shaken awake to the sight of Luke’s face hovering over hers.

“Jules? We’re here.”

Had he ever used that nickname for her before? She didn’t think so. She decided to blame her apparent illness for the sudden fluttering in her chest at the sound of the word tumbling casually from her bodyguard’s lips.

“Alex,” She mumbled, still half out of it. “Maybe I can do a couple of my interviews on the phone…”

“Go to bed,” He interrupted. “Seriously. I’ve got this.”

Julie wanted to protest but her brain was moving a little too slow and Luke was already pulling her out of the car, those absurdly defined muscles being put to work, and she lost her train of thought.

“I can walk,” She grumbled as he led her into her building and over to the elevator, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

“I know,” He said in an annoyingly agreeable voice. “So can I and right now we’re walking together.”

Julie rolled her eyes but let herself be hustled into the elevator. Luke scanned his key card to authorize it to take them to the top floor.

“Who gave you a key to my building?” Julie asked as she leaned against the wall and let her tired eyes slide shut.

“That would be you,” Luke answered, his amusement clear even though she didn’t open her eyes to check his expression.

“What an idiot,” She mumbled.

Her head was now not only throbbing but had suddenly started to feel too heavy to keep upright.

She felt Luke lean against the wall next to her and gave into the urge to lean over and rest her head on his shoulder. Or she would have if he hadn’t been quite a bit taller than her. As it was her head landed awkwardly somewhere towards the middle of his arm.

She sighed and decided it was too much trouble to try again.

He didn’t comment on her behavior, only leaned a little closer to her so she had less of a stretch.

It felt like only a second later that she heard the familiar ding that let her know they had reached her floor.

“Come on,” Luke said, raising her gently off of his arm so he could wrap it around her waist again and steer her towards her front door. He swiped his key again and pushed the door open, half dragging her inside and straight to her bedroom. She briefly had the wherewithal to wonder if she had left anything embarrassing out in plain sight but quickly gave up as she sank onto the edge of her bed.

“Thanks,” She mumbled. “I’m good now.”

He ignored her statement which was clearly intended to dismiss him. He crouched down in front of her and reached up to place the back of his hand against her forehead. Julie shivered, unsure if it was her fever or his proximity that caused her reaction.

She decided the fuzzy feeling in her head was excuse enough to let herself examine his face up close. She hadn’t been this close to him since they were pressed up against each other while hiding in her closet. It wasn’t a good memory exactly, she remembered how scared she had been in the moment, how violated she had felt later when she let it sink in that someone had invaded her home. But she also remembered his hand clutched in hers, soft palms and calloused fingertips confirming her suspicion that he was a musician in his spare time. She remembered his eyes, impossibly big as they searched hers for signs of panic. She remembered his messy hair and how badly she had wanted to run her fingers through it even during a terrifying situation.

And she remembered how he had refused to leave her that night, insisting that he sleep on her couch, just in case. She had gotten up that night, telling herself she needed a glass of water but knowing deep down she just wanted a glimpse of his sleeping face.

It was a good face.

His lips quirked up slightly.

“Thanks,” He said as he dropped his hand from her forehead.

“For what?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion.

“You just said I had a good face.”

Julie would have reacted more to that if she had the energy. As it was all she could do was groan slightly at the knowledge that she managed to say something she didn’t mean to in front of him again.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t know what you’re saying,” He assured her. “You’re burning up, Boss.”

“I think I’d better lie down,” She mumbled.

He nodded and stood.

“Do you have some...where can I get you something to sleep in?” He asked.

“You don’t have to,” She tried to dismiss but he just stared at her expectantly. “Middle drawer.”

He crossed the room quickly and opened the door in question, grabbing an old baggy shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, bringing them back to her quickly.

“Thanks,” She said again.

“I’ll just…” He jerked his thumb towards the doorway indicating he would leave the room so she could change.

She nodded and started pulling her top off without hesitation. His eyes widened and he spun to leave the room quickly. Ok, she knew there were perfectly good reasons why she should have made sure he was turned around before she did that but she couldn’t latch on to them at that moment. She just wanted to be horizontal as soon as humanly possible. She had just managed to change and slide under her comforter when she heard the door to her condo click shut.

She tried to ignore the sinking in her chest at the sound.

Of course there was no reason for him to stay. He was her bodyguard not her babysitter and certainly not her boyfriend. Sure, she could admit to herself that she had been nursing a little crush on him for months and there had been times she was sure he was flirting with her. But then she reminded herself that was just how he was, chemistry with literally everyone. It didn’t mean anything to him.

So it couldn’t mean anything to her.

Julie sighed and sank deeper into her pillow. She wasn’t sure if she actually slept or if she just drifted in and out of feverish confusion but the next thing she was fully aware of was Luke once again crouching in front of her.

She wasn’t sure if he was real or not and somehow in her fever addled mind that seemed like a good reason to reach out and touch his face.

His eyes softened affectionately when her fingers brushed his cheek and she wasn’t sure if that was evidence that he was real or a fantasy.

“Hey, Boss,” He said softly.

“Hey,” She whispered. “You came back.”

He smiled and held up a plastic bag.

“Of course. I got Tylenol and tissues and some soup I can make you later.”

She felt a surge of treacherous joy at his words even as she struggled to hold on to enough logic and propriety to let him off the hook.

“You don’t have to stay,” She told him, pulling her hand back to her side. “This isn’t part of your job description.”

He chuckled and she wanted to demand he tell her what was so funny but she was distracted by the way he reached out to run his hand over the top of her head.

“Go to sleep, Jules.”

Her brain seemed to take his words as a command, her eyes fluttering shut. Unfortunately only a few seconds passed before a shrill ringing was causing them to shoot open again.

“Don’t answer it,” Luke tried even as she was reaching for her phone which sat on her nightstand.

“Hello?” She muttered, holding it up to her ear weakly.

“Julie? Are you ok?”

She frowned as the familiar voice of her big brother washed over her.

“Reggie? How did you even know I was sick?” She asked.

“Alex called me,” He said as though it should be obvious. “Look, I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What? No. That’s like a 6 hour drive,” She croaked out. “There’s no reason for you to come all the way from San Francisco.”

“The flu isn’t something to mess around with, Julie,” He insisted. “You shouldn’t be alone and Alex is working.”

Julie’s head was spinning and even the weight of her phone seemed to be too much for her in her current weakened state.

“I’m not alone,” She mumbled.

“What? Who’s there?” Reggie demanded.

“Just talk to Luke,” She instructed.

She just had time to hear Reggie ask semi-frantically who exactly Luke was before she was shoving the phone into her bodyguard’s hands. He looked slightly panicked but to his credit he took the phone and raised it to his ear.

Julie had intended to eavesdrop on their conversation but in the end she sank into a fitful slumber before she could hear a thing.

The next time she woke up she didn’t feel any better. If anything she felt even worse. Luke was there though. He brought her more pain medicine and walked her to the bathroom to make sure she didn’t fall. He made her soup and hot tea. And when she started to droop again he tucked her back into bed.

“Goodnight, Boss.”

He was still there when she woke up the next day.

She had a text message from Alex saying he had rescheduled her commitments for that day too and she still felt too miserable to fight him on it. Apparently Luke had gone back to his place at some point while she slept because he was wearing fresh clothes when she emerged from her room.

She felt slightly better by lunch, managing to sit up and join Luke on the couch to watch some tv. She discovered he loved the trashy reality shows that drove her crazy and she adored the cooking shows he called criminally boring. They both loved 90’s sitcoms though. At one point he grabbed her acoustic guitar and started playing her a song she had never heard before.

Dreaming like we’ll live forever

But living like it’s now or never

Julie managed a tired smirk.

“Is this your way of telling me I’m dying?” She asked teasingly.

“Not on my watch,” He said firmly before shooting her one of those troublesome grins she would always associate with him. “And that is part of my job description.”

Right. Because he was her employee. Only...surely employees didn’t just hang around for two days to keep their boss company while she was sick...did they?

The next day Julie was starting to feel more human. She insisted that Luke go home. It had taken some convincing but finally he had agreed, insisting that she call him if she needed anything.

Julie spent two more days recovering alone in her apartment, most of her symptoms having abated but a deep sense of exhaustion taking a little longer to leave her. She called Reggie back and ignored his pointed questions about why a bodyguard was so dedicated to her well-being when it wasn’t life threatening and was she sure there wasn’t something she wanted to tell him?

Brothers.

Alex wasn’t much better, texting her every five minutes not with work updates but asking if she had spoken to Luke. Of course she hadn’t. He was her bodyguard not her boyfriend and if some small part of her was disappointed that he hadn’t called to check on her she wasn’t about to say that out loud.

She was feeling back to herself and prepared to return to her hectic life the next day when she got one more message from Alex that had her nearly dropping her phone.

Just a heads up, I found out why lover boy hasn’t called. He caught your flu.

Julie felt a lot of things as she read Alex’s text.

She felt guilty.

She felt worried.

She felt an overwhelming urge to make sure he was ok.

She knew she could accomplish that by shooting off a quick text. If she really wanted to go the extra mile as a boss she could call. That would be normal. That would be appropriate.

But hadn’t they passed that a long time ago?

So that’s how she found herself outside of his apartment, knocking nervously on his door.

At first no one answered but just as she was debating knocking again the door swung open to reveal a pale Luke, his slightly sweaty face scrunching up adorably in confusion.

“Julie? What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice a familiar croak.

“You caught my flu,” She said simply as though that should explain everything.

He managed a smile even if it was slightly pained.

“So you what...came to apologize?”

“No, I…” She held up the bag she gripped in her hand. “I brought Tylenol and tissues and some soup I could make later. If you want.”

His eyebrows raised sluggishly in surprise.

“You’re going to take care of me?” He asked, that soft look back in his eyes.

“I can’t have you dying on me,” She shrugged with a small smile. “Who else would protect me from the over zealous tweens on tour?”

He chuckled before cutting himself off with a cough.

“That’s sweetly pragmatic of you,” He said. “How did you even know where I live?”

“Um, I had Alex pull your personal file,” She admitted.

“Wow, pretty sure that’s an HR violation,” He joked.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. So...can I come in?” She asked only slightly nervously.

In the end she shouldn’t have worried.

He only grinned tiredly and stepped aside to let her pass.

“Come on in, Boss.”

And so she stepped over the threshold thinking about how if this was a song she was writing that would be a metaphor for the start of something.

But that was a song to write another day.

Tag request: @only-trust-fictional-characters

#answered ask #trope prompt game #juke #jatp #fanfiction #my fics

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the-melting-world · 3 years

Text

The Empress | Side B: “The Fear”

Art by @markmefistov

~ In which a humble gardener opens Strength’s Door…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel

Track Origins: “The Fear” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 2k words

After Kipling, Ozy, Nadia, and Asra return from the underwater library, Ozy leaves Kipling with the gauntlets, reminding her that he still has to show her how to permanently unlock her third eye.

“Trust me, Kip,” Ozy said with a reassuring smile, “once your third eye is open, you’ll have a much better time navigating the portals.”

With that Ozy let Nadia escort him back inside the Palace. Earlier in the library, he and Kip had agreed to save their lesson in grey magic for the next day. Kipling appreciated Ozy’s patience with her. She could tell he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible before they started unpacking everything from the past.

She was grateful to him for that.

***

(Nadia’s POV)

Nadia walked with Ozy back to his chambers. When they arrived, she waited by the door while he removed his gauntlets and set them aside on the dresser. Nadia wasn’t sure why she hadn’t yet left the grey mage to his business. Her agenda was packed with meetings with foreign dignitaries and not to mention she had a desk full of letters that needed responding to.

And yet, there were other things clouding Nadia’s mind. Like intricate spiraling details across a pearly, artificial surface that stretched so far in every direction.

“That machine in your library,” Nadia said, starting quietly at first. “The one underwater. Is that where it’s meant to be kept?”

After Ozy took off his gauntlets, he rolled his wrists a few times and walked back towards the Countess.

“The Nautilus? Yes, that’s its primary function – traveling through water. Makes it easier for deep sea exploration.”

This piqued Nadia’s interest even further. “A vessel that never needs to surface?”

Ozy was standing before the Countess now, his expression friendly and eager to keep engaging with her on the topic.

“It does! But not often.”

Nadia hummed. “I see. Like a whale. Or a turtle.”

A soft glimmer flashed behind Ozy’s eyes, as if he were thinking of the same comparisons.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Nadia, who was content to invite Ozy to walk with her, said, “That’s fascinating, Oz. What an incredible find.”

Ozy fell into an easy stride beside the Countess, his hands tucked comfortably in the pockets of his crisp pants. “Hm. Thank you, but I didn’t stumble upon that vessel. You did.”

“What do you mean you…” Nadia slowed to a stop. Ozy mirrored her and turned so that he was facing her, his lip quirking in what she read as a hopeful challenge. That’s when Nadia quickly assembled the pieces of his implications.

“Oz… do you mean to suggest that you built such a thing?”

Ozy looked off to the side rather sheepishly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Abaco helped.”

Once again, the grey mage had left the Countess at a loss for words.

As if to put her at ease, Ozy added, “I built a lot of things over the years, Countess. Fixed a lot of things.” His hazel eyes drifted skyward. “Broke a lot of things too now that I think about it.” His hand wandered up to absently scratch at his five o’clock shadow. “Mostly because I ran out of stuff to fix. Not really any other option in that case but to break some things. Otherwise I wouldn’t have…” Ozy’s speech turned into uninterrupted mutterings.

Nadia realized he would have never stopped if she hadn’t said, “Oz, please.”

That was enough to call back his attention.

“As long as you’re here,” Nadia reached for both of Ozy’s hands, “I want you to call me Nadia.”

Ozy looked down at where she held lightly onto his long fingers, and then back up again.

“Oh. Like Asra and Kipling do?”

Nadia gave a deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Ozy blinked, the confusion written plainly across his face. “But they’ve known you longer.”

The Countess shook her head. “I know it might seem strange, but that does not matter to me.”

The grey mage was silent for only a moment before he grunted in gentle understanding. He pressed his rather nimble fingers more firmly against Nadia’s.

“You’re ambidextrous,” Ozy noted. “Like me.”

Nadia couldn’t help her face from heating slightly at his observation.

“You’re correct about that.... How did you know?”

Ozy continued to test and trace his fingers around the Countess’.

“These hands have solved a lot of puzzles. To the point where it’s impossible for them to ignore the details in fact. So… Nadia,” he locked eyes with her, his gilded lip curling into a soft smile, “what’s the story with your hands?”

Nadia grinned, trying to gauge the line where Ozy’s friendliness blurred into flirtation.

“I’m not sure if there’s a way I can express this without sound like I’m bragging, but my hands do know their way around a workshop.”

Once again, Ozy’s eyes lit up. “A workshop, really? Will you show me?”

Nadia gently guided her hands out of Ozy’s and up around his bicep, linking her arm through his.

“I can take you there, but I won’t be able to join you again until late this afternoon. I have a city to help govern as you might have gathered.”

“Right.” Ozy said with a respectful nod. “You don’t have to worry about me, Nadia. I can always find ways to keep myself busy until you return.”

“Oh, Oz.”

Nadia thought back to that vessel, immense and pristine, resting at the bottom of a deep pool.

“I have no doubt about that.”

***

Kipling noticed that Abaco didn’t follow Ozy and Nadia when they left the garden. The bird was content to stay behind and play with Taro and Faust. There was something Kipling found soothing in watching the three familiars interact. So she sat there right in the grass next to a hedge of snowball viburnums.

Asra, who knew Kip’s behaviors very well by now, was happy to take a seat and curl up right beside her.

“Asra, there’s something I have to tell you.”

The magician breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that it wouldn’t show. He wrapped his arm around Kip’s shoulder and placed his other hand in her lap. “I’m listening.”

In the past, Kip had looked elsewhere, anywhere but directly at Asra, only occasionally flicking her gaze up to meet his. That wasn’t the case this time. Her syrupy brown eyes were fixed on him as she spoke. She seemed determined to give him her full attention.

“When you came by Muriel’s cottage, did he tell you about the reading he gave me?”

Asra swallowed. “Yes. But only a little. He said you drew the Empress.”

“Reversed,” Kip clarified. “I’ll be honest. I’ve been neglecting to tell you the whole truth about Ozy and Khleo… well, Khleo specifically.”

“You don’t talk about them much,” Asra noted. He also didn’t miss how Kip’s eyes would glaze over whenever Ozy mentioned the umbra’s name.

Kip sighed. “I’m ready to talk about them now. Asra, I knew Khleo for a long time before meeting Ozy. They kept my secrets, they were the one I confided in whenever I needed it. When Ozy came around and I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, it was Khleo who taught me about kindness and acceptance. I don’t think I can explain how close we were…”

“You loved them. You still love them.”

Kipling could tell by Asra’s tone that he must have known all this time.

Kip took a moment to work out the tremors in her upper body. Asra squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“We never confessed it aloud, but the day that Khleo was taken by the Door, I was so sure that they were going to say it first.” Kip caught a sob. “There just wasn’t enough time.”

Asra pulled Kip until her face rested against his collarbone. He removed his red scarf and wrapped it around her shoulders. By now the three familiars had gathered onto both of their laps. Taro was determined to soothe Kipling with her head nuzzles and soft chirps.

While Asra rubbed her spine, Kip managed to choke out, “When I portaled to Strength’s gate, I saw Khleo and those feelings were still there, Asra. I don’t know what to do. I know I’m supposed to go see the Empress, but I want… all I can think about is…”

“There was something else Muriel told me,” Asra said. “On the morning you left, the ground all around his cottage was covered in daisies. They could have only come from you. He said there were so many of them, magically conjured to stay in bloom for much longer than normal.”

“Daisies,” Kip sniffed. “They were in Strength’s realm too.”

“Well, they’re all around us right now.”

Kip opened her eyes and sat up. Asra was right. The magical daisies had appeared in the garden. There were thousands of them, packed so tightly it was almost impossible to see the grass.

It wasn’t unnatural for Kip’s green magic to behave in this way. Most of how she managed it was based on her emotions. But she had never seen anything like this.

“Kip,” Asra said, “what if you used the daisies to find your way back to Strength’s realm?”

She tore her eyes away from the flowers and looked at the magician with a mixture of uncertainty and surprise. “You think I should go to Strength’s realm? Without Ozy?”

Asra nodded, his lavender eyes serious. “I’ll go with you.”

“But what if–”

“It was you who said that you can’t bring yourself to meet the Empress right now. What if drawing that card means that you have to face your feelings about Khleo before moving forward?”

Kip’s drew a heavy breath. There were so many what ifs. What if Khleo didn’t remember her? What if Strength tried to bite her head off again? What if…

“Kip.” Asra placed his hands on either side of her face and steered her into a kiss. “I’ll be there with you. We fought the Devil, remember. We can pay Strength a visit. We’ll come to the front door this time instead of dropping out of nowhere. If she doesn’t want to let us in, then she won’t.”

When Asra put it like that, the stakes didn’t seem so high.

Brrrrr.

Kip looked down to see Taro holding up her new pair of gauntlets. Faust bobbed her head in encouragement and Abaco fluffed his feathers once before using his beak to flick a switch on the gauntlet so that it hummed to life.

Once Kipling had donned them and stood up, she took a deep breath and did her best to rely on what she knew. To her amazement, the gauntlets made it so much easier to detect the control pad that opened the Doors.

Kipling activated the invisible motherboard and gasped when she saw more daisies growing spontaneously in the air. They shot off a few feet to Kip and Asra’s left, circled once and then again in a double ring – the outline of a Door.

“That must be the way to Strength’s gate,” Asra whispered.

Kip’s gauntlets gave a sharp whine as she felt them tug her towards the highlighted portal. Asra followed behind Kip as she drifted in that direction. Abaco flew ahead, tweeting madly and whizzing to the path of the daisies.

Kipling reached out until she connected with the lever handle to the Door. She found it easily, as if a magnetic force linked her gauntlet to the portal.

Then Kip pushed until the lever rotated. The Door squeaked as it opened. That magnetic tug was back, but this time it wanted to get away from Kip. She tentatively released the lever and watched as the door snapped open. Wider, wider, wider –

“You have to lock it, Kip!”

Kip gasped at the memory of a younger Ozy hollering at her while a storm grew over their heads. This sparked a second memory of a Door that grew too great for any of them to handle. She couldn’t let that happen again.

Kip glanced over at Asra and remembered. She would never let another Door take off with someone she cared about.

Her gauntlet glowed brighter. Kip listened to the hum…

The gardener caught the lever before it could get away from her and spin completely out of control. She sensed a new type of pull and followed it, anchoring the lever into a small depression that wasn’t visible to the naked eye.

Glittery light sparked all along Kipling’s knuckles. Abaco was absolutely delirious with excitement. The daisies dissolved, but there was water on the other side of the Door, churning smoothly, without turbulence.

Through the tunnel of seawater and shimmering light, Kip felt the call of clear summer skies and rolling hills blanketed in wildflowers.

#arcana albums: the empress #arcana albums #the arcana #kipling the apprentice #ozy the grey mage #asra #asra alnazar #nadia #nadia satrinava #my writing #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fic #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana

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youremeimyou · 4 years

Text

Old Lovers

pairing: Min Yoongi x reader genre: angst with sprinkles of fluff, ex-boyfriend au word count: almost 5k warning: some passionate kissing

Description: Min Yoongi is your ex-boyfriend that you’ve parted ways not on the greatest of terms with. But in the makings of a mixtape, somethings will be rekindled. Will it be friendship or maybe more?

A/N: I’ve started writing this so long ago but only recently got to finish it. I haven’t been able to post any fics in a while even though I’ve got a lot of wip. I’m graduating uni and my life’s basically a chaos right now. But I liked writing this a lot. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think of it :) [posting again cuz it’s not showing on tags ughh]

Going back to school has never been this painful to you before. Of course assingments, exams and longer than necessary lectures were always there to welcome you back to hell every year but no new semester intimidated you quite like this one does. Especially after the very much disconnected summer break you had.

Spending the summer in your hometown of Gwangju was a rushed decision that was actually forced upon you at the time. But it turned out to be exactly what you needed. At least, Hoseok made sure that it was. Being your life-long friend, he took matters into his own hands when you couldn't pull yourself together after the rough patch you've been through. The Hoseok-ie rule he called it: No getting in touch with anyone in Seoul. And while it was a little hard not reaching out to close friends in Seoul, you couldn't risk breaking the Hoseok-ie rule. He's sweet and you love him but that guy is one scary motherfucker when he's pissed.

Now, summertime's over and you're definetely not prepared to face your demons. It doesn't help that Hoseok's classes aren't starting until next week, either. That means you have to go through this alone.

On your way from the subway station to the campus, you check the new weekly schedule once more and it makes you let out a dissappointed huff. You can't blame anyone. You made this schedule. But do you have any idea why you decided to put music theory at 9 in the morning while you were making it? No.

Your legs take action before you know it and suddenly you're now turning to the other street. They continue to take you through another familiar path. As you close in on the shop at the corner, the calming smell of coffee reaches your nose and you realise why coming here was more tempting than attending class.

This coffee shop was your safe haven for the past three years and this semester isn't going to be any different. Even though it's so close to campus, not many people know about it and it's never hectic. Which is something you love and right now, definetely need. Some peace and quiet before starting the semester...

You enter and head straight to the barista, who happens to be a friend of yours since you're a regular.

"Hey Ryu."

"Well well, if it isn't Miss I'll come everyday this summer that never showed up once." Ryu has sarcasm alongside with mischief in his voice.

"I know but Hoseok kept me in Gwangju as a prisoner the whole summer, I'm sorry."

"Where's that dancing machine?"

"He doesn't have classes until next week so it's just me for now." You're still not over the fact he left you on your own for the first week.

"It's fine, you're not alone. Look!" Ryu points to the back where the tables are. You're confused as to who he could be pointing at. You and Hoseok are the only ones you know that come here- except...

In a flash, you stop turning around and hurriedly order a black coffee. "Please make it quick." you plead quietly but what's done is done, he already knows you're here. In fact you can hear footsteps approaching.

"That drink was great, dude. What's it called again?" He appears on your right side in his all-black outfit with a snapback. Nothing's changed about him, you think. Except you see some of his hair through the hat and it seems to be bleached. Something he hasn't done for a while. For the two years you two were together, to be exact.

"Oh, it's called yuanyang. You think I should put it on the menu?"

"Definetely, go for it."

It seems like he doesn't even acknowlegde the fact that you're right next to him. But why the hell did he even come here? You totally introduced him to this place and Ryu. So, you should get to keep this place after the break-up. Aren't those the rules?

He takes out his wallet to pay but pauses for a second. "Ryu, can I get two cookies to go?" he asks and hands over his card.

Two cookies? You know he doesn't like sugaries that much. You're almost sure he's meeting someone and it makes you scoff, unconsciously. Both him and Ryu side-eye you but you avert your gaze. "Chocolate ones, please." he adds. You think he must be ordering your favorites just to spite you.

He recieves the cookies from Ryu, fistbumps the guy and starts walking out. But then, just as he passes by you, he leaves one of the cookies on the counter in front of you and exits without another word.

First, you're shocked. And so is Ryu, apparently. You glance at him and he confusedly shrugs. Then, you're pissed. In a moment of anger, you blast out of there to go after him.

"Hey, Min Yoongi!" you shout.

He stops but doesn't turn around for a while. Just when he's about to, you appear right in front of him, the cookie in your hand.

"What's this?"

"What does it look like to you?" he retorts back, his eyes avoiding yours. And you frustratedly huff.

"What are you trying to pull?" you ask with hints of accusation in your voice. That's when he meets your gaze.

"Nothing at all. My fault for trying to be nice."

There it is, the Min Yoongi venom you were waiting for. He opens his mouth to say something else but you beat him to it.

"Ryu doesn't seem to know that we-" you pause. And immediately regret pausing. Why couldn't you just say it?

"Oh, right. You must be thinking that life stopped while you were away." And only as he says this that you notice the dark circles under his eyes. "He knows. So do a lot of other people, by the way."

Well, shit. You might've been away from all the post-breakup commotion but he was here. He was dealing with everyone of your social circle, alone. And what's the first thing you do when you see him for the first time after all that? Lashing out at him. And when he was just trying to be nice, too. Great...

"Can you move? I'm missing class." he says coldly. But despite trying to hide it, his voice sounds tired. Which makes you step out of his way and let him go. Instead, you start making your own way to class, being already late as it is.

Safe to say it's an awkward walk to campus, with you on one side of the street and Yoongi on the other. The bad news is, you constantly find yourself looking his way. Even though you curse under your breath everytime you catch yourself staring at him, you can't help but look again. But his eyes are completely fixed on the road, not even sparing you one glance.

To escape the awkwardness, you decide taking the longer route to class by heading for the stairs at the back while he takes the ones near the entrance. Since you're late and afraid of Professor Sol, you fasten your pace. Once you reach the door, your hand clashes into someone else's. Yoongi's. Of course, you think to yourself. You should've known he's taking music theory from Professor Sol. He's the best student when it comes to music and the best teacher here definetely wants him on his class.

It's too late when you realise you haven't removed your hand because he opens the door with yours under his, making it feel as though you're holding hands.

"So you finally decided to grace us with your presence? You shouldn't have. The class is about to end." Professor Sol scolds the two of you. She isn't exactly wrong. "I can pardon a student who already excells but the one who barely passes classes, I hope you know what you're doing Miss Y/N." One thing about her is that she notoriously discriminates between students and she's never liked you.

Yoongi's hand and yours is still connected and you feel him tense up. He actually used to be your guardian when it came to Professor Sol. And apparently old habits die hard because he grabs your hand harder and steps up a little. "The last I checked, at least eighty percent of your class fails every year, professor. It includes people who rank highest in some of the other classes. Strange, don't you think?"

Only Min Yoongi has the guts to do this. And only he gets a free pass after doing it. When the professor simply points you in the direction of the seats, Yoongi pulls you by the hand he’s still holding and sits you down. There’s immediately talk going around, people discussing if you were back together and all that. That’s when he snaps out of it and lets your hand go. So you’re finally able to let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. Then, he goes to one of the back seats and sits down himself. And you quietly wonder why that hurts you.

It's Hoseok's first day back and the two of you are enjoying some coffee at Ryu's shop, after a long school day.

"Y/N, I've got some bad news." he says, looking gloomy all of a sudden.

"Wha- hurry up and tell me." You hate the suspense, it makes you worry.

"I haven't been able to find a studio that we can continue the album with." He looks really upset. That's only natural, he's been working on this project for over a year now. Before you broke up with Yoongi, Hoseok was writing and producing a mixtape in Yoongi's studio with you and Yoongi's help. After you parted ways, the mixtape was put on hold.

"I've saved a lot of money this summer. We can look into some expensive ones too, I'm sure we can-"

"It's not the money, Y/N. I can't work on it the way I want to in any of those other studios. Even if it's one of the expensive ones." he cuts in. Yes, Yoongi was probably the only person to let Hoseok do his own thing.

"Well then, you should talk to Yoongi. I'm sure he'll be cool with working with you, still. As long as I don't show up, it should be fine."

He rolls his eyes. "I can't do it without you, Y/N. I'll need your help, so you'll have to show up eventually."

It's your turn to roll your eyes. You don't want anything to do with that studio. But you know how important this mixtape is to Hoseok, so you say okay. Even though you doubt Yoongi would be fine with you being there.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. In his damned, cursed, beautiful leather jacket... This time there's no hat so you can fully observe his bleached hair and notice how it's grown longer.

"Would you really be okay with it? I don't wanna put you in this position, no. Let's just forget it-"

"Hoseok-ie, you're lovely. But for now, shut up." You get up and make your way to Yoongi's table. Hoseok's mixtape has to be done, no matter what. Seems like he hasn't noticed you so you clear your throat to grab his attention.

"What?" he asks, not looking at you. Your blood slowly starts to boil.

"I need to ask you something-"

"Ryu, I kinda need that coffee asap, buddy!" He cuts you off by hollering at the barista and starts to gather his things. He really must want to get on your nerves.

"Actually, first things first, why in the bloody hell are you still coming here?" You can't help but lash out again. You discovered this place after all, you have the right to claim it.

"Excuse me?"

"I showed you this place, it's my territory. Don't you know the break-up rules?"

He laughs at that. In such a condescending way that you regret saying it. He stops getting ready and settles on the table once again. "You're cute."

Oh, you're so close to smacking him on the head.

"And you're an asshole."

Ryu comes with Yoongi's order and leaves it on the table. "I thought you were in a hurry." He says while heading back to the counter.

"I suddenly wanna stay longer." Yoongi states, looking straight at you.

Every fiber of your being wants to avoid his eyes and run away from there, he knows exactly how to make you vulnerable. But you endure. For Hoseok.

"I'll get to the point. Hoseok needs to keep working with you. Our situation shouldn't effect his mixtape, don't you think?"

He switches to serious mode quickly. "Was this your idea or his?"

"What does it matter-"

"I'm only okay with it if he wants to do it on his own will and not by you forcing him."

Okay, you do get a little bossy sometimes but he didn't have to put it as harsh as that.

"He wants to. He refused other studios and all that."

You think you see his lips curve into a small smile for a second. Hoseok and Yoongi got along very well, actually. You never wanted for them to stop being friends, anyway. This might be a chance for them to catch up even. Of course, there's a slight problem.

"But- he says he can't do it without... well, me. He wants to make sure that you're okay with-"

"Not a problem." Yoongi unexpectantly cuts you off. You're rendered speechless due to shock. He finally turns his head and looks at you. "My studio is a workplace, Y/N. Why would it bother me when you're there for work purposes? Especially when you're essential to the process."

Yoongi's sense of kindness is a very strong thing. But it's well hidden under all the coldness and sarcasm. You'd know, it had taken you a while to get to it. But when you did, it made you fall for him even harder at the time. And now, even though things between you are over, you can still see it.

"Thanks..." is all you can say while turning around to go back but suddenly your feet stop and turn back around. "Actually, thanks for before with Professor Sol, too. Even though you don't need to stand up for me anymore-"

"It's not that I needed to, Y/N. It's that I wanted to."

He goes back to gathering his stuff and you head back to give Hoseok the details of how it went. Just as you're about to, Yoongi stops by your table before leaving.

"Hoseok-ie, text me later to come up with a schedule for studio hours, okay?"

Hoseok is visibly happy and responds with a big smile. "Sure thing."

It's been three weeks since Hoseok started to work at Yoongi's studio again. But today is the first time that you'll be going there since the break-up. Even though time has passed, you're still not used to being around Yoongi all the time. Like having to attend almost all the classes with him and also, well... without him.

Without him sitting next to you, practically glued to your side, while you both silently giggle in the middle of the lecture as he whispers stupid jokes in your ear. The fact that you're consantly around him (not by choice by the way) prevents you from getting over him.

And now the studio... One of the most dangerous places for you now because of the memories you have with him there. You know, an intimate, indoor space with dim lights... A perfect spot for activities you definitely don't want to be reminded of. But for your best friend Hoseok, you have to go.

When you arrive, you call Hoseok to open up the door, too nervous to ring the doorbell. Once you enter, your giggly friend drags you hurriedly into the recording room.

"Okay warm your voice up. We should start with the vocals-"

"Wow there, pickle." you say. Vocals were maybe the only thing you told him you wouldn't do. What did he think? That he could hurry you into it and you wouldn't notice? "What vocals, Hoseok? I'm here to arrange, mix and maybe write some melodies, you know that."

"Shhh... look you gotta. Otherwise Yoongi's gonna have some other girl do it and I don't want that."

What girl? For as long as you can remember, Yoongi has tried to get you to sing. For Hoseok's and other albums. But you don't have confidence in your voice so you've always refused. And now he just wants some other girl?

"Have you told him you don't want that?"

"Yes, obviously. He told me if I can't convince you, we had no other choice. So c'mon, just try for me? Pleaseee?"

You sneakily glance out the window to see Yoongi talking with the said girl. She’s probably from your school even though you haven’t seen her here before. She’s standing a bit too close to Yoongi’s chair and leaning on him a little but that’s none of your business. And you definetely don’t care. But still, you can’t have someone whom Hoseok’s not comfortable with, sing in his own damn album.

You go out the room and toward Yoongi and the girl. “We need to speak.” you say and head for the other room. Yoongi huffs while following after you.

“What is it miss grumpy?”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really pulling an ultimatom on me like this? Hoseok clearly isn’t okay with this girl-”

“Hoseok isn’t okay with anyone but you. This isn’t my ultimatom, it’s his. Marley’s like the third person I asked to do this and he didn’t like any of them. Because what he wants is your voice. You really can’t see that Y/N?”

He sounds fed up and exhausted. What he says makes sense too, since you know how stubborn and sneaky your best friend can be.

He continues. “Look, if we want the album to proceed there are three options. First is Marley does the vocals and Hoseok will be unhappy about it. Second is there’ll be no female vocals which will make the whole thing empty and far from what we planned. Or third, you can do them and save us all the grimace.”

He makes it seem like he doesn’t care which you’ll go with but in his eyes, you can see hope that you’ll say yes to the third. But no. You’re not ready, you can’t. In your mind, you suck. So you convince Hoseok to go with Marley for now.

So, days go by. Marley comes pretty often to record. Hoseok’s not frowning that much about it anymore. And you notice how every chance she gets, Marley is pulling the moves on Yoongi. Which seem to work, since sometimes they come in or leave together. None of it bothers you at all, you tell yourself.

One day, you come in pretty late at night remembering you left your notes there. Since you have a spare key, you think you can be in and out unnoticed. Silly you because once you hear Yoongi playing the piano, you can’t just leave. You wait outside the room until he’s done and some stupid momentary courage makes you go in.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” you instantly say when you see Marley sitting next to him. “I just forgot my- I was leaving-”

“Wait!” Yoongi says hurridly to stop you. “We were done here anyway.”

Marley doesn’t look happy but gets up and leaves.

“No really, I got my notes and I was about to head out. She doesn’t need to leave on my account-”

“It’s not on your account. But since you came in here, you must have something to say?”

Why does it feel like he wants you to say something? Why does it seem like he wants you to stay? You’re convinced it’s your own mind playing tricks on you.

“No. I don’t.” you lie with a broken voice. But your feet aren’t leaving. And Yoongi is still staring at you with a cold attitude but expecting eyes.

“Fine.” you give up and say. “I thought the piano room wasn’t allowed to just anyone. I guess since she was in here...” you cut yourself off. The piano room was kind of your special place when you were together. Nobody other than you was allowed in here. This is the place you two would spend hours and hours coming up with songs. Or just talking about things you shared only with each other.

“I’m just giving her piano lessons for some extra cash. And this room doesn’t mean much to me anymore.”

His answer dissappoints you. Not the part that he indirectly said they weren’t dating. The latter part. “And here I thought the whole secrecy of the piano room was just your way of pulling the moves on whoever you’re dating.” As long as the sentence is finished, you regret saying it. You know it isn’t right. What you said is unfair to every intimate and meaningful moment you had with him here. And your words come down like the last drop on his patience.

He shoots out of the seat. “If I wasn’t so goddamn sure that you already know how you’re the first person I ever brought in here, I’d be hurt. But instead I’m just pissed.”

He’s right to be. So you can’t say anything back.

“How can you even-” he stops for a moment. “But that’s just your way, isn’t it? Spit out venom whenever you don’t like something.”

“Me?” you ask in shock. Now this you can’t have. “No. Poisonous words are your specialty.”

“And you already left me for it, didn’t you? You left me so why would you care who I bring in here anyway?” He’s switched to his shouting voice now.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But I left because you pushed me away, Yoongi.” He averts his gaze to the floor while you continue. “I know that you love music more than anything else but what I also happen to know is that you use it as an escape. An excuse to not get too close. But guess what? We were already too close for me to not realise what you were doing! And that is why I left!”

Both of you are obviously done shouting and silence takes over the room for a while. You already had to push back tears like twice now, so you decide to leave but just then, Yoongi has something to say.

“This room will never have any significance with anyone else besides you. Just know that.” he silently admits with his eyes still fixed on the ground. You don’t say anything and just walk away.

It’s nearly the end of the semester and Hoseok’s mixtape is finally finished. He was so exited that he accidentely published it three times in a row on soundcloud. And the fact that he’s getting some great feedback is the icing on top.

In the meantime, you’ve been doing a lot of thinking. After that fight with Yoongi, you’ve started to seriously consider the fact that maybe leaving him just like that was a mistake. Because yes, you were hurt that after all you had been through, he was still trying to keep you at bay. You felt like as you were falling completely and irreversably for him, he was still holding back. But when you left, you were gone all the way. Leaving him all alone when you knew he was hurt.

Spending the last couple of months together, you finally admitted to yourself that you missed him. And that it did bother you seeing him with other girls. It bothered you that Marley was so obviously into him. Even though he made it clear he wasn’t interested, you still felt... jealous.

But you never mustered up the courage to talk to him about any of these. Even though it seems like lately he’s trying not to be cold around you, trying to strike up random converstions in efforts to perhaps recover at least your friendship. For some stupid reason you can’t seem to dare let him back in.

Your buzzing phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You check and see it’s your best friend that you’ve been feeling extra proud of these days.

“Yes, my successful, on his way to become a star best friend?”

“Oh my god, Y/N. You won’t believe this!” he squeaks while talking. And you hate the suspense so you tell him to hurry up and tell you what’s up.

“Yoongi’s friend in radio 12 agreed to play the title song!”

“What??” you start to squeak in exitement as well. “When? When will it be on?”

“In about two minutes! Just put the station on, now!” he orders and hangs up immediately. He’ll probably call his parents next. You quickly do as he says and for sure, the next song is Hoseok’s title track. You start hopping in your bed, dancing around in your room with the dumbest smile on your face but then-

The bridge comes and it’s your voice. That’s impossible, you think. But it is you singing the bridge. And then it hits you. That one night you snuck into the studio with your spare key and recorded this exact bit, just to see how it’d be... As always, you thought it wasn’t good enough. But instead of deleting, you hid the file. Guess you couldn’t hide it that well, after all. Was it Hoseok that did this? Or...

Your phone buzzes again and once again it’s Hoseok. “Y/N- This was the best surprise you ever made for me. I’m literally about to cry, you sound so good! Thank you for doing this.”

It wasn’t Hoseok, then. But you’re thrilled to know he likes it that much. You’re thrilled to hear yourself on a freaking radio station that so many people listen to! It feels amazing. It gives you so much confidence. So much that after ending the call with Hoseok, you decide to go to the only person left who could’ve done this.

You’re at Yoongi’s door. You haven’t been here for a long time but despite the nervousness, you manage to knock. It’s pretty late but you know he’s a night owl, he should be up. Soon enough, he opens the door. He’s taken aback to see you at first but then his surprised expression turns into worry.

“I know why you’re here. I’m sorry I used the recording without your consent but-”

You launch yourself onto him and crash your lips on his. His response is so quick that it’s almost automatic. He pulls you in even more, closes the door with his foot and traps your body againts the wall with his own. All the while not parting your lips once. Your hands go to his hair. You’ve been wanting to brush your fingers through his hair ever since you’ve seen that he bleached it again after two years. You pull at the tips slightly. It makes him hum into your mouth.

“Wait-” he says while he pulls away suddenly. “You-” You’re both out of breath. “Are you really okay with what I did?”

“Yes.” You close the distance once again and this time he moves you to the couch. You’ve missed this couch. You’ve missed him...

He pulls back again. “Y/N- wait. What are we doing?”

“What do you think?” you tease as your lips travel down to his neck.

“I wanna talk to you first, though.” he manages to say between his panting.

“So talk.” you say and go back to the week spots on his neck, secretly smiling against his skin.

“You’re not-” he swallows a groan. “exactly making it easy.” He then pulls your head up to face him and gives you another long kiss. But this time not out of the heat of the moment. Instead with so much meaning engraved on it.

“Y/N... I never meant to hurt you.” he says staring into your eyes. “You were right, I was a coward but- I swear if you give me another chance, I will give it my all. I’ll be a thousand percent in.”

You smile. He looks so much like a lost puppy that it makes you want to tease him. “Well, prove that to me right now then.” you say slyly.

“Uhh- I will. I- I’m gonna go dye my hair brown, right now. I bleached it to get your attention, anyway. Not to attract others, I promise.” he says in panic.

You burst into laughter. When you first started dating, you talked him into not bleaching his hair anymore. You always said it was only for his health but he always knew you were jealous of girls getting attracted because of it, too. “No, don’t. I actually missed how even hotter it makes you look. Let’s keep that for now.” you say. “I was kidding, you don’t have to do or say any-”

“I love you.”

You pause. It’s not the first time he tells you that. But this time he says it in such a way that you’re certain it’s the real thing. Even more real than before. “I love you, too.”

“So...” he leans into you and whispers in your ear. “Couch or bed?”

You both giggle. “Surprise me.” you whisper back and he quickly tries to lift you but fails, making you both laugh out loud. “Umm- I haven’t been working out lately, baby. I’m sorry.” he says between giggles.

Between all the laughter, you silently thank him for giving you another chance, too. And make a mental promise that you won’t give this up so easily ever again.

....

A/N: This was my first Yoongi fic and I feel good about it. It’s really hard to imagine Yoongi not being a god at music so anytime I use him as a character, he’s always a prodigy lol. I can’t help it he’s just really good. Anyways if you’ve bared with this, thank you sooo much for reading and I hope you liked it. Let me know if you did. Always wash your hands and stay healthy :)

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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years

Text

Tryst-Chapter 10

I did it! I finally edited this thing. Still not completely happy, but they are, so 🤷‍♀️s! If you enjoy let me know. I love a like, reblogs are love, and anons are lifeblood! 😘!!

Tam

Inglewood

There seems to be an equilibrium they have reached, Helene decided one balmy afternoon home alone of her tiny apartment patio. She pictured it like a piece of a Johnny Cash song, them walking the golden line in the middle of U.S. streets. If they were to veer either way the emotional equivalent of oncoming traffic would flatten them.

Though she supposed that line felt pretty roomy, like an estate broker's favorite word, spacious.

Maybe it's a tightrope, and any imbalance means they smash upon the hard, unforgiving ground.

Helene had convinced herself that this was her own conception, that her lover, her boss, her Harry, didn't feel it as well.

Until she heard the album.

She'd been at the Paris listening parties, so she'd heard snippets, and she'd been in the studio a time or two, so she had heard rough stones being polished to diamonds, chord progressions and roughed out lyrics and melodies. That was all up until this point.

Helene was offered a choice, the whole of staff was, to hear the album early or with everyone else.

She had declined. Because she had a very clear picture of what it was about, who it was about. It stung. Not because she was unaware of his sorrow, or how he missed her, the other French girl, the one worthy of homage, but because, she had been there too- with him too. Every step of the way and through Paris and Rome, and Japan and Australia too.

It hurt.

As much as her eyes were open, muscle memory of the drill, the words cemented on her brain to console herself. He was in an open relationship, Helene was not in that relationship, she was simply a reason for the unbolted window. Always making cameos, never the headliner.

So, the album, as great as she kept hearing it was, would be confirmation of her role, or lack thereof. She wasn't ready for that truth.

She'd better get ready. Helene would be hearing it soon no matter what, and seeing him. It had been a little bit since Cancun, but the show was going on, and she was involved, expected. It wouldn't do to cry over her lack of lyrical odes in front of the fans, they all knew her name and face, and she wasn't so good a liar they'd believe a disclaimer of happy tears.

Before the first show went on, her own show needed to get on the road. It was time for her to break a leg, or her heart as it were. Her set up was optimal for a breakdown.

Empty hotel room, qui Tissues on the toilet seat, qui Full hot bath, qui Goblet of red wine, tout a fait.

Helene was as ready for heartbreak, or it's residue if that's where she was now, as ready as one can be.

Her clothes are easy to quit, sweats and a TPWK tank exclusive to crew. The water is hot, her skin will redden to match her tear streaked face.

The level of melodrama she's reaching for this is impressive to even herself.

"Allons-y" she mutters and presses play.

And Clairemeant, she loves it. From first cord, she can imagine being in his stupid convertible driving to Shanghri la. Helene wishes he had played this when they went, a moment of California dreamin. She knows the next couple, as everyone does, in his world at least. Soon the whole world probably. They were radio besties, not just friendly.

It's the next few tracks where her preparations pay off. The tears come. For him, for her, and for Helene herself. The worst part isn't even her own pain; the waterworks are for Harry. She can hear his broken heart and bad decisions.

God, she hopes he does not count her among those.

But She, She is a new place to be. It's exactly what she would expect him to make and miles beyond expectation.

Then Sunflower, god, is it ridiculous to feel like there are glimmers of them? If kraft services counted as kitchens. It's the toothpaste. It's the fact that on their first go, they didn't know each other. Not really. She was his employee. She knew him, intimately, from all the watching, much less creepy than it sounds when it was her job. But she was somewhere between an insider and an outsider. Always an observer, never a participant was the lot of a photographer.

Except when Harry pulled her into the shenanigans, onto his lap, or some other harmless flirty gesture she couldn't forget.

Helene never lived in a canyon, though all of Paris seemed to rise around her some days. That one was nothing to do with her, and after a couple songs reprieve her heart seized all over again.

Helene loved that he'd made a song for his motto. It had all the silly he made cool. Even if he broke her heart sometimes, she loved how her kindness grew watching him cultivate and sow his own. The harvest was in the venues, and her heart.

After that happy high, she's not ready for the closer. Though she suspects she may never have been, no matter practice or preparation.

Fine Line throws her, thrills her, and makes her think.

Is it her? Is it them? Is it like most of the rest, Camille?

Helene is aware she is simplifying. Music isn't exactly clear in its inspiration or intention. There may be shades of her throughout.

In this last song, she feels more than shades.

Had they ever been anything besides a fine line? Somewhere between one thing and the next.

She hesitates to think something more, that denigrates their friendship. Romance isn't necessarily superior, that's a bought and sold fairy tale she has tried to unlearn.

But, if she is honest, being together would have felt like more, better. Because she wanted him, wanted him to want her.

Some of the lyrics trouble her.

She didn't think she was unknowable though. Maybe at the end, when she let him open her completely everywhere, and then promptly hopped over into one territory and only tread their old familiar line accidentally once.

Could she ask him? Would she? Tomorrow?

Non, that's not like her. Helene's direct in desire, but not in definition. Probably why they got stuck walking the line.

But they were alright. What a comfort that was.

Whatever the truth, the inspiration, when she heard it live, tomorrow, she would pretend or hyperextend. Believe. She'd believe it was about her.

———————————————————————————

Helene always forgets what it's like to see his face in person, be in a room with him. On paper and in her mind when she is away, she can rationalize. 'He's handsome. But not extraordinary. You know better looking men, have shared more time with some.'

And then he is nearby, and her entire body is aware of him.

Moreover, so is everyone elses. That is his power, super prowess. He has this energy that galvanizes every libido in range. The hell of it, it turns on a dime and you want to ruffle his hair just after riding his face. He's so sexy and frustratingly endearing.

His gap between adorable and sexy is so small, and bowtied to perfection.

"What's new pussycat?" He whispers near her left shoulder before she can even fully take him in.

"Enfin!" She could see the rear of her brain case. Harry turned her body into his hug and was responding to her exaggerated exclamation.

"See Jeffrey, I told you she had the best eye roll!" He giggles a bit and holds her long, in that way anybody else probably couldn't get away with. Someone might rightly think they'd tasted every part of one another if he didn't hold everybody like this.

Helene takes the opportunity to smell him. He always smells good to her, even his stink. Sweat drenched and ball's empty or dandied up and stage worthy, he tasted like her first meal out when she returns home to Paris.

" I cannot believe you remember that conversation." She said into his neck.

It quelled his laughter.

"How could I forget the look of disgust on you and Sarah's faces. Too good to not use!"

"You gonna use it on Sarah too? Or would Mitch put your nose between your pretty eyebrows?"

"Don't mock my eyebrows!" He pulls back, but she's still within the walls of his body, bracketed by his arms. "They just grow like this."

"Qui," she snorted. "Don't forever I've photographed you being groomed, ma belle."

"She's just cleaning them up! I swear."

"She just took your man card Harry." Jeff 's snickering.

"He didn't have a man card since long ago." She and Jeff laugh together.

"Heeeey!" His offended face goes soft around his smiling eyes. He tilts her body away from the small backstage crowd and she wonders where they are going. She's still going; her toes have all but left the ground while he leads her with his whole body.

She follows her heart.

Helene always feels small, but he makes her feel deliciously tiny. He leads her down a corridor, past people he waves to and she would have stopped to hug in other circumstances. She'd missed this circus family. Finally, she just has to ask, "Harry, where are we going? I don't have my equipment." If he wanted her to capture the moment, she needed a camera. He did this sometimes, this drag to a piece of personal history or set up he saw well in his mind's eye. His enthusiasm always contagious.

He didn't exactly have that energy going on now, he seemed nervous rather than excited.

"That's a bit unfortunate. S'ok though I only want a mental picture of your face. When you tell me." He pulls her through a door, a different dressing room from last time, which she realizes upon entry is actually an office.

"Where are we?" Helene asks as he positions himself between her and the door like she might make a break for it.

"Irving's office." He explains off hand. "Now tell me, what' d you think?"

"Quoi?" She can feel the screw of her face to the left. She has no idea what he could mean, she'd been so busy keeping up with his footsteps, she had no idea what he was on mentally. They didn't always connect easily, he wasn't always an open book, but she'd figured out how to crack him a time or two. It was easier with a camera at her eye, or both of them naked.

"Of the album, my album." He pinches his bottom lip and wrings his hands a tad.

"The album?" Her brain's slow. Why were they talking about this?

"You' re the only one who hasn't text me, or responded. That's included I mean."

"Included?" What?

"Please stop repeating me in one word questions, Helene!" He looks up and blows out a breath. "Did you like it? Are you upset?"

"Upset?"

"Helene!"

"Harry, lower your voice."

"Apologies." He takes her hand. "Now, did you like it?"

Ah, it was easy to forget how praise was like water on a neglected plant to him. He just wanted assurance that her love of his work would fill her photos again.

"Qui, clairement, it's gorgeous."

"And?" He looks, she couldn't quite place it, Like a puppy trying to sneak into your bed. Hopeful but preemptively scolded.

"And?" She opens her palms to him, subconsciously trying to release his nerves about whatever he's asking her opinion of.

"Did you hear it? At all." He rolls his eyes, but it was so clearly at himself that Helene takes no offense. "Hear us I mean?"

"I didn't want to presume." She starts after a pregnant pause.

"Presume, tournesol, presume." He leans close and she can really smell him. Not pungent like Mexico after hours of sun, or after a night on stage. But, days lazing or loitering in Italy under warm skies.

She shakes her head at him. She felt a spark of recognition that she'd classified as hope during that song, but, "that one is not all me."

"No, not entirely. It is an idea, a feeling fleshed out, but an ode none the less." He assures her, all eye contact and vulnerability.

He's closer now, enough to touch. And she could have? Would, but she had a more important question, a deeper song to address. Though she had to admit, most days Sunflower was her favorite. "Am I in any others?"

"Glimpses. Though one is mostly you." He gives her an encouraging smile, mischief around its edges.

She sucks in a breath. She really wants to know, she's become so much more that she was since she met him. Braver, kinder, richer in many ways. Could she be direct as well? What would Dominique, her most forward friend, do? "And the ending. That feels like a beginning?"

"Fine line?" His dimple's out. Helene might feel upset that he's a cat and she's the mouse if he wasn't a Tom to her Jerry.

"Qui, fine line?" If she just lifts her hand, his jaw will fit just so, always has., or the beautiful curve of his shoulder.

"That one," he's smiling like the time he presented her cake on her birthday. "I realized in Mexico is you!"

"Not until Mexico?" Now she didn't want to touch him, not even his fine shoulder.

"I knew while writing, the glimpses of you, but only one part was, her, was" he swallowed. She hoped it wasn't still pain slicing his throat as he forced the feeling down. She'd even take regret. "Camille" he took her hand. More friendly than the conversation. "The rest, the hope, is you." The nerves were foreign to him when he was with her, he didn't wear them well, his only awkward fit.

Helene let's her eyes fall closed while his breath wafts over her face. That was more Harry. The taste of caffeinated mint. The familiarity messes with her head, it's a bit false but never forced.

She wants to accept his compliment, even though he's undercut it with an inconvenient truth. Their relationship was not one. They were friends, they slept together sometimes, he was her boss and her muse. But they were never together, and "that's nice, Harry, but, forgive me if it seems, well convenient."

"Convenient?" Oh, his brows are as tangled as his growing curls. Damn him.

"Me belle, it's hard not to notice who is not here, but everywhere on the album." He narrows his eyes in response to her observation. "And I also have someone else to call baby."

"You're with someone?" His pretty brows nearly touch above his nose.

"Qui." It was a bit of a stretch, really. A man she is dating, fucks occasionally. They're not exclusive, and she likes him, Rene, but no more has developed With anybody else, since she gave Harry Carte Blanche with her body. She had liked him, them, a few of them, thought they had potential. She supposed they still did, it just hadn't developed. Helene has never pushed them down the hill.

It hadn't stopped her from being with Harry in Mexico.

Helene talks about him now, hoping it will slow down the ball rolling from the top of the hill in Harry's mind. If he'a just realized he wrote about her and still believed sharing that notion just after she spent several hours marveling, begrudgingly, over his words to another woman, her clothes would fall off over one song for herself, well, he might be right. But she needed some kind of defense mechanism.

She's lacking a chastity belt, Rene's specter would have to do.

"How long?" He asks quietly.

"A bit." She wasn't going to give him details. That was showing him the chinks in her honor.

"Oh, ok, well, that's good." He clears his throat, looks at her with murky eyes. "I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for you, as well." She hugs him, to touch him and reassure him. "This album, tour, will be a great success."

"Yeah, yeah." He says trying to believe it. "Now that it's out there, I hope so. But we are going to make it fun. You up for some fun, Helene? This time out?"

She's confused, last time was fun, but she supposed her life was changing so fast, she had no grand expectations to carry on her shoulders and no one broke her heart during tour.

That came after. He must be going into this round with a different attitude.

"Yeah, fun sounds good." He high fives her and she can't help but laugh at him. It turns into another hug, and all the distancing she'd done during this conversation ceased when he kissed her flaxen hair.

"Break, break a leg, Harry." He smiles, the nerves making it quiver just a bit as they go their separate ways.

—————————————————————————— The album closer is approaching and Helene is suddenly nervous. Sunflower kinda made her shake, luckily it's such a damn happy jam, her feelings didn't sweep her away. It's already been a magical night, and she knows the magic doesn't end with the album. Harry has some amazement up his pink sleeve.

His outfit had been distracting, not like Paris or Madrid, but it's so pretty and such a cute silhouette. Helene realizes while she is snapping away. It was distracting because she wanted it herself. It might overwhelm her small frame, but that pink would look good on anyone. He might loan it to her, Sarah and Mitch wore his clothes sometimes.

She's at least as close.

Closer.

He says something before he begins, and it's loud so Helene has to translate it twice, figure out his words and then think them in French. The song's started before she realizes he's said its a difficult song to perform for the first time.

She can't put her finger on why, but she feels for him, for herself. Her brow is knit up like that time she tried to make a Christmas scarf and the little piece of her heart she took back from him breaks free from its stitches and goes to him, right where he stands on his big stage.

The music starts and it's the build that gets her. Just like the first time. She admits she listened to this one repeatedly, Listen one- physical experience, listen two- listening for the glimpses she thought she had caught of herself. Listen three- cry time.

Helene does not want to weep, but it seems she might be in good company. Harry's doing his closed eyes thing. She teased him about that onetime.

"Is it easier to hear how good you are if you close your eyes?" She'd asked this from the head of the bed while he lay across the bottom rubbing her feet.

"What?"

She supposed it was a nonsequiter. "When you sing and when you fuck, you close your eyes sometimes. Is it so you can focus on the screaming?" She pushed him with her foot and gave him a flirtatious smile.

"I don't need to hear the screams to know I'm good." He'd smirked at her and she would have kicked him off the expensive high hotel bed, but he continued too quickly, "To be honest," oh he was serious now, "It's when I get emotional. Or I need to focus."

"Like to hit a note?" She likes his explanation. He keeps his eyes closed sometimes when he's inside her. She hopes that, she, makes him feel; she's too afraid to ask him about that though.

"Or to make you hit a note!" He'd dropped his emotional temperature quickly, grinned and tackled her. "Let's see if we can get you to a G7!"

She did not hit any whistle notes, her orgasm had actually been pretty silent, but the build up had been harmonious.

The conversation came back to her now. His eyes were definitely closed, as they had been during Falling, and a few other times. But, he'd said this was hers, theirs, and he seemed to be feeling, if her memory served, and she remembered so much about Harry, she trusted it.

And then, as her eyes are unquestionably about to spill over to wet the forum floor with her fellow Harry fans, his open. They find her like he's been tracking her all night, and that may be true, though that is more her job, to always be aware of him and his location. But she's rooted there now. She may never leave this spot, Because there is emotion in his eyes, it's not humid like hers, but it's intense.

He eventually shifts to connect with a paying customer, but Helene is a mess. She has to go back stage to collect herself.

She almost misses Stevie, and even if he wrote songs about her, Helene is fairly certain she would get fired for that. The rest of the show is a blur. She snaps it by muscle memory.

Helene also doesn't stay for the after party, it's all to much. It's a departure from her normal behavior, she would almost always stay, with her camera, and to be with everybody. Tonight she's planned to. She missed them dearly, she just couldn't after that moment.

Harry doesn't have that luxury, it's his party, which is why he doesn't knock on her hotel room door until 3am.

She thought she'd got away with it.

Helene's still awake, barely, and when she answers the door, she knows she's mussed. He's seen her like this before, he's caused it. She's too tired to care much.

"Harry," she sighs. "It's late, Cherie."

"You left, and I needed to talk to you." He walks in like he owns the place. She supposes he did pay for it. He just turns to look at her, and if she didn't already feel exhausted beyond measure, those eyes on her may have sparked the fire he lit long ago in her belly.

"Go ahead." The sooner he unburdens himself the better, she looks longingly at her bed.

And then he just sighs and says, "are we?"

She's doubts the face she makes is attractive, "are we what?"

"Alright? Are we alright?"

God, that's a major question. What they are is a shadow of existence, some half way place between what they could have been, what they should be, and then what they are. It a very strange set of loops, like the comparison charts from school. They are colleagues, no doubt, friends, thankfully, and lovers, occasionally. Do any of those designations mean they are alright?

Because she doesn't want occasional lovers. She's put distance between them because she wants more. Halfway is not alright to her.

"Helene?" Oh, she's just been biting her lip this entire time. She really wants to go to bed, but, they should get this done before tour. Does she tell him she wants to be the dead center of his life, or just leave it at they are alright and go to dreamland.

Either are scary in their own right and he's distracting.

He's wearing comfy clothes, the yellow shirt and large trousers she'd snapped him arriving at the forum in. The shirt hugs his body and it makes it difficult for her to pretend she doesn't want to be really open about her feelings. Sometimes isn't enough, not anymore, maybe not ever.

"Let's sit."

"Uh oh." Harry exhales.

"Uh oh?" She looks up at him.

"Is the next sentence 'we need to talk?'"

"Well, we do, or you wouldn't be here on the wrong side of the sun."

"Fair enough." He sighs and sits back, his head hits the back of the couch. He's stretched out, and her small frame would fit well between his hips and chin. She's tempted to do it, to straddle him. Then the talk won't happen, and all these things will be left up in the air. And she will be narrative adjacent, still.

But she's in his narrative, right? If the song is about her? Is that enough?

So she sits with him. "Harry," she takes his hand and he looks so hopeful. "What does it mean to be alright?" Helene is surprised by her own question. It's direct, perhaps not as direct as it could be. She's unsure what he's asking. Is he asking her for more of the same? Today's same, where they are flirty friends and colleagues. Or the alright of yesterday, where she's his friend and employee with benefit.

That's not alright.

Or does it mean something else, something more. Like the feeling after the build in the music, hopeful, open ended: a chance taken.

He finally yanks his eyes open, and Helene remembers he performed an entire concert and went to an after party. That he is center stage in many peoples life. Is she insane to want to be his locus? Harry opens his mouth, then closes it.

"I guess, I don't know."

Helene nods. It's not a surprise, he just wants harmony and everybody happy. He may not have thought beyond them being ok on the surface. He's not ready for the conversation she thought he was asking about.

"We're fine Harry. You're tired, you should get to bed." She stands to show him to the door, is suddenly back to wholly exhausted herself.

He's shaking his head.

"Harry's it's 330. We need sleep."

"I didn't like that you left."

"You don't get to make me stay at a party. It's not part of my duties."

He's still shaking his head. "No, I'm not saying this right. It's not alright."

"What isn't?" God, she's frustrated, wants him to be clear.

"That you don't want to be around me. I miss you." Well that's obvious for him, and wrong.

She closes her eyes. "Did you ever consider, maybe it's that I want to be around you too much."

"What do you mean?" He looks puzzled but there is light around his eyes, blue skies and clouds.

She sighs. Someone has to be vulnerable, Might as well be her. She knows how straightforward he just was must pain him. "I mean, I don't want to be with you at the party," he's cringing. "well, not just." She takes a fortifying breath. "I miss you too, but I miss what we could have been as well. And I can't," she could do this. "I can't just sleep with you when you are feeling lonely anymore. We are either friends or we are more. It's not fair to me. I can't walk the fine line anymore."

He's looking at their interlaced fingers. A drop hits her hand.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers

Her heart breaks. He doesn't want this. She tries to take her hand from his. Dammit, why did they have to do this in her room? She can't run away now.

"No, no." He looks up. Why's he sad when she's getting rejected? "I'm sorry I took you for granted, or made you feel like you were my second choice."

She'd not said that.

"I can read between your lines, Helene." He touches her cheek. "I had feelings for you, but I was already with Camille. And then, I was mourning. And it takes me bloody ages."

She wants to role her eyes. She supposes it's kinda true, but he was mourning his rejection.

"I've realized since then, my heart was bruised, but my ego was what got broken. And I wasn't in a place to offer you anything. Not until Mexico, but then things just got busy and we didn't talk."

"We never do." She purses her lips.

"We need to." He holds her chin in his hands. "So, I'm asking. Will you cross the line with me?"

God, her heart is swelling, and she's afraid to look at his face. Is he really asking what she is hearing? "Harry, amor, what does that mean? I can't speak in metaphors." She can, but it's trouble with him. He's a metaphor himself with his figurative edges and blurred meanings.

He sighs, chuckles to himself, and lets go of her hand. He cups her face and draws her eyes up to the tide pools of his. The tides in, he's teary. "I want to do it together, not have you cross the line hoping I follow, or me waiting on the side for you thinking you understood what I was asking for. But together."

She huffs, she stilll, always, doesn't know what the fuck he is talking about. "What line Harry?" She assumes when someone is holding your face gently you shouldn't be yelling in their face in return, but he is so frustrating. "I still don't know what you are saying."

He laughs at himself, or at her, or them. "I'm saying, we should do this, you and me. Like a real relationship. Not just when we are together on tour or meeting up for me to work. But you come home with me to London, or Malibu, or wherever. Or I go with you to Paris, and we don't leave."

"Are you suggesting we move in together?" She's smiling, finally. The edges of her lips would be at her earlobes if they could be. "You may want to ask me to be your girlfriend first."

"We've been moving at a glacial pace for years. But that's not really what I meant—"

"I know." She shakes her head fondly. "So?"

"So-" he takes a big breath. "Will you be my girlfriend, Helene?"

Oh god, this is what it feels like to look at the sun. To be the sun. "Yes!" It's a whisper, but full of emotion if not voice.

She's not sure why she is so overcome by it that she can't speak, but she can move, she's straddling his lap a moment later.

He laughs, "it's hard to kiss you when you are giggling." But he's vibrating along with her and his bunny teeth clack against hers just as much. His hand is in her hair and it's not until it slides down to cup her jaw that she can't laugh anymore.

Not when he is looking at her like that. His heart is in his eyes and her face is in his hands. Harry's eyes always sparkle, but the combination of mirth and awe shakes her like an earthquake.

The kiss goes better then, or it more closely resembles a kiss, in that their lips form to one another, going from right angle to straight line to acute in time. His tongue has always been devilish and she wonders if it's vocal training that renders it so.

She's more vocal than him, as always, and she's panting his name when his hand engulfs her throat before sliding her silk pajama top off her shoulder to kiss her neck, collarbones, the tops of her breasts. Her nipples stand high on her plum sized mounds and they always trill along the roof of his mouth deliciously. His other hand is around her hip and he's gripping it fiercely to move her over him.

She's halfway there on his question alone, but their venue seems a bit uncomfortable. Helene almost reconsiders her position on their positioning when Harry has that perfect mouth between her breasts and below and the back of the couch is perfect to hold onto while she arches back, back, back. She's bent in two when he pulls her up to his mouth.

This time she is getting his teeth. Why's he giggling again, this is serious business? If she could just concentrate, get him to focus for a moment, she can have her first orgasm of the night.

"Harry, Cherie." She tríes again, her tongue ready to slide over his lips and into that pattern that makes her shiver when his teeth block her again. "Please kiss me!" She's frustrated.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to move to the bedroom, girlfriend, but you're very focused." He's still smiling and her ire melts at the appellation.

Does she want to go to the bedroom? She won't have the back of the couch to hold onto, but she will have Harry.

She stands and drops her loose shorts. As is usual, Harry has most of his clothes on and she's suited up for her birthday.

"Alright." He breathes and she's in his arms and he's finally giving her the tonguing she loves en route. Her in the altogether seems to have finally got him from mirth to girth, pressing against her and filling the void at the apex of her thighs the way only he has.

She's happy Harry seems to have been enjoying their bodily arrangement as much as she is, when he sits on the side of the bed and maneuvers to the middle with her still draped around his waist. He's said before he loves how maneuverable she is, and she is loving her tiny stature at the moment too.

Her hands are pulling his t shirt free and tossing it away. She loves the golden hue of his skin, he's always a little tan, even in winter. The milk and honey of their bodies against one another always delights her. She goes for the button on the jeans she'd like for herself. They won't fit her, but he always fits, snug at first and then just right.

He kicks them free and then she's back on top of him doing the wiggle to get his inside her, pressing over the largest part before the pressure keeps up and then everything slips into place, the audible pop of his tip still her favorite part.

They both exhale, and smile into each other's eyes. Helene touches the corner of his eyes and they twinkle back at her. "Hi boyfriend."

He chuckles and she moans over the tiny vibration it causes. "You're ready then?"

He already knows the answer to this question. Helene braces her hand behind her while she nods and then his hand is beneath her ass flexing her pelvis over his own.

He really is her prince of rock and roll. She rolls up over him and rocks over his dick until he's closing his eyes and drilling her hips. He's split her open, bottom up and it's intense.

"Give me a minute." He chokes after less time than she expected.

"Too much?" She likes that the shoe is on the other foot, usually she needs a break from his unrelenting physicality, Harry the athlete in the bedroom as well.

She supposed it takes emotion to force Harry to a quick release.

She's keeps flexing around him until he puts his head to her collarbone and then looks up to glare at her. "You're walking a fine line!" He says before he laughs at his own joke.

"I'm not waking anywhere. I'm loving you." She let's that sit there while her hips are quiet. That's all she's going to say about that. He stares at her intensely.

"Let me see you love me, then." She likes when he gives orders, even when their sex is closers to making love than fucking.

Helene obliges him, caves her belly back and starts the ride again, notches her head next to his, like the teeth of zipper, so she can watch with him.

It gets her there, but he's a little ahead of her. He's stilling her hips again. "Stop." It's a beg.

"Just come bebe." She whispers into his sweaty skin.

"You're not ready." He protests.

"We have all night, you can spread me open, all. night. and all day tomorrow, and after." She smiles at him. "All the time in the world to know me!"

"Yeah?" He's gleeful like a kid finding tooth fairy money.

She nods and starts moving, directs his gaze down. The edge of pleasure closer than she expects. Harry is rarely wrong about pleasure. Helene's happy her climb surprises them both.

She reaches the peak and plummets with him on the rollercoaster of emotions tonight's brought. Screams with the thrill.

It's more than fine, the white light explosion behind her eyelids. They've found the right side of the line.

They'll be alright.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #Inglewood #fine line live #chapter 10 #halene #tryst

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onthesandsofdreams · 3 years

Text

Gifts and Letters

Pairing: Diana x Steve Rating: T Summary: Steve leaned forward and kissed Diana, “Then, that’s the plan. And while I don’t want to, I really must leave you now Diana. Your first surprise waits for you on my sock drawer. Hope you like it, it’s an envelope. I love you.” Words: 1654 Notes: For @steventrevor, who requested WonderTrev & Letter. Hope you like it Mara, sorry for the delay. Tagging: @mousedetective

Read @ AO3

“Must you leave?”

Steve sighed. Yeah, he didn’t blame Diana, he himself did not wanted to go, but, work was sending him overseas for the first time in their relationship and he would be away for a week. Their longest separation yet. “I have to,” he told Diana with some reluctance. “Being COO is harder than what I’ve expected, but I like the challenge.” He then grinned at Diana. “Besides, I have a surprise or two and you won’t have time to miss me.”

Diana shook her head. “I miss you already and you’re not even on the plane. I love you, you know that and it’s… hard to stay behind. I wish I could go with you.”

“Yeah, I know. But your work needs you, how about this, I’ll scout Rome and find the best places, and then, when we’re on vacation, we can go to said places, together.”

Diana smiled at Steve’s thoughtfulness. “That sounds lovely.”

Steve leaned forward and kissed Diana, “Then, that’s the plan. And while I don’t want to, I really must leave you now Diana. Your first surprise waits for you on my sock drawer. Hope you like it, it’s an envelope. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Diana told him and watched as Steve boarded his plane. And then, quite reluctantly, made her way to her car and drove home.

Once Diana was back in their shared apartment, she went straight for Steve’s sock drawer. They always respected each other’s privacy, so it felt strange to dig through his things. But, there it was, at the bottom, a pink envelope sealed with heart sticker. She smiled at it, took it to bed with her and opened. It was a letter.

Diana, Knowing you as I know you, you probably opened this message the moment you came home. I don’t blame you. I miss you already. So, here is what I want you to know: I love you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone the way I love you. I love you with the certainty of knowing that the sun rises and sets. Nothing could ever make me part from you willingly (save work right now, ha!). You have made a home in my heart and I do not remember my life without you in it.

I miss you, with all my heart, Steve.

Ps. Next letter will arrive tomorrow.

Diana smiled softly at Steve’s words. It was so kind of him to make sure she didn’t feel neglected. It was one of his things, he was a hopeless romantic and she loved him for it. And now, she couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see what would come.

Diana placed the letter on her desk, and carried on with the rest of her day, and nothing was able to wipe her happiness away, even if she had to deal with a meeting that should have been an email.

The following morning, there was a knock on their door very early. Diana was still sleepy and in her pajamas as she made her way to the door. She opened to find a messenger there, “Morning miss, package for Diana Prince?”

Diana nodded, “That is me.”

The man offered the package and asked her to sign. Diana did, the man wished her a good day and left. After closing the door and making her way to her sofa, she began to open the package and she couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her, it was a plush toy. A pegasus and it had a letter. She took the plush and smiled, it was pure white with silver wings. She settled it on the sofa next to her and took the letter and opening.

Diana - I know you will alone during this week, and I hate the fact that I will not be there to keep you company. To wrap myself around you and keep you warm. To feel your body resting peacefully next to me, it will be hard for me to sleep without you. And so, I hope my gift keeps you proper company for this time as I am away.

Love, Steve.

“Oh Steve.” Diana’s smile grew, and she took back the pegasus in her hands. It was so cute, and it would be the perfect sleeping company. She names him Rockwell, in honor of Steve. Later on, she sends Steve a text with a heart to thank him for the plush, Steve replies soon after with another heart and ‘Miss you’.

And her day is good, and she finds herself looking forward sleeping with her plush.

The next day a gift comes at her office. Diana arrives to find a big bouquet of white roses and an envelop. She sets her purse aside and takes the envelope. It’s from Steve. She opens the envelop and sits, inside, there’s a small note.

Diana, I miss you so much that I can hardly wait to have you back in my arms. Your beauty leaves me breathless, and only these flowers could ever hope to match it. Well, they don’t entirely, but they will compliment you quite well. And I hope they brighten your day and your office, you are always on my thoughts.

Steve.

Diana has to resist calling him, she doesn’t have a watch that tells her the time of Rome, and she doesn’t want to cause him trouble, if he’s working. She conforms herself with a heart eyes emoji text and ‘I love you, thank you.’ Steve’s reply comes swift. ‘Love you too.’

They speak, later that night and Diana has to hang up first. She’s not exactly happy about it, but she’s happy at the thought that Steve will come back in four days. She can handle four more days, besides, she has Rockwell.

The next gift and letter comes after work, something for which Diana is thankful, she had had to deal with donors and she was ready to pull out her hair. This time, the gift comes in the form of her favorite cupcakes, the letter is short, barely a line that reads: ‘Sweets for my sweet. I love you.’ And yet it uplifts her mood better than anything else could.

Diana has cupcakes for dinner that night.

The next gift arrives right before Diana leaves for work. Is a gift card to her favorite store and the letter is a bit longer this time.

Diana, To say that I miss you is an understatement. I miss your perfume, how it washes over my senses. How the softness of your skin feels against mine. How your hair is soft, like silk between my fingers. You make me so happy and I can’t thank you for that. You’ve changed my life and I am thankful that you have done so. So, let me spoil you, go shopping. Buy yourself whatever you want.

Love, Steve.

Diana smiles, tucks both letter and card in her purse. She has to be at the office as soon as possible, but she will take Steve up on his gift. And maybe, she can buy something that they both can enjoy. Maybe some really fancy lingerie. With a grin on her face, she made her way to work and if the day seemed to pass faster, well, it was all good.

Steve’s next gift comes the next day after she has arrived home. And Diana opens the box with care, it has fragile written all over and, knowing Steve, it probably is. Which is why she is quite pleasantly surprised to find several of her favorite artists’ albums in vinyl and a record player. Eagerly, she opens the letter that is stuck to one of the albums.

Diana, Remember how we meet? I do. It was a charity gala my work did, you wore that beautiful blue gown and your hair in a bun. In my eyes, you were the most beautiful woman in the room and you left me breathless.

We danced after I finally gathered my courage to approach you. And as I looked into your eyes, the music faded and all I could think was how much I wanted to be lost in your eyes forever. You cast a spell on me, one that I’m not exactly sure I ever want you to lift. I love you so much, and now, we can dance to the tunes you love so much.

All my love, Steve.

“Oh Steve.” What else is there for her to say? Diana did not know that Steve felt like that, when they first met, Steve had been calm and professional, but then again, given his letter, he might have been able to hide his emotions better than what she had expected. She picks her favorite album, plugs the record player and sways along the music – alone for the moment, but she knows that Steve will be home tomorrow at night, and she can’t wait.

Saturday morning seems to drag itself slowly, and Diana is near fit to burst as she waits until it’s time to go and pick up Steve. This time, her gift and letter arrive mid afternoon. It’s an art book she had put on her wish list a while ago and nearly had forgotten.

The letter, simply says: I love you. I’ll be home soon.

And yes, Diana knows and can’t wait. She does anything and everything she can to keep her mind and body busy, otherwise she’d only look at the clock every five minutes and grumble on it not going faster. It’s six when she finally – finally! - makes her way to the airport to pick up Steve. She waits near the gate and watches as people come.

And then Diana spots Steve. And without waiting beyond he coming into the actual airport and away from the gate, she rushes forward and without much care, she kisses him deeply and holds him in her arms. Steve’s home.

#wondertrev #Diana x Steve #Diana Prince #steve trevor #wonder woman fic #wonder woman #au: modern #as requested #established relationship

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homeformyheart · 3 years

Text

until now - m!raleigh carrera x mc (plat)

author’s note: trying my hand at a shorter piece and for platinum – there will probably be at least one follow-up to this but both will stay as one-shots.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. songs and lyrics owned by their respective creators. series/pairing: platinum – raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian); mentions of jessica clark (red carpet diaries mc) rating/warnings: 13+; swearing, infidelity, angst word count: 1.7k based on/prompt: “should’ve said no” by taylor swift summary: raleigh gets too drunk and too close to a fan and the only real relationship he’s ever had falls apart.

until now

cadence could recall exactly where she was the moment r&b’s timebomb blew up the internet. she couldn’t recall with detail how she felt or how she reacted in that immediate moment but she could describe the exact shade of brown from her morning latte that stained the open page of her notebook because she stared at it for a solid five minutes after the headlines broke. she was working on a new single for her upcoming album that needed an angsty, heartbreak vibe to balance the upbeat, love-focused songs she had already written. she had a few lines written (it’s strange to think the songs we used to sing / the smiles, the flowers, everything) but had been struggling with motivation to come up with anything more – after all, she hadn’t been heartbroken in a while.

she was happy in her relationship with raleigh and where she was in her career. her first world tour had been a huge success, with raleigh joining her on tour as often as he could. after her tour was over, he insisted he didn’t want to wake up in his apartment without her and it didn’t take long before cadence moved into his penthouse. a few months later, she was able to join raleigh for the beginning of his transformation world tour, his first album since deciding he could embrace the things he enjoyed from his sunset skatepark days, making it his most personal project to date. of course, whenever the music and obligations to the studio called her back to new york, they facetimed as much as they could.

dating cadence had given raleigh some of the “good boyfriend” brownie points with the public related to loyalty and affection. it helped that cadence defended him against unfair accusations and doubled down on how well he treated her to the media and their fans. and no matter what part of his reputation was theme-of-the-week over at the tabloids – shameless flirt, heartbreaker, wild card, adrenaline junkie, to name the popular ones – raleigh never gave anyone a reason to label him as a cheater and more importantly, never gave cadence any reason not to trust him. even in his fake relationships, raleigh made sure that that part of his reputation was sterling. until now.

her phone had buzzed non-stop when the news broke – to the point where she thought she was getting phone calls that sounded like a ticking time bomb but they were mostly texts and social media notifications. the headlines filled her feed one after another – “raleigh carerra cheats on cadence dorian!” “did ralence break-up?” “was cadence too boring for raleigh?” “cadence drives raleigh into arms of another woman!” – along with hundreds of theories painted by devastated and thirsty fans alike who picked apart every public appearance, interaction, social media post, and song lyric associated with the two of them for the past six months as if they could find incriminating clues and signs of a slowly fizzling relationship like amateur sleuths. cadence had to give them props – it’s not like she wouldn’t eventually do the same once she was ready to process the relationship; in some ways, the fans gave her a head start.

how was she supposed to react to this right now? the photos and videos definitely highlighted that sabrina simmons, who cadence vaguely recognized as a media-hungry and wannabe actress from one of raleigh’s older music videos, cozying up to and grinding on raleigh at a club in london, presumably the afterparty for the closing night of his tour. cadence could also point out every tell-tale sign that raleigh was drunk out of his mind; he was relishing in the attention from sabrina and being inappropriately handsy for someone in a well-known, committed relationship. what most people didn’t know, was that cadence could forgive that – raleigh was normally flirty and handsy and alcohol always exacerbated it. what she didn’t think she could forgive was the next thing she saw – or rather heard.

if cadence felt like she was close to either having a raging smash-everything-breakable-in-raleigh’s-apartment spree or an emotional-because-her-heart-was-actually-breaking meltdown, the audio clip that hit her inbox pushed her to the teetering edge of both. the recording was barely 15 seconds long but it was damning. given the circumstances, it was probably planted or planned by sabrina who wanted to catapult herself into internet fame by taking advantage of raleigh’s reputation. her voice could be heard asking him if he wanted to come back to her hotel room. the question didn’t matter to cadence though, because raleigh’s response – “fuck yes” – was clear as day and cadence knew it would haunt her for months to come.

[jessica: just saw the videos – u ok? i’m heading home to iowa for a break from work, come stay with me, no one will find you there]

cadence quickly typed out a text reply, grateful for the close friendship she had with jessica clarke, the actress-turned-director who directed the music video for her last single. there was only one call she needed to make. if anyone was already putting things in motion, it was fiona. right on cue, she picked up and before cadence could say two words, said, “i’m so sorry cadence. i’ve already got movers on the other line and hank’s on his way.”

“thanks fiona. i’m going to stay with jessica in iowa and lay low for a bit. raleigh is not allowed to find out where i am; i will get a new phone if i need to,” cadence said, calmly starting to pull out and sort her things from raleigh’s closet so the movers would know exactly what to pack while she ironed out a few more details with fiona.

raleigh was still way too drunk when his manager barged into his hotel room and forced him into the shower. he was very drunk when his security team had to half-drag him all the way to where the private jet was waiting at the airport. he was mostly drunk throughout the eight-hour flight back to new york and progressed to staggeringly hungover by the time he was in a private car heading back to his penthouse apartment. once raleigh felt like he was only massively hungover, he pulled out his phone to text cadence. he became only mostly hungover after seeing that his texts weren’t going through. in a matter of seconds, his now slightly hungover state took a backseat to the anxiety filling his stomach as he tried calling to no avail. he frowned as he opened his news feed. the headlines alone made his eyes widen but the videos were what sobered him up the rest of the way.

a new email in his inbox from cadence caught his eye. it was an audio clip and a straightforward message: just so we’re clear, our relationship is over.

cadence was halfway to the airport when she saw the incoming call from an unknown number. she knew it was probably raleigh since she had blocked his number, but she answered the call anyway. she knew she was going to need the closure, may as well get it out of the way.

“cadence? it’s me, please don’t hang up. i’m so sorry, babe. i have no idea what happened, believe me. i woke up in my own hotel room alone, i promise,” raleigh begged, the pit in his stomach had lodged itself in his throat, threatening to turn into tears.

she chose to ignore what he just said. if she let herself pull at that thread and dig into it further to see if it was the truth, she’d never be able to end things cleanly. “tell me this – was she worth it? was she worth this?” she asked, her voice hardened as a reminder to both herself and raleigh that he couldn’t sweet talk his way out of this one.

“of course not. i was black out drunk and don’t remember anything, i swear. all of the stuff in the videos and photos, it was all just—” raleigh’s voice softened, “a moment of weakness.”

“that’s convenient since i’m pretty sure this wasn’t an isolated moment,” cadence said in a clipped tone, examining her worn nail beds. she made a mental note to ask jessica for salon recommendations in her hometown. “do you honestly expect me to believe we could ever be the same?”

“i love you, cadence. i would never cheat on you, babe – you have to believe me,” raleigh pleaded, swallowing his pride at the fact that he was begging right now.

cadence let out a dry, humorless laugh. “i don’t have to do anything, those recordings speak for themselves. you should’ve known that what you did with her would get back to me. and you know what i think? you knew what you were doing. you actually had everything you could’ve ever wanted – the fame, fortune, and creative freedom that comes with success in this industry and something real with someone who cares about the real you, not the curated, fake version of you.”

she paused to take a deep breath and blink back the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. keep it together, cadence, she told herself. “and it scared the shit out of you, didn’t it? it got too real for you because having something real and precious as love in your life also means you could lose it too. and even the thought of that happening made you feel so vulnerable that instead of treasuring and protecting it you decided to utterly destroy the only real relationship you’ve ever had. congratulations – you’ve perfected your bad boy reputation and collected the last trophy you needed, cheater.”

her words cut right through him. “i— i’m so sorry, cadence,” raleigh whispered into the phone. “i swear, i don’t remember saying yes to her or even doing anything with her. please just, tell me what i need to do to fix this.”

the audio recording replayed on loop in cadence’s mind. after a long pause, she whispered back, “you should’ve said no.” the finality of cadence’s tone was punctuated by the beep from his phone indicating she had hung up.

raleigh stood up from the couch where he had sat while on the phone with cadence. as he walked toward the bathroom, he finally looked around his apartment and realized that all of her stuff was gone. the apartment was empty, quiet, almost sterile with its clear surface areas and shiny, clean floors. it was like she had never lived here; his closet didn’t have the hint of jasmine from the perfume on her clothes, his sink counter was devoid of her jewelry and makeup, his music room wasn’t drowning in loose sheets of paper covered in her handwriting, and worst of all, the clothes she always borrowed of his, including his oversized tour shirts and sweatpants, were folded neatly on his bed.

he reached into the back corner of his closet, the side closest to the door, where no one ever stored or looked for anything until he found his gym bag. his felt around the old shirts in the bag until his fingers wrapped around a small, velvet box. he didn’t have to open it to recall the vivid five-carat emerald-cut diamond ring he had planned on proposing to cadence with. he held the box against his forehead, hand clenched around it, before throwing it as hard as he could out the bedroom door into the living room, twisting and turning his body from a crouching to an upright position in one smooth motion. maybe he should’ve been a baseball pitcher instead. it hit the far wall with a resounding thud.

the echo reverberated throughout his living room until it was met with silence, once again reminding him that he was utterly alone. and for the first time in a very long time, he cried. raleigh carrera had never been heartbroken before. until now.

* * * * * mentions: @raleigh-edward; @dulceghernandez; @thegreentwin; @kat-tia801; @otherworldlypresents; @brycesgirl; @robintora;

#reposting for new blog #choices #pb choices #playchoices #raleigh carrera #raleigh x mc #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #choices fanfic #choices fanfics #playchoices fanfiction #my writing #not twc #choices platinum #choices fic writers creations #raleigh carrera x cadence dorian #my choices fics

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jacaranda-bloom · 4 years

Photo

Monthly fic rec showcasing some of the fics I’ve read this month, and let me tell, you there have been a lot - partly because I’m reprioritising my reading again and partly because we are being inundated with an avalanche of amazing fics at the moment. So yeah, be prepared for a fairly sizeable list under the cut.

In this instalment, there are fics from @sunflowrsix @kiddleau @metal-eye @flamboyantommo @icanhazzalou @sadaveniren @crinkle-eyed-boo @lululawrence @beau-soleil-louis @homosociallyyours @kingsofeverything @crazyupsetter @laynefaire and @allwaswell16.

Thank you to all the writers for sharing their wonderful talent with us. Please don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoy their work. 💜

💜 an entire desert in our hourglass by tofiveohfive

@sunflowrsix Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 19k

# Pre-apocalypse, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, post break-up, getting back together, anal sex, alcohol.

The world is ending. Harry comes over.

💜 bloodsport by tofiveohfive

@sunflowrsix

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 40k

# Friday Night Lights AU, angst, post break-up, getting back together, underage drinking, anal sex, American football.

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

💜 Half A Million Strong by kiddle

@kiddleau Part 1 of the Woodstock Series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 51k

# Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Historical, 1960′s, Woodstock, Coming of Age, Recreational Drug use.

Louis Tomlinson is a young writer for a relatively new-on-the-scene rock magazine called Rolling Stone. His assignment is to fly across the country to cover the highly anticipated Woodstock Music and Art Festival. Armed with a notebook, audio recorder, and a camera, Louis just needs one big interview.

Harry Styles. A new name in rock music and a future name in rock history. His first album sold tens of thousands and his interviews attract audiences across the country. He has the poetry of Jim Morrison and the stage presence of Mick Jagger. And after seeing him perform at the festival, Louis is willing to jump through hoops to put Harry on the cover of Rolling Stone.

💜 Gather No Moss by kiddle

@kiddleau Part 2 of the Woodstock Series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 50k

# Friends to Lovers, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Historical, 1960′s, Pining Tour bus, Coming of Age, Recreational Drug use.

Music journalist Louis Tomlinson will do just about anything to get a story he’s passionate about. Including spending a week on tour with the hard-to-manage rockstar-in-the-making Harry Styles. In the late 60s, every long-haired kid thinks they can make it in music, and Louis’ job is to figure out what exactly makes Harry so special. That is if he can get him to put down the bottles and guitars to answer a question truthfully.

💜 Caught By The Sun by metal_eye

@metal-eye Tumblr Fic Post Part 1 of the Caught By The Sun series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 19k

# Cabin AU, Summer Romance, Young Love, Skinny Dipping, First Time, Idiots In Love, Symbolic Thunderstorms, Bonfires.

He came every summer. It wasn’t even a question. Harry and his parents—one step, one real—picked up their lives, packed it into a car, and drove long enough to land at the ends of the earth.

The cabin had been in his family for a hundred years. There was no TV, no phone, no computer, no radio. There were decks of cards and plastic deer and marbles. There were skis and leaves and a treehouse.

And then there was Louis.

Or, Harry and Louis meet every summer at the lake.

💜 Somewhere Where You’re There by metal_eye

@metal-eye Part 2 of the Caught By The Sun series

Harry/Louis | Mature | 4k

# Cabin AU, Timestamp, Nostalgia, Blow Jobs, Boat Sex, Lake Sex.

The greatest luxury, in this new part of their lives, should have been time. It stretched at varied intervals with no attention to what the real world might find convenient. Hours yawned like horses’ mouths, stretching backwards in the effort of seconds. Except that Harry couldn’t help feeling like he’d missed out, somehow. That he needed to hurry. They’d been denied their formative horny years. Something had to give.

A Caught by the Sun timestamp in which they are both lazy and horny, and some things get resolved.

💜 Members Only by kikikryslee

@flamboyantommo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Mature | 14k

# Gyms, Boxing, Awkward Flirting, Mutual Pining. Locker Room, Semi-Public Sex, Smut.

“Well, I’m gonna go work out now, so…” Harry said, his voice trailing off. Louis nodded. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Go get, uh, you know, strong and buff.” What? Louis wanted to die. “Um, thanks?” Harry said. “Um…” Without another word, Harry walked away from the desk. Louis pinched his thigh – hard – hoping that was some terrible, awkward nightmare that he might soon wake up from. Or, the one where Louis works at Harry's new gym and neither one of them knows how to hold a coherent conversation with the other.

💜 I’d Still Dance With You by kikikryslee

@flamboyantommo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Mature | 57k

# Age Difference, Louis is 28, Harry is 21, Mutual Pining, Angst, Student Harry, Ad Exec Louis, Slow Burn, Smut, Bottom Harry, Top Louis.

💜 Naked and Proud by kiwikero

@icanhazzalou Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 19k

# Farmer Harry, Songwriter Louis, Small Town, Organic Food, Summer Romance, Lust At First Sight, Pining, Smut.

The town itself is tiny, as evidenced by the ten minutes it’s taken Louis to drive the entire thing. There’s not a single recognisable brand in sight—no Tesco or McDonald’s or even a bloody Starbucks. Lining the streets instead are mom and pop stores with names like ‘Jerry’s Burgers’ and ‘The Market Basket’ and…

“'Naked & Proud?'” Louis almost slams on the brakes at the outlandish sign, the name written in a seemingly innocent font, words curved around a large cartoon peach. He can’t help turning into the carpark, easing the car into a spot next to a beat up truck.

He isn’t sure what to make of it. Surely it isn’t a strip joint or sex shop, not with the families and little old ladies going in and out of the establishment. Some kind of nudist hangout, perhaps?

And, oh, God. Did Louis’ mother accidentally send him to live in a nudist colony?

In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

💜 Paint The Sky With Stars by kiwikero

@icanhazzalou Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Mature | 63k

# Titanic AU, Strangers to Lovers, Happy Ending.

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

💜 Just For Tonight (I can be yours) by SadaVeniren

@sadaveniren Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 43k

# ABO, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Prince Harry Styles, Secret Relationship, Arranged Marriage, Mpreg Harry, Smut.

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha.

💜 Live A Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire (HisDarlin)

@laynefaire Tumblr Fic Post

Liam/Zayn | Explicit | 58k

# Exes to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Farm Setting, Vineyard, B&B, Horses, Smut, (check full tags).

It’s 2025.

After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.

With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

💜 Mine Would Be You by crinkle-eyed-boo

@crinkle-eyed-boo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 115k

# Exes to Lovers, Artist Harry, Writer Louis, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Jumps, Smut.

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

💜 Own The Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo

@crinkle-eyed-boo Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 115k

# Friends to Lovers, Drug Addiction, Coma, Rehab, Intervention, Recovery, Therapy, Tomlinshaw (Larry Endgame), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, (check full tags).

“But I don’t belong here,” Louis insists. “Why do you say that?” James asks. “These people are all drug addicts and alcoholics,” Louis shrugs. Something sparks in James’ eyes. “And you’re not?”

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

💜 Fiction Romance by orphan account

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 18k

# Strangers to Lovers, Blind Date, Punk Louis, Student Harry, Smut.

Harry has a type.

He likes older, sophisticated, mature men. Well-educated men. Men with life experience and passion for arts and social causes. Men who are established in their careers, who've sorted their lives out.

Niall knows this.

And so Harry can't understand why he's sat here opposite Louis Tomlinson.

💜 If Only We Wish Hard Enough by lululawrence

@lululawrence Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Not Rated | 5k

# Peter Pan Fusion, Louis is Peter, Harry is Tinkerbelle (except he’s the same size as Louis), Friends to Lovers (no smut), Flirting, Pining, Fluff.

Before Harry let Louis know he was there, he gave himself a moment to just admire him. Truly take him in.

Today, Louis was wearing one of his soft, simple green dresses that in many ways resembled the ones fairies often wore. Harry loved when Louis wore dresses. They showed off Louis’ waist and thighs more than any of his other outfits, and Harry loved that about them.

“You know I can hear your wings fluttering so you aren’t fooling anyone,” Louis said before turning and looking over his shoulder.

Or the five times fic where Louis is Peter Pan, Harry is his best friend Tinkerbelle, and it takes them awhile but they figure things out.

💜 I Can’t Do This Alone (Sometimes I just need a light) by Only_angel_28

@beau-soleil-louis Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Not Rated | 8k

# Strangers to Lovers (no smut), Meet Cute, Doctor Harry, Tattoo Artist Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Touch-Starved Harry, Flirting, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, (check full tags).

“Harry,” he says after another contemplative moment, “can I hug you?”

It’s been...well, Harry doesn’t actually know how long it’s been. Less than an hour, probably, but already Louis says his name like it’s safe in his mouth, and now he’s opening his arms like Harry could be safe there too.

“Please,” Harry nearly sobs, and sinks into him the way butter melts on toast. It’s an apt metaphor, really, because what Louis is giving him is as essential and sustaining as a loaf of bread to a starving man. His basic need for physical affection is as vital as his need for sustenance, for sleep, and he can’t believe he’s allowed himself to ignore it for so long.

Or: Harry is having a rough time. Louis is the kind stranger who makes him smile again.

💜 You Make Lovin’ Fun by homosociallyyours

@homosociallyyours Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 110k

# Girl Direction, Strangers to Lovers, Polyamory, Cruise Ships, Silver Fox Louis, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Smut.

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

💜 As Deep As The Sky by swallowsmateforlife

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 12k

# ABO, Strangers to Lovers, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Smut.

A passed-out omega on the bathroom floor isn't exactly what Harry had in mind when he thought about taking a cute boy home. The idea of leaving Louis there, vulnerable and unresponsive, weighs guiltily at Harry's conscience. Turns out it's the best decision he'll ever make.

💜 Someone To Fly Home To by kingsofeverything

@kingsofeverything Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 35k

# Exes to Lovers, Divorce, Older Harry/Louis (in their 50s), Pilot Louis, Teacher Harry, Smut.

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to. Harry swipes right.

💜 Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows

@crazyupsetter

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 96k

# Proximity Curse, Blood and Gore, Supernatural Elements, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Smut, (check full tags).

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

💜 Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by whoknows

@crazyupsetter

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 41k

# Creatures AU, Vampires, Incubus, Dubious Consent, Blood and Violence, Smut, (check full tags).

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

💜 Say Something by kingsofeverything

@kingsofeverything Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 105k

# ABO, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Age Difference, 50 Year Old Harry, 28 Year Old Louis, Insecure Harry, Unplanned Pregnancy, Lawyer Harry, Theatre Manager/Actor Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, (check full tags).

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

💜 Until by allwaswell16

@allwaswell16 Tumblr Fic Post

Harry/Louis | Explicit | 38k

# Strangers to Enemies to Lovers, Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, Actor Harry, Songwriter Louis, Cowboy Harry, Farm Setting, Smut.

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

#June 29 2020 #28th appreciation #except I'm a day late - oops #june fic rec #fic rec #monthly fic rec #ficrectag

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

Text

She is forever - Part 1

Series Masterlist - Stucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC, Bucky Barnes x OC (Ophelia Wright)

Summary: When Steve and Bucky went to the army there was a girl they went to school with who wasn’t allowed to go. She was left alone and never thought about again, until Steve sees a carbon copy of her on the streets outside Stark tower and she seems to know them just a little too well to be a stranger.

Word count: 2076

Meanwhile, outside, Ophelia walks with a pace closer to running than walking. Her coat isn’t even closed yet and her scarf is on the verge of blowing off her shoulders. She is in a hurry, getting herself together and calling someone. ‘Hey, we need to talk. I think they know.‘

‘Get inside.‘ ‘Thank you.‘ Ophelia throws off her jacket and scarf, throwing them over a chair at the kitchen table. She went to the one place where she knows she’s safe. This place is Mary and Josh’s house. They are like her. They have seen the world grow, watched wars go by, and seen lovers come and go. They know how important it is to have someone you trust, even if you only get to have them for a little bit. They know how excited Ophelia was when she learned that both Steve and Bucky were still alive and understood that she wanted to be close to them even if she wasn’t able to talk to them for her own safety. Mary and Josh are a nice couple to be around and quite fun to look at. Mary grew up in the Netherlands, aka the tallest country in the world, while Josh grew up in America. Mary is over 1,80m tall while Josh barely reaches 1,75m. And on top of that, Mary likes to wear high heels as part of her “modern“ 50s aesthetic. When the fashion of that time made its break, Mary got obsessed and decided that that was the thing for her. They still live in a house that is heavily inspired by the 50s and Mary still exclusively wears clothes that she sews from patterns made in the 50s while Josh is a suits all day, sweats all night kind of man. They fit each other well. ‘Tell me,‘ Mary speaks as the kettle starts whistling. She goes to make tea for the both of them while Ophelia gets comfortable on top of the dinner table. You have floor people, you have couch people, and then you have table people. People who prefer sitting on a table over anything else. Ophelia is such a person. It frustrates Mary, but she doesn’t bother telling her to get off the table because she won’t. She never does. ‘I made a mistake,‘ Ophelia mutters, head hanging, staring straight at the floor, ‘I saw someone drop something and went to hand it back and it was Steve. I didn’t realize, but I saw in his eyes that he just... he knew.‘ ‘This can’t just be about that,‘ Mary hums, pouring the tea for both her and Ophelia, ‘you wouldn’t be this upset if it was just that.‘ She hands Ophelia the tea and finally meets her eyes. They are red and swollen, like she has been crying. ‘They know where I work now,‘ Ophelia stammers. ‘Wait, they?‘ ‘Tony Stark buys a lot of art from me and because I’m too stupid to change my name every once in a while, he knew who I was when Steve used my name and now both Steve and Bucky know.‘ A tear rolls onto her cheek as her chest starts to shudder. ‘I don’t want to disappear.‘ ‘Oh honey.‘ Mary puts her tea down on the table and wraps her arms around Ophelia to let her cry out. It had been a long time since Mary saw Ophelia cry like this. The last time had been when she first lost Bucky and Steve during the war. She had met Mary in the Dutch army and cried to her when she got the letter that confirmed their deaths. The thought of losing them again is too much for her. Ophelia knows that she has to let them go someday, when they get old. But she heard their stories. They’re not much older than they were before and they could still live a long time. She wanted to watch them life their lives and then she could say goodbye. That’s all she wanted. A proper goodbye. The front door slams closed, a loud thud is heard, and then the sound of shoes being thrown away. ‘I’m home,‘ Josh calls through the house, but his cheery attitude changes as soon as he sees Mary and Ophelia at the kitchen table. He rushes over and puts his hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. ‘What’s wrong honey? Why are you crying?‘ Mary lets Ophelia go and wipes the makeup from under her eyes while Ophelia tries to talk through sobs, but no words come out so she looks at Mary. ‘Bucky and Steve saw and recognized her,‘ Mary explains to her husband. ‘Oh, that’s not good,‘ Josh says without realizing it and hears another fit of sobs come from Ophelia. His eyes shoot back at her as he grabs both her shoulders, leaning down a little so he can look her in the eyes. ‘Hey, hey, hey, look at me sweetheart, look at me. We’ll make it work. We always do. We know how special those men are to you. We’ll figure something out. All of us together.‘

In the common room of the Stark tower, Bucky and Steve sit in front of the coffee table staring at the business card Ophelia gave them. Both of their minds are running. Should they call? Would she know? Are they giving themselve hope? Suddenly, Bucky gets up and walks away leaving Steve to struggle with his thoughts alone. He couldn’t take it anymore. The thought of meeting the Ophelia they grew up with is too painful. Especially because this isn’t her. What if she isn’t exactly like Ophelia? He would only get frustrated at the difference between them because she isn’t going to be how he hoped her to be. It’s unfair to the both of them. Steve has a different ethical situation playing in his mind. Is he obligated to grand a granddaughter stories of her grandmother if her grandmother never told her? Would their Ophelia mind that? She never wanted to be in pictures, what if she just wanted to be forgotten after she died? He’d be better of not telling her, but the granddaughter’s curiosity might change his mind. “This is Ophelia Wright speaking.“ She sounds upset, but Steve won’t mention it. He isn’t in a friendly place with her anyway, so what could he do about it. ‘Ophelia, hi, this is Steve. Steve Rogers.‘ “Oh, hi Steve. What can I do for you?“ ‘I wanted to ask you if we could get some coffee together? I am quite curious about your grandmother’s life.‘

And so Ophelia ends up in a café twiddling her thumbs and waiting for Steve. She didn’t think she’d be this nervous, but to be fair, she’s going to have to perform a whole story that isn’t true. She has to pretend she isn’t herself. Truth be told she has done it a million times, but it’s different when it’s Steve she’s talking to. ‘Ophelia?‘ She looks to her side. ‘Oh, hey Steve, how are you doing?‘ He sits down at the table with her, dressed in a T-shirt and cap, something he would’ve never been seen in back in the day. To be fair, T-shirts weren’t really in style back then. She had opted for a long sleeved, fitted blouse dress with a belt around her waist like she used to wear back then. The emerald one she decided to wear might even be from back then. She didn’t check. She should’ve checked. What if he recognizes it? ‘I’ve been doing fine,‘ he answers with a friendly smile, ‘how about you?‘ ‘I’m good. A bit tired,‘ she admits, ‘I decided to dig through some photo albums for you to see if I could find a picture of my grandmother.‘ She grabs her bag and takes out an envelope. ‘They’re not much, but I found these. I copied them, so you can keep these if you’d like. Maybe James would like to see them as well.‘ Steve takes out the pictures. The first one makes his heart drop. It’s Bucky, Ophelia, and Steve just a day before Bucky was leaving for war. In the picture, Ophelia had made Bucky lift her on top of his car and told the two of them to pose in front of her. When the picture was taken she had taken Steve’s hand to help her off and they had fallen on the ground together, after which she helped him up. All he gained from that day was a kiss on his cheek. ‘Wow, thank you so much. This is amazing,‘ Steve smiles brightly. Ophelia reads the nostalgic look in his face like a book. She knows exactly what he thinks. Those moments were the best they had ever had. The only moments that she had considered taking a picture, even if it would put her in danger. ‘You two look so much alike,‘ he says with tears in his eyes. Ophelia grabs the picture for a second and pretends to study it. ‘Honestly, I don’t see it,‘ she jokes. But her grabbing the top picture reveals the picture below it to Steve. He recognizes it right away. Bucky had taken it when Ophelia had convinced them to go skinny dipping one drunken night. In the picture, she’s on Steve’s back with her arms wrapped around his neck, completely naked. ‘Oh, shoot,‘ Steve mutters and Ophelia sees a blush appear on his cheeks as he quickly flips to the next picture. The picture is even worse and Steve recognizes it right away. It’s the picture Ophelia gave Bucky “to masturbate to“ when he was stuck with other soldiers. Steve had stood right next to them when she gave it to Bucky. He swallows heavily while Ophelia giggles. ‘My grandma was a handful, wasn’t she?‘ ‘I’m sorry, but why would you give me these?‘ ‘Because all of them were in an envelope that had your name on it,‘ Ophelia tells him, ‘I’m guessing she wanted you to have them, but never got around to giving them to you.‘ ‘But what about this one,‘ he shows the last photo to Ophelia, ‘she gave this one to Bucky.‘ ‘Not exactly,‘ Ophelia smiles and pulls the originals out of her bag, ‘I knew you’d ask because of the writing on the back. So this one was for Bucky and this one was for you.‘ She gives him both the pictures to read the writing on the back, pretending like she didn’t write the raunchy text on the back herself. She knows why she did it. She was planning to disappear when Steve and Bucky deployed. She stayed because Steve didn’t get in. If he hadn’t, she would’ve given him his picture and leave to another country that next day. ‘Can I take pictures of the writing?‘

“Dearest Bucky. When the nights get cold and the boys start looking attractive, see this as a tool to keep your sanity and think of home. I’ll still be there when you get back. I promise, Ophelia.“ Bucky reads the text of his old photo of Ophelia out loud to Steve. ‘So what does yours say?‘ “Dearest Steve. I know tenderness is your trademark, but when you give into your vices I hope you’ll think of me. See this as a little push to your corruption. Love, Ophelia.“ Bucky smiles, looking through the pictures Steve had taken with him. ‘You know what strikes me as strange,‘ Bucky says, ‘from the way you talk about this girl, it seems like she knows us better than we know ourselves.‘ ‘She said her parents used to call her an old soul,‘ Steve says as rebuttal. ‘Old soul is one thing, knowing someone you never met is another.‘ ‘What are you suggesting?‘ Steve leans back on the couch looking awfully aware of the delusional suggestion Bucky is about to give, knowing that it will hurt the both of them if they get it in their head. ‘What if she’s like us,‘ he says. ‘What?‘ ‘What if she was frozen too? She used to hang out with us all the time, we know how agile she is and that she has a good set of brains,‘ Bucky rambles, ‘what if they thought they could preserve her for a project as well and just threw her out after messing with her head like they did to me?‘ ‘Bucky, I-‘ ‘But what if.‘ Steve shakes his head. He thought he was getting emotional, but he hasn’t seen Bucky this fired up in years. Ophelia was a great friend to them, but he never imagined she meant this much to Bucky. ‘You’re going to get hurt if you keep thinking like that.‘ ‘I know, but sometimes the world is prettier in my head.‘

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