#fun fact i was named after fleetwood mac and so i have big feelings about all their songs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pennyserenade · 3 years

Text

TINY DANCER

tags: javier peña x female oc, javier peña, rockstar!au, fluff rating: t ( teen ) (for now) warnings: language, alcohol word count: 1.6k+ summary: a band of young men from laredo, texas are on the verge of rock’n’roll stardom and anita rodríguez is the woman who follows them into it. a story of rock’n’roll and all the fluff that follows notes: this is very self indulgent and heavily inspired by the movie almost famous, as well as whatever fleetwood mac had going on, and the book daisy jones & the six. as you can tell, this is a genre of fiction i favor heavily, and i’m more than happy to make this everyone’s problem. thank you for baring with me

Summer time has never tasted so sweet on the tongues of these impassioned young men from Laredo, Texas, she bets. Perspiration covers their foreheads as they stand under the much too bright colored lights, and the crowd before them cheers them on with an eagerness that belongs only to those who really loved music. And they respond like men who really love music—all smiles and grins and heavy panting from giving their young bodies away to it. One might even say their souls.

Even from behind the curtain, she can feel the wave of electricity that rolls off of them. It is a beautiful thing to hear after suffering under the heavy blanket of Texas heat for her own performance.

They had liked her alright, responded about as warmly as they could for an opening act they hadn’t really known, but they turn these young men into Gods. She feels it tight in her stomach, that everlasting and endless excitement reserved for falling in love, not with people, but with moments. Even if it’s all for not, this little musical and spiritual journey she has partaken on, she will at least have been there for the moment these men had exhaled themselves into true and complete stardom.

Not bad for a band called El Fuego, she thinks.

“My God they’re something, aren’t they, Anita?”

Her sister holds aside the curtain to make room for herself. “The one in the really tight jeans was talking to me during your performance. He’s beautiful, I swear it. Just godly.”

Anita smiles. “You can’t fall in love with rockstars, baby sister, it’s unethical and impractical. Have your years with me taught you nothing?”

“Yeah, but those rockstars were a dime of dozen and tight jeans looks like sex out there,” she whines. Anita scans over the men, trying to decipher whom she might mean. That’s when she catches Tight Jeans’ eyes. She gives him a grin and without missing a beat, he gives her a charming wink. A wink reserved for a man on top of the world.

“What’s his name?” Anita asks.

“Javier Peña,” she responds. “He’s just gorgeous isn’t he? They all are.”

All Anita can do is grin as she continues to watch the rest of their performance.

****

This isn’t her first rodeo. This isn’t even her second or third or fourth. In fact, she’s lost track of the times she’s been led back to hotel rooms with a slew of people she doesn’t know, swept dangerously up in the shared euphoria that is the after show comedown.

In her hand she holds her second drink of the night. It’s a concoction she’d mixed for herself, made up of too much juice and too much alcohol, but she deserves it, she reckons. She’s opened for a damn good band and she’s a pretty damn good singer most of the time, and that Javier guy has been looking at her all night, despite the group of women that surround him. He has a good way of being present with them and present with her, too, genuine grins and attention for all to spare. Like the charming and humble lead guitarist he is, he strums idly at an acoustic guitar while he speaks with the women.

She’s been standing in the same place for too long, drinking the same second drink, listening to the beginning of songs he starts before he falters off into the next one. Even over the light hum of chatter and the radio nearby, she can focus on him. She watches his fingers as they strum—watches the way he doesn’t need to look down at them to keep them steady and trained. He’s a professional musician, through and through, even if he may just be some guy from Laredo to most individuals in the world. His manager had been so brave to wager that they were going to hit nationwide success by next week when one of their songs got radio air. She asked if she could keep opening for them, when they got big. All he did was grin. She likes to think it’s a yes.

“Hello.”

Coming back to earth, Anita finds Tight Pants in front of her. Not starling close, but enough to elicit something ghastly in her.

He smells of leather and good cigarettes, and her baby sister was right, he does look like sex. He’s all lean muscle, and though the perspiration has gone from his forehead, she bets if he were to lean in close and press his lips to hers, she might be tempted to taste the residue of it in what would become haste and passionate kissing.

“Hello,” she responds.

“I’m Javi, from Laredo.”

He extends his rather large hand for her to take, and she does. She wonders if this is the approach he uses with a lot of women. He’s good looking enough to be dangerous, but then again, she’s smart enough to understand where the line between fun and serious ends and begins with these men. She’s a rockstar too, privy to sex and drugs just like the lot of them, even if she is just a one man band.

She puts her hand in his and he gives her a firm shake. “Anita,” she says, then inspired by the liquid courage in her, she adds, “From somewhere warm, but hopefully headed some place better.”

He gives her a laugh and she finds that unfortunately, it’s the sort that makes one’s own lips tug upwards.

“You sounded good tonight. Did you write that song?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You sounded good too. I mean, you probably know that already, but.” She smiles. “Who writes for you?”

“Graham.”

“Graham’s the...”

“Lead singer. Dirty blonde over there talking to your—“ He looks at her. “Sister?”

She nods. “Yeah. She said she had talked to you earlier.”

“Yeah. We talked about your someplace warm. California, is it?”

“Cali indeed.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Well, Javi, I’m sure you’re about to.”

His dimple appears for her. He looks at her like she wishes he wouldn’t, because it makes her badly want to stick to his side for the rest of the night. And on his lips.

Even more unfortunate for her, he rummages in his pockets and pulls out a packet of those good cigarettes that make up his aroma. He opens it and takes one out for himself, sticking it between his lips, before offering her one.

“You smoke?”

She takes one. “Sometimes,” she nods. “Are we allowed to, in here?”

Javi shrugs his shoulders as he lights his. “Dunno,” he responds. She leans forward so he can light hers too. “Suppose we should go sit on the balcony on the off chance that this is the one hotel in America that doesn’t allow it?”

****

“You know Me and Bobby McGee, Laredo?” she nods down to his guitar.

The air outside is just cool enough to be comfortable in, so, despite that their cigarettes have long been stamped out and the party inside awaits them, they stay on the patio, rooted to the furniture. He hasn’t made any moves on her, a fact which takes her by surprise, and so they’ve lulled into a comfortable ebb and flow of natural conversation.

He tweaks his fingers on the neck of the guitar before he begins to strum the strings of it . His hair, overgrown in a way that suits a man of his occupation, cascades over his forehead as his brow becomes pinched from focus. In an instant, from his fingers comes the tune of her desire. He looks up at her, grinning, once he gets into the flow of it.

“¿Hablas español?” he asks, over his guitar.

“Un poquito, but not much,” she tells him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he dismisses, “Can you sing Me and Bobby McGee?”

“Sí.”

He laughs. “Well, put on a show then.”

***

She sobers up halfway between the sun tucking itself into the sky and the sun peeking back out from the horizon, but she can’t remember when. They’d played a lot of songs and her throat feels hoarse, but she can’t recall any one song that had felt particularly clear. It all sort of blended together up until this moment.

Javi lays, back rested against the chair, looking tired. His guitar now rests beside him, quiet, and he stares out at the city below them.

There’s a soft hum of normal people doing normal things below them; the horn of an eager taxi driver, the breaks of a bus, the chatter of patrons going in and out of the hotel.

They sit in the comfort of this city’s morning routine while she smokes his last good cigarette. “I was never much for staying up all night,” she tells him, passing it over to him.

He takes it between his lips and nods. “I was never much for sleeping all night.”

“And why’s that?”

He shrugs, exhaling the smoke. “Don’t know. Sometimes the past haunts me, sometimes it’s just too fuckin’ hot, sometimes it’s the company.”

“Mm,” she hums. “I must admit, I didn't peg you as the get-to-know-me-in-the-early-morning type. Thought you’d be content just charming me with your guitar for the rest of eternity.”

“Well,” he passes the cigarette back to her, pushing his digits against her own in the process. “I’m not, really, but we’ve talked about our favorite songs all night and you’re our opener for the rest of this tour, so why not?”

She takes a drag off the cigarette. “I’m not the opener for the rest of the tour.”

“No?” he asks.

“No,” she shakes her head. “This was a favor, I think. A very kind one.”

He looks out in front of him, falling into silence. Thinking. Then he says, “I think I’m in the position to call in some favors right now if you’d liked to be. The opener, I mean.”

She lets the smoke out from the side of her mouth, which has risen up into a wide grin. “Javier from Laredo, I think I could kiss you right now.”

He takes the cigarette back from her fingers, offering her his own grin. “I think I’d like that,” Javi says, tone soft. Genuine.

She swings her legs over the side of her lawn chair, and holds herself up just far enough to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He turns though, not entirely on purpose, she thinks, and their noses brush against one another. She rises from her seat when he leans down and fills the space between them, resting against his own chair as his lips move against her own.

No tongue, though. He pulls back after a few seconds, brown eyes full of warmth. She’s surprised by the amount of control he has over himself. Surprised that he wants to use it, too.

“I better go check on my sister,” she breathes out, resting her hand over his chest.

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll see you in the next city, Anita.”

“Yeah,” she smiles.

“Look for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she promises.

She likes this man and his tight jeans, she’s decided. Likes him a lot.

EVERYTHING : @astroboots , @frannyzooey , @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @honestly-shite , @over300books , @elegantduckturtle, @pbeatriz , @pretty-brown-eyess , @brcwneyes , @chronic-nosebleed

JAVI : @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @walt-breslin , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @hb8301 , @penajavier , @darnitdraco , @over300books , @dobbyjen , @paperbag33 , @rebel-fanfare , @p3dr0pasca1lov3r247

TINY DANCER : @itssmashedavo (just because i thought this might interest you)

#javier peña x female oc #javier pena x female oc #narocs fic #narcos #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal fanfic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #javier peña #javier pena

37 notes · View notes

caterpellas · 4 years

Text

munich nights • harry styles 2

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (thigh riding, oral f receiving, girl on top n i think that’s it)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut, it’s the works y’all

pt 2/3 (one is here) word count: 6k

a/n: this is the penultimate bit now :) i’m actually super nervous to post this lol i’m a mess anyway pls enjoy

chapter 2 playlist

you couldn’t lie, you cried yourself to sleep that night, with a movie you sort of cared about playing in the background. harry didn’t love you, and what used to be the strongest friendship in mankind had now crumbled apart and returned to a state of distant nothingness. harry didn’t love you. he didn’t have to say those words to you for you to know they were true. the realisation hit you about twenty minutes after harry left like an arrow to your chest, that was so recently covered in his ejaculate. not only were the pair of you virtually inseparable, you worked together as well and you had absolutely no idea what was going to happen now. you felt too ashamed for him and his band members to see you now after last night.

waking up in a damp patch of tears in your double bed, you try your hardest to get on with your day and forget last night. a bath felt appropriate so, just before midday, before you’d even greeted your friends yet, you ran one. the tub itself was freestanding and as deep as your head when you sat in it, the victorian taps centred in the middle. it was definitely the nicest bath you’d had in your life. you stripped off last nights clothes that you had shamelessly fallen asleep in and hoped to god the hot water of your bath would erase the images of last night, but the feeling of harry’s touch burned hotter then any water.

almost an hour later, milo, your drummer, knocked on the door of the bathroom you were still in.

“y/n? you in there? we haven’t seen you since last night before you and harry left. is everything okay?” milo’s voice reached you through the oak walls. you wanted to tell him that nothing was okay, and that you’re most important relationship ceased to exist but you couldn’t bare to tell anyone else, especially your friend and bandmate of 5 years.

“i’m all good, i’ll be out soon.” you make it downstairs another half an hour later, the need for a cup of tea driving you to the kitchen. as you reached the breakfast bar right next to the kitchen, you saw the sickening mop of brown curls that you were hoping to avoid. he turns to face you at the sound of your slippers against the tiled floor.

but instead of plain ignorance, a much more unexpected reaction finds its way to harry as he greets you, “y/n! we were beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

you stood in bewilderment at harry’s attempt at a joke, wondering why he was trying you like all of last night never happened to either of you. but you picked this over cold silence so went along with it, “yeah sorry i needed to recover from the jet lag yesterday.”

it was sort of true, you were feeling the time difference and were grateful to be able to rest today. aside from plans to go out this evening, you were all going to rest up at home. which meant being in close quarters with the man you were trying so hard to avoid. making your cup of tea on the old aga kettle, your friends went back to discussing tour details, chatting about last and what was in store for the rest of the trip. you got a feeling their plans for the future weren’t going to be that plain and simple.

by the evening, you had all found yourselves comfortably sat around the fire outside, eating takeout from a german restaurant nearby. it was really good, and although you and harry had barely spoken more than those few words to each other things weren’t as awkward as you were dreading they’d be. usually, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, you and harry would be sat next to one another, your sides touching all the way down whilst you giggled over something harry was telling you.but as it goes, milo and olly sandwiched you between their huge bodies.

“does anyone know the name of the club we’re going to tonight?”

your ears pricked up at the mention of going to a club. you didn’t realise you were going out-out.

“panorama, i think? i put harry’s name on the guest list.”

it occurred to you that you were heavily underdressed for an exclusive nightclub. you had a good feeling they wouldn’t accept your cargo pants and grubby trainers. jumping up from the bench you run to the door, “i need to go change!”

you opted for an ever so slightly classier look and went with a small pleated skirt and a cropped cardigan. not a combo you’d usually wear, it was a little more fitted then you’d choose for yourself but you’d compromise a little to get in the club. you stuck with the dr martens purely for comfort and called it a night there. you loved your style for many reasons, but the most important one was that it was low effort. it took a maximum of 20 minutes to get ready and you took pride in that.

the group had organised to have a limo to share instead of a taxi, so harry was a little more protected from paparazzi and also to fit the size of your party. they were all waiting outside on the drive when you got downstairs and in unison, their heads turned to face you.

sarah grinned at you, “i love it.”

“very cute,” charlotte smiled as well.

you responded with a “cheers” before daring to look at harry. he was wearing a silk shirt and slacks in a baby pink colour. nothing different to harry’s usual attire but the outfit still sent a chill down your spine. well that, and the way he was looking at you. it was dark out but you could still see how electric his green eyes were as they stared directly at you. you’d been caught off guard, harry wasn’t someone you were prepared to connect with again this evening. in fact, you’d convinced yourself that you didn’t even care whether harry was going to be there or not (utter lies of course). but by the way he was looking at you, you knew this wasn’t the end and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

the vip section of ‘panorama’ was plush and teal coloured, with flower garlands and strip lights along the ceiling. you had a lounging area all to yourselves, with big padded benches and cushions. it was luxurious and if you weren’t so highly strung from having harry sat so near by, you’d fall asleep on it. you drunk so many cocktails by this point and your worries seemed to fade away into the loud club music.

“y/n.”

harry was sat next to you, but distantly. he was chatting to mitch before he said your name. no matter how loud the music playing was, you’d still always here his voice. turning to him, you asked, “harry?”

he’s smiling at you, like nothing has changed, “how come you haven’t danced yet this evening?”

it was a good question- you loved to dance more than you loved to perform. harry would always make fun of you, the shimmy you would do when he was playing disco in the studio and the way you always swayed along to fleetwood mac, pretending to be stevie nicks on stage. the reason you weren’t dancing is because you were far too obsessed with the closeness you had achieved with harry in your booth.

“i haven’t quite been feeling it just yet,” you teased back and you felt as though things with harry had gone back to normal, so you dared to ask, “are we good?”

harry’s boyish smile took over his face as he gave you a definite, “yes.”

“well i’m feeling more in the mood now so i’ll see you later,” you get up to exit, smoothing out the pleats in your skirt and struggle to take your eyes away from his. dreaming he’ll follow you, you make your way into the adjacent room filled to the brim with people. the song was bassy, but mellow and you could immediately feel your body moving to it. before you knew it you were almost next to the dj booth, opposite the ceiling high speakers and the song was perfect. you hadn’t felt this relaxed since yesterday’s plane journey and you let your unease pour out of your limbs as they writhed to the music. it took a few minutes to take you out of the trance and realise, although surrounded by a mass of people, you weren’t alone.

a tall figure was behind you, and without turning you knew who it was. you could smell his cologne easily- it was gucci of course and it was heavenly. not even daring to turn to him, you stayed facing away, afraid of what it meant to have him in your view. his hands, large and firm, gripped your shoulders, like he did twice yesterday, and his hot breath was against your neck.

“can i join you?”

the question itself was said innocently, this wasn’t the first time harry had asked to dance with you, and probably wasn’t the last, but it felt different to you now. god how you missed the simplicity of harry being unattainably yours as a friend. finally bracing yourself to meet his eyes from almost a foot above you, you spun, his arms falling from your shoulders to your forearms.

smiling up at the familiar face of the love of your life, you said into his ear, “of course you can dance with me.”

dancing with harry was nothing sexy or erotic but it was the most intimate you’d ever been with him, before last night. harry loved to dance almost as much as you and the best part of his whole personality was nothing other than his devil-may-care disposition. it reminded you of the times he’d twirl you while you were stood somewhere completely out of the blue, or when he’d snap his fingers along to a song and by the time you’d joined in the two of you had broken out into a full dance routine just for the sheer fun of it.

harry grabbed your small, clammy hands and pulled you into him, and then straight back out as wild cherry played through the speakers and you inaudibly laughed at his initial dance moves.

“is that all you’ve got styles?” you smirked at him before laughing at the ridiculous version of the hustle he was trying to pull off. he looked way better than you’d ever want to declare, looking fresh out of the 70s whilst funk music played to his dance moves. it suited him down to a fine art and the song was tailor made for his steps. your hips circled to the song and you remembered just how much you love it. pulling out some more unconventional dance moves you went for the peace signs over your eyes and harry’s head fell back in laughter whilst watching you.

this was it. the perfect moment you were so afraid of losing with him. you understood now that whatever yours and harry’s union was, it was far stronger than you ever gave it credit for. harry and you were back to normal again and instead of last night’s beer goggles making you far more candid then you’d like, now your feelings were crystal clear. harry was all you’d ever want.

as boney m. began to fade in now harry’s dancing had become more intense and now the pair of you were far closer then you’d ever danced together before. one of his hands made a brave attempt at looping around your waist and spinning you, making your skirt flare up in the process. usually you’d be shy and care, but only harry was paying attention to you and the thought of him have a small peak at what was under your skirt didn’t even slightly bother you. one of your arms clutches his lean bicep and you moved in unison together, only inches away from one another now.

“i love watching you dance,” harry whisper-shouted in your ear. unprepared for that statement, you stare into his eyes as they flashed in the colours of the lights. his gaze is unfocused, undecided on if it will look into your own or watch your lips, dampened from the small lick you gave them. his own lips were distracting you as well, the bottom one pulled in by his teeth, a habit he picked up when he was feeling conflicted. you wished he wasn’t such a hard man to read. the only definite you held onto right now was that he wanted to kiss you, reaffirmed when his eyes closed and his head ducked to meet your own.

“harry,” you place a hand on his exposed chest, “i can’t kiss you.”

he knew why. he knew that it crossed the boundary you weren’t meant to cross again. but much like you that didn’t want to stop him. so, despite himself, harry ignored your remark and hesitantly placed his lips on yours. the feeling of his kiss muted the sounds around you and in desperation you urged him to kiss you harder. no matter the height difference between the two of you, harry and you still felt perfectly matched. harry’s hands came into your tangled hair and gripped at the top of your neck, his lips even firmer against yours at the new angle. this was far more passionate then last night, and you were seeing harry in a whole new light. he wasn’t just your friend, an unrequited love and now a one time sexual partner but something more on par with your own emotions. harry’s zealous kiss seemed to correspond with all the feelings you had never spoken about him. but then he pulled away, leaving you empty again. you frowned at him, “why did you stop?”

he simply smiled back at you, soothing your nerves, and took your hand as he pulled you through the crowds to a curtained doorway. the room he took you to was a semi circle, the wall surrounded by a settee, and the floor was carpeted and plush with cushions and blankets. it reminded you of a harem, which made you question harry’s choice of destination. it was far quieter in here, the music now a dull bass in the background.

“why are we in here?” you looked over to harry who had already taken a seat on the sofa.

“i thought you’d want more privacy,” he grinned at you. harry’s attitude towards the whole thing was starting to irritate you instead now. why was he acting like this whole thing was so casual? did it not affect him like it did you?

“you’re kidding right? what even is this?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms across your chest. you were pissed.

harry’s brows creased in confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“what’s the matter? how can you ask me that? things are different now harry and you know it.”

he knew it. he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you that he’d wanted things to be this way for the past 2 years. it’s why he was constantly cracking jokes or messing around with you, making you smile and laugh brought him more joy then anything else in his life. it’s why he was so overwhelmed by white hot jealousy when he saw your mouth around that arsehole sound tech’s dick.

“jesus, y/n we’re friends aren’t we? why do we have to talk about that anyway, we’re having fun.”

“because harry,” you huff at him, “unlike you my feelings are a little bruised from last nights events.”

his eyes momentarily filled with guilt, “i know that was- not decent of me.”

“uh you think? i love you harry but you’re not pulling this crap on me again,” you tried to sound stern but his eyes melted you. you looked away but his hand reached for yours. this was it though. your temper had gotten the better of you and you were ready to leave him here and say goodbye to any relationship you formerly had with him. if he did anything again to you like he did last night you were sure your dignity would crumble into unfixable pieces. sighing, you finish off by telling him, “i can’t do this anymore harry.”

“i don’t want to lose you,” harry’s eyes were filled with pleading.

“you should have thought about that before i put your cock in my mouth,” you snapped at him. you hated to admit that saying out loud what you and harry had done had turned you on immensely. harry’s pupils dilated in synchronisation with yours. he played right into this.

“so you’d never do it again?” why was he asking you this?

“no. i wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing what he did to you anymore. even though the sight of him with his half buttoned silk shirt, damp with sweat as he lounged on the settee, his high waisted trousers spread apart along his long legs made your legs feel like mush. your voice was so convincing that harry’s face fell and in an instant you wanted to eat your words.

“y/n, i’m sorry if i overstepped,” he stood up and wiped his hands on his trousers, “do you wanna just go back to being friends?”

there was only one right answer to that question;

“fuck no.”

you jumped harry then and there and he fell back onto the padded seat, hands strongly gripping your waist. you quickly kissed him and in shock you retreated, your eyes locking, before connecting your lips with him again. his hands move south to your hips and then to your buttocks, giving your scantily clad cheeks a squeeze. you knew from a past discussion harry was an ass man, after a few drinks together one night you were talking about likes and dislikes. it reminded you of one preference in particular. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tugged it gently and an audible moan fell in between his lips against yours.

“fuck, y/n do that again,” he mumbled into your mouth and you responded with another pull on his curls. his hips jerked up to meet the middle of your legs and between the thin material of his trousers and nothing covering your crotch other then the thin material of your underwear, little was left to the imagination. you could feel harry’s erection growing the more your hand tangled into his hair. your bare thighs clutched tightly by harry’s hands and you could tell they were longing to hold your bare ass. with your other hand on harry’s bicep, you moved it down to his hand and guided it up along your cheek and he hummed in satisfaction.

“hey harry,” you spoke into the kiss, “you remember california?”

how could he forget- you had spent the whole day drinking on the beach and that was where you had confessed about all your likes and dislikes, giggling like little kids the whole time. who knew that several months later that secret information would become so beneficial?

“what about it?” he asked as your lips traced down his neck to his chest.

“do you remember what i told you?”

a switch flipped in harry’s head and he suddenly knew what you wanted. his thigh came between your legs and you put your weight onto it eagerly, and his hands rocked you back and forth on the cotton of his slacks. the friction was exactly what you needed and you had never been more thankful that harry had listened so intently to your confession; you loved dry humping.

harry’s gaze was on you as you continued to grind on him, and the sight was enough to turn him from semi to fully hard.

“does that feel good?” harry asked you and you were too shy to answer him, only whimpering in response, “tell me y/n.”

“it feels so good harry,” you moaned out. your pace had begun to quick as you needily searched for your release. you could feel your wetness seeping into the material against his thigh and a faint squelching noise could be heard underneath your mewls of satisfaction. your hand fell across the bridge of his nose, outlining his sharp cheekbone and rest along his neck, licking his lips as he watches you get yourself off on him.

on a normal occasion, you’d be too embarrassed to ever ride someone’s thigh, it made you the centre of their attention and that frightened you. but knowing that harry’s undivided recognition was different. you loved having his hands and eyes all over your body. not that he knew, but it was his after all. if he wanted it to, it could belong to him.

“harry,” you gasped, “i’m going to cum.”

to know he was about to witness your undoing just like you’d seen his thrilled him.

“cum for me y/n,” harry pushed your hips for you, gripping the flesh of your ass, and rolling you back and forth till you let out a sob as you came all over his thigh. your forehead fell onto harry’s shoulder as you recollected yourself. that was the first time you had ever cum just from humping. and it was on harry’s leg. the familiar blush crept up your arms to your neck and cheeks and you couldn’t bare to lift your head off of harry’s shoulder.

“y/n,” harry’s voice gently interrupted, “not to rush you or anything but my trousers really are soaked.”

his fingers slid down your thighs to help you off of his leg, your own like that of a baby deer. you weren’t expecting harry to unbuckle his belt and slip his trousers off his legs, the thick wet patch taking up a lot of the fabric.

“what are you doing?”

“well you don’t expect me to keep them on do you?”

“i sort of thought you’d just leave again.”

harry’s face flushed in shame, “i am really sorry i did that last time, y/n. it was a dick move.”

“just a little,” you give him a half smile to let him know you couldn’t stay mad at him. stood in awkward silence, your panties dripping with your cum and harry in nothing but a shirt and boxers, you didn’t know what to say. it wasn’t common that you’d find an uncomfortable lack of words to say to harry.

finally, after one too many moments in silence, harry beckoned you with his finger, “c’mere.”

suddenly you found yourself snugly wrapped in his arms, your cheek to his chest as he held you.

“harry i-“

“don’t just yet please.”

so you stayed that way for a little longer. you realised that this could be the last chance you hold him like this, so you mentally noted every last thing about him you loved. his smell, typically of gucci, but underneath the artificial scent a more clean, personal one of clean bedding and shampoo. his arms, and how their length seemed to engulf you better than any of the softest, plushest bedding in existence. his lips that you could feel on the top of your head and how the feeling of them on your own was tattooed to you now. you knew that if you ever kissed anyone in the future it couldn’t penetrate the lasting layer of his.

he pulled away from you a few moments later, looking down over you. searching his eyes for any clues to his own thoughts from under your lashes, you found nothing. it didn’t mean you were expecting what came next.

as you started, “i understand if you don’t want to do this anymo-“

“i love you.”

the words hung in the air in stunned silence, and you were in too much of a state of shock to know how to take them. he loved you? was he saying the way he always did or did he mean he loved you the way you loved him?

“harry you don’t mean that you.. does that mean you, like, love-me-love-me?” you sounded like a teenager, your juvenile question was all you could muster up.

“i’ve always loved you y/n,”

“i know you have bu-“

“will you just let me finish please?” his fingers pressed against your lips to silence you, “you always talk without actually listening. let me a second please.

“i realised that you’ve never been my friend. don’t interrupt. you were never my friend because you were always like way more than that. friend seemed too small a word for us, you know? and then that day after i saw you and that shitty sound tech fucking in your room i was so angry and jealous and then i realised how much i wanted to be in his place. but you and me had already had such a good relationship i was worried i would ruin it by changing our dynamic. then on the night i met camila, you were so distant from me. i was upset and camila was into me so i was going to fuck her, but i couldn’t. i haven’t had sex with anyone since i saw you and-“

“his name was josh.”

“y/n i really couldn’t give a fuck what his name was. but anyway last night that prick wouldn’t leave you alone and i had to do something, and i wasn’t planning on taking things where they went but by the time you’d brought up my tattoos i was in too deep. i hate that i left you last night. i wanted to say all of this then, but i was too scared. so i left and hoped things would go back to normal between us. but our normal is nothing compared to what we had last night.”

overwhelmed, you sat down on the settee, leaning back to accommodate all of this information.

“so you want to be with me?” you asked him, still not believing it for yourself.

harry beamed at you, “i know, crazy right?”

“i just- i,” you stuttered over your lack of words.

“you don’t have to feel the same why i just figured it was best to be honest.”

you couldn’t help it, but you snorted at him, “you’re kidding right? i have not wanted anything more in my entire life.“

harry knelt down in front of you, and from this height you to were level. you could see eye to eye as equals now. his lips came to your forehead and softly kissed you there, your eyes fluttering closed. it was contentment to know he was finally yours. moving even closer to you, harry moved your legs aside and came between them and you had to prevent him from getting too close so your still-damp panties didn’t come into contact with his expensive shirt.

“you know,” you could feel harry’s lips turn upwards into a smirk on your forehead, “this means you don’t have to feel quite as worried about me fucking you anymore. i’m yours now, y/n.”

he lowered onto the back of his heals, taking his head to the level of your breasts, and he moved back a bit to take in the sight of you. you had to have been a mess, your black eyeliner probably smudged and your hair knotted around your head. your legs were still wide apart, giving harry the greatest opportunity to see under your little tartan skirt.

his pupils widen at the sight, “i can’t believe i’ve never seen you in a skirt like this before. you look so cute in it. it gives me great opportunity to do this,” his hands slid up your thighs slowly and surely, eventually coming down so that they were on the inside of your legs, just before your crotch. you were at his mercy at this angle, and he used it to his advantage. his long fingers brushed up against your clothed core and you whimpered at the sensitivity.

“are you still sore from earlier?”

you nodded and swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. his fingers moved up towards your hips, bumping your clit in the process and grabbed the sides of your tight underwear. pulling them down your legs, he got to see your pussy for the very first time. mouth practically salivating at the sight of your already wet lips, he began kissing along the insides of your legs, working inwards from the knee. he stopped at the edge of your thighs, teasing you with no touch. you hips were writhing at the need for contact and he pinned your thighs down, restricting you.

“i want to undress you first.”

his nimble fingers make quick work of the tiny buttons on your cardigan and it only just occurred to you that you’re not wearing a bra underneath. your bare sternum is exposed and you can tell harry is surprised to find you completely naked behind the cardi. slipping it off your shoulders, your perky breasts are finally unleashed for harry’s viewing.

“we never fucked,” you blurred out.

“what do you mean?”

“me and josh never had sex. i haven’t actually had sex in about two years.”

harry’s jaw sunk slightly at your confession, “but- how haven’t you?”

you felt embarrassed by this. no one ever compared to harry so why would you waste your time on them? you mostly only fooled around with josh because you needed a distraction from harry’s constant sex appeal.

“well josh and me never actually got around to it since he left the crew and aside from him there hasn’t been anyone else.”

you couldn’t believe you were saying this to him right after he’d undressed you, the air con hardening your nipples. harry couldn’t really concentrate on what you were saying, especially when his name was mentioned and your breasts were on full display to him. ignoring your rambling, harry’s mouth came down onto your right nipple, circling it with his tongue and ending your words with a gasp. your nipples were more sensitive then you’d initially realised, or maybe it was just because it was harry’s mouth encapsulating them, but the sensation felt like enough to make you cum from that alone.

“harry, i,” you sighed out breathily. sentences weren’t able to be formed presently, it was all too much. not for harry though, who had no qualms about saying, “i want to fuck you in nothing but that little skirt.”

you tried to press your thighs together, his words jolted down to your clit and you needed some kind of release. harry’s mouth went back to your boobs and down the valley in the middle, licking down it, to your pierced belly button and finally his head disappeared under your skirt. you instinctively placed your feet up on either side of the sofa to spread your pussy even further for his access.

his tongue mercilessly licked up from your taint to your clit and you bucked in delight. the muscle of his tongue pressed hard against the sensitive ball of nerves in quick movements, lapping at it rhythmically. you couldn’t control the volume of your moans now, cussing incoherently to him. but it wasn’t enough, you needed harry fully.

pulling his hair, you were so close to cumming but you couldn’t let it happen yet, not till he’d been inside you.

“harry stop,” you manage to get out, “i need you in me.”

he drew back as soon as you spoke and you leant forward to unbutton his shirt, but you lost your balance as you go forward, falling on top of him onto the cushioned floor. you both burst into giggles at your clumsiness, it was something that you joked about a lot together. you hadn’t loved anyone more then you loved harry right now, his chuckles like music to your ears as you lay on him nearly naked, his curls sat on his forehead.

“i love you,” harry told you, his hand cupping your cheek from below.

“i love you too,” leaning to kiss him, you moved your hand down and gripped his erection, forcing a moan from his lips, “now make love to me.”

he wasted no time in finishing off unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, and you ground your hips into his erection, forcing a groan from his lips. you were so close to feeling harry inside you, only boxers in the way of you two. you sat back and slipped them off his hips. before you got a chance to line him up with your walls, harry interrupted you, “are you in birth control?”

“yes,” you blushed. he smirked at you as he grabbed his hard cock in his hand and positioned it with you. you sunk down ont his cock, sighing is feel yourself being filled. you had craved this feeling for far too long, and harry filled you so well.

“fuck, y/n,” harry’s eyes closed when you engulfed him fully. adjusting, you began to bob up and down on his dick slowly, getting used to the foreign sensation. it stung a little bit as you hadn’t been filled in so long, but the need for harry numbed any of the pain. harry’s sweaty hands came up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples as you began to quicken your pace.

“how do i feel inside you? does it feel good?”

you could only nod back, his cock hitting your g spot so well from this angle. as you began to speed up, your tits bounced delectably in front of harry’s face and he had to take over dominance, slamming his hips up to meet your own. his erection pounded into you, your mouth eliciting depraved whines. your skirt was swinging around your barely clothed ass and giving harry only sneaky glimpses of how the two of you were connected.

with harry’s hips moving more erratically, you could tell he was close.

you leant your mouth into his ear to whisper, “i want you to cum inside me.”

that was enough to tip harry over the edge, and so you could both finish together he reached his thumb under your skirt and thumbed your clit, sending your body into a heavenly orgasm. harry unloaded into your walls as you clenched around him, the both of you finishing in unison. flopping down onto his chest, he left his cock in you, both too fucked out to move yet. when he had softened, he slipped out of you, making you wince at the feeling.

“so,” you said into harry’s chest, “does that mean you’re mine now?”

his hand rubbed the small of your back, “i’m yours.”

#i’m sorry #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry style fan fiction #harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction smut #bestfriend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles icons #harry styles fic #fine line album #friends to lovers

439 notes · View notes

wayward-dreamer · 3 years

Text

Life’s Lessons - Part 7

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Denying Feelings

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader (eventual)

Other Pairings: Dean x Lisa, Female!Reader x OMC – Ethan (past, mentioned), Female!Reader x OMC – Mark

Word Count: 7,423 (texts, thoughts, song lyrics in italics).

Part Summary: Dean learns the truth about what Lisa’s hiding, and makes a decision. Later, Y/N goes on a date with Mark, knowing she needs to move on. However, after a failed attempt to move things to the next level with Mark, she begins to question whether she should be denying her feelings for Dean.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Insecurities, Denying Feelings, Jealous Dean, Pre-smut (nothing too graphic yet, pretty much ends before it starts)

Music: Never Going Back Again by Fleetwood Mac (doesn’t feature but listen to it after Dean and Lisa scene, Dean on the couch scene), In These Arms by Bon Jovi (Dean bar scene), Waiting For A Girl Like You by Foreigner (Y/N and Mark end scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful comments, and for getting me to 300 followers! It means so much to me! All your love for this series has absolutely made my heart so happy, and I can’t wait for you guys to see what happens as we move forward! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dean stared at Lisa, his eyes glaring as his jaw clenched. He was waiting for her to say something about what he could clearly see on her phone. He had really hoped that making the effort was going to pay off, and that they could finally be happy again. He thought about how he had doubted her in the past, over a year ago, when she had gone back to Indiana for a couple of weeks. She came back completely disinterested in him and their relationship.

They had fought a lot about whether she had slept with someone else. She had denied it and he had chosen to believe her, even if he did have his doubts about it. Since then, is when things turned for the worst. He thought he had judged her too quickly. Maybe nothing had actually happened.

Turns out, he had been right all along.

Lisa shook her head, not being able to say anything. Dean could tell from her expression that she was trying to find a way to say something.

“I don’t know what to say-” she started but he cut her off.

“Don’t” he hissed, as he leaned in so no one would hear their conversation. “I’m only gonna ask this one more time, and you better give me a straight answer.”

When she didn’t say anything, he continued.

“Did you sleep with someone else?” he asked, bluntly. He had asked that very question a year before, when she got back from Indiana. He never got a proper answer from her.

Lisa was quiet as she sat across from him. She looked up at him, and he saw sadness in her eyes for the first time in a long time.

“Yes” she whispered.

He nodded as he stared at her. He huffed a laugh and it bubbled into a bitter tone. “Who’s the guy?”

She took another few moments to say anything. “His name’s Matt. He’s a doctor.”

“Oh, Doctor Matt. How respectable” he snapped.

She looked guilty as she dropped her head, avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry you found out like this” she said, quietly, but Dean heard her.

“Why did you keep this going for another year? Why didn’t you just answer me when I asked? This could’ve all been over then, and we could’ve forgotten about each other” Dean asked, shaking his head.

“Because… Ben really looks up to you, and I wanted a father figure for him” she replied, as she looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

Dean shook his head, confused. “But what? Suddenly I’m not good enough? You want some doctor for him to look up to instead now?”

“Matt and I fell for each other years ago, but it didn’t go far, and then I was there last year… we started things up again, and when he was here in July-” she rambled, trying to explain but Dean cut her off when something occurred to him.

“He was here?” he asked, as he stared at her.

She only nodded.

“That’s why we stopped having sex.” He didn’t need to ask because it was obvious why.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

“So… when should we tell Ben?” she asked, quietly.

“I’m gonna leave that to you” he replied, shaking his head. “But when you decide to leave… you’re gonna let me say goodbye to him. You owe me that much.”

He looked at her as he waited for a reply. She nodded as she continued to stare at him.

“Dean-” she started but he cut her off.

“Save it” he growled; his jaw clenched. “It’s done.”

She nodded and didn’t say anything else, as Ben returned to the table unaware of what had just occurred.

As they went about like nothing had just happened, Dean couldn’t help but think that maybe he didn’t deserve to be angry. After all, he had kissed Y/N and it had made him feel awful for doing that to Lisa, despite the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about his beautiful neighbor. So, did he have the right to be angry with Lisa when he had done that? He came to the conclusion pretty quickly. Yes, he did have the right. Lisa had lied to him for a year, she had slept around with that guy behind his back and didn’t seem to regret it at all. Her sadness came more from the fact that Dean had found out. It wasn’t “I’m sorry I did this to you” it was “I’m sorry you found out like this”.

So, yes. He did deserve to be angry and to be the one to end the relationship.

When they got back home, Lisa went into Ben’s room to break the news. Dean wasn’t sure what she told him, about whether or not she said she had met someone else or not. Quite frankly, he didn’t care. He kicked back on the couch with a beer, some re-runs of M.A.S.H. on the TV keeping him entertained. He heard some yelling from Ben and then a door slam, and then another one close a bit more gently. Dean would eventually go in and see how Ben was taking the news but for now… he was taking a moment for himself.

For the first time in a long, long time, he felt lighter. He felt better, and in a weird way, as much as it hurt to hear that Lisa had cheated on him, he was relieved. He finally got the answer to his question, and now… he could finally move on. He could concentrate on his business, be available to his family more, and just be himself without worrying what Lisa would say. All the constant fighting or ignoring each other and pretending to be civil was over. He had been down the road with her several times in the last couple of years, the road of things being fine and then not fine, but he was never going back to that again.

He was looking forward to living his life the way he wanted again.

Over the next week, Y/N and Mark texted back and forth. There were messages about their days, what they had for lunch or dinner, silly jokes and flirty comments. Y/N liked him enough, but she hoped that he did ask her out so that she could get to know him more.

Mark: I can’t beat around the bush anymore. I really want to take you out. Saturday night, 7pm?

Y/N had agreed instantly and tried to protest when he said he would drive to Lawrence and have their date there, but he insisted. She wanted to avoid anyone seeing them, or even possibly running into Dean, but she supposed she couldn’t ignore that fact. She just hoped she could avoid him, though.

The restaurant buzzed with sounds of chatter from patrons and the soft jazz music playing through the speakers. Mark sat across from her, dressed in black jeans and deep green v-neck sweater, while she had adorned a silk navy blue strappy top, with black jeans and her long fawn coat, that was hanging off the back of her chair.

“This place is great” he said, as he looked around the room.

“Yeah, the food’s really good and the drinks are even better” she said, as took a forkful of her meal. It was the same place she had come to with Charlie for drinks. She loved the vibe there.

“So… what’s 8th grade teaching like?” he asked her.

She laughed a little, putting her fork down. “Challenging. It’s an interesting age for kids, they don’t really want to be told what to do but they know they have to. It’s rewarding though, especially when their faces light up because they’ve done well on a test or homework.”

“I suppose it helps they have a teacher as passionate as you” he complemented her.

It was nice of him to say that but somehow when Dean had some similar words to her, it was easier to believe him.

“Thanks” she said, accepting the complement with a smile. She needed to give him a chance.

“I gotta ask though. You said you’re from upstate New York. Why such a big move to Lawrence, Kansas? Of all places” he inquired with a laugh.

She smiled slightly, her muscles not committing to a genuine one. It was touchy subject, something that she couldn’t tell him just yet. She had told Dean, which she never expected to do so soon into their friendship, but she had trusted him. He made her feel safe to tell him, even in such a short time. It wasn’t going to be the same with Mark.

“I just needed a change, a new experience” she replied, not even remotely divulging the real reason.

“Fair enough” he nodded, taking a sip of his wine.

“What about you?” she asked, changing the subject. “What’s a day in advertising like?”

“Stressful” he huffed. “Not nearly as rewarding as teaching, but there are days when things go well, and you can relax for a small fraction of time. Then it’s just back to the grind, not a whole lot of time to appreciate your achievements.”

“But you love it, right?” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah” he said, simply as he went back to eating.

The rest of their conversation was light-hearted and fun, and Y/N was surprised at how much of a great time she was having with Mark. She thought that wouldn’t happen so soon, but she was glad that it had.

Dean got out of the shower, quickly drying off before getting dressed into jeans and a thicker white Henley, now that the weather was starting to turn. He was going to the bar tonight, with Cas and Benny joining him. It been a week since he and Lisa broke up. The day after it happened, Lisa took Ben and herself and some of their necessities to a hotel. During the week, she had been over a few times to pack up her things. It seemed like it would take a little while longer for her to completely clear her things out, but at least she was doing it while Dean was at work and he wouldn’t have to see her.

Dean drove to the bar, his thumbs drumming against the steering wheel as he listened to his music, loudly. When he arrived at the bar, he ordered a neat double of his favorite whiskey. As he sipped his drink, he frowned as he heard the words to the song that were playing.

You want commitment, and take a look into these eyes.

They burn with fire, yeah, until the end of time.

And I would do anything, I’d beg, I’d steal

I’d die to have you in these arms tonight.

He shook his head as the words hit home to what he was feeling. He may have rocked on occasion, but Dean hated Bon Jovi with a passion in that moment. He was trying not to think about Y/N. Nights out with Lisa had helped, but then something or other would remind him of her and he’d start thinking about her again. Now that things were over with Lisa, however, Y/N had been a constant thought in his mind this past week.

As he was hunched over on the table, he felt a pat on his back. He looked up to see Benny sit down in front of him, Cas not too far behind as he took the chair next to Benny.

“Good to see ya, brother” Benny commented, a big grin on his face.

“You get laid before getting here?” Dean asked, taking in his friend’s expression.

Benny chuckled, as the bartender came over and put a glass of whiskey down in front of him and Cas. “I don’t kiss and tell, Dean.”

Dean shook his head, rolling his eyes with a small smirk. He lifted up his glass as they all clinked theirs together.

“You seem… not grumpy” Cas commented, as he took in the lack of a scowl on Dean’s face.

Dean shrugged. “Things are… I don’t know, better”

“Really?” Cas asked, confused.

“Yeah” Dean nodded, simply. He hadn’t told his friends yet as he wanted to wait to get them to a bar to break the news. “I broke up with Lisa.”

Both Cas and Benny were in shock, their eyes widened. Cas sat forward as he squinted. “Seriously?”

Dean nodded, sipping his whiskey.

“Well… I never thought I’d see the day that happened” Benny said, shaking his head, with a smile on her face.

“Hilarious” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“And you’re really… okay?” Cas asked, concerned.

“Yeah, man. I really am. I probably should feel worse, and I do, considering Ben was pretty upset. When it comes to Lisa, though… yeah. I’m good” Dean replied, truthfully.

“What happened?” Benny asked, curiously.

“Turns out, I was right. She cheated on me with some guy she used to know, when she went back to Indiana last year” Dean replied, staring down at the table.

“Damn” Benny whispered, shaking his head.

“Yeah” Dean agreed, sipping his drink. “Her phone was in front of me and I saw his messages. So… I ended it.”

“Good for you, brother” Benny said, clinking his glass with Dean’s.

Cas did the same with his glass against Dean’s.

“So, what now?” Cas asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know” Dean shrugged, as one side of his mouth lifted up into a half smirk. “Something different, I guess.”

“What was that?” Benny asked, eying him suspiciously.

“Nothing” Dean replied, his eyebrows furrowed.

Cas leaned back in his chair, silently questioning Dean. “Does this have something to do with Y/N?” Cas asked, something occurring to him suddenly.

“No” Dean said, too quickly.

“Oh, it so does” Benny laughed slightly.

Dean looked between his friends, not knowing whether he should say anything or not. He hung his head, giving up the pretence.

“Yeah, it does” he said, his voice low but they heard him anyway.

“I should’ve known something was up when you were both making eyes at each other at the garage” Benny said, smiling wide.

“Nothing’s up, okay? Nothing happened” Dean lied yet again.

“That didn’t sound true, did it?” Cas asked Benny, knowing their friend well.

“Nope” Benny replied, popping the ‘p’.

They looked at him and he couldn’t deal with their knowing stares.

“Fine” Dean sighed, exasperated. “We kissed.”

“Dean” Cas groaned.

Benny let out a long whistle. “Damn, brother.”

“Yeah, I know, I know what you’re gonna say. It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have done it, I know I shouldn’t have. Okay?” Dean grumbled. “It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Do you like her?” Cas asked, genuinely wanting to know. He knew what his friend was like before he met Lisa, and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t reverting back to his old ways.

“Fuck, this is like high school” Dean mumbled, sipping his drink. “Yeah, I do. I like her. I mean, it’s more than that… I’m really falling for her.”

“And you haven’t told Lisa?” Cas asked, sitting forward in his chair.

Dean rolled his eyes and glared at him. “Well, I don’t think I have to now considering we’re not together and she actually cheated on me. This was just a moment of weakness.”

Cas nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Hey.” Dean leaned forward in his chair as he looked at both of them. “It was a mistake, the way it happened. I know that. Y/N said that she wouldn’t let it go any further as long as Lisa and I were together, and I agreed with her.”

“No wonder you two haven’t spoken in weeks” Cas muttered.

“Yeah” Dean scoffed, nodding. “It’s just… now that Lisa and I are over, I don’t know, but – maybe now I got a shot with Y/N.”

“Maybe” Benny said, a small smile on his face.

Dean looked at Cas and thought about whether or not he should ask about Y/N, but he needed to know.

“How… how is she?” he tried to ask as casually as possible.

“She looked pretty sad for a while. I guess we know a little about why now. She’s been better in the last week, though. She’s uh…” Cas replied, but he didn’t know how to broach the next subject.

“She’s what?” Dean was concerned as he asked the question.

“Y/N’s on a date. Some guy she met in the city when she went out with Meg and Charlie last weekend. It’s their first date tonight” Cas told him.

Dean’s jaw clenched as he looked down at the table. “Who’s the guy?” He looked up at Cas, his expression hard and distant.

“Mark something, I don’t know who he is. She seemed excited about tonight though” Cas replied, trying to gage some kind of reaction from Dean.

Dean huffed as he looked down at the table. She was on a date with some guy. Mark. She was moving on from him, and while Dean wanted to find the guy and tell him that he couldn’t have her, he knew she was right in moving on. She wasn’t anything to him for him to get protective of her. Maybe Mark was a nice guy and after what she had been through, she deserved a nice guy.

“Well…” he sighed, throwing his head back as he finished his drink. “Good for her.”

Benny knew that look on his friend’s face. “You alright there, brother?”

“Oh yeah” Dean replied, twirling his glass around in his hand.

“Dean-” Cas started but Dean cut him off with a glare.

“I’m gonna head back” he muttered, standing up from the table. He dropped a few bills on the table, before picking up his jacket.

“Thanks for tonight, fellas.” Dean walked away, without looking at his friends.

When he got back home, he poured himself another whiskey and sat down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He kept thinking about how life would’ve been if Y/N hadn’t moved across the street. He may never have realized that he and Lisa were in a meaningless relationship, and probably would’ve kept going the way they had been for many more years.

Y/N encouraged him to go ahead with his plans for expanding the garage, a move he was scared to make, but he couldn’t wait to get started on that. She talked to him about all his likes and dislikes, listened when he talked about his family, and told him that maybe he and his dad still have to work out some things from the past. She trusted him enough to tell him about her previous relationship and what her asshole of an ex did to her. She cared about him and he cared about her. Hell, he was really starting to fall for her, but he had to respect what she wanted. Yes, it was a first date with this guy, and she might not want things to go further, but she deserved to give things a chance without him being a factor. She deserved to be happy.

Dean frowned and lifted his head, as he heard a car from outside, the breaks squeaking softly as it pulled up to the curb. He stood up and slowly walked to the window, his heart sinking when he saw Y/N get out of the car. She was coming back to her house with her date.

Mark drove her home, chatting and changing songs in the car to suit their mutual tastes, which she quickly learnt were quite similar. He wasn’t much for classic rock, but more for the folksy stuff of now. They kept the small talk going as he pulled up outside her house. She quickly got out of the car and walked to her front door as he walked beside her. She turned to him and smiled as they stood outside her door.

“I had a really great time” she smiled. There was definitely promise of more and of better, and she was going to give him the chance.

“Me too” he smiled in return.

He slowly and tentatively leaned in, kissing her cheek, softly. She smiled wider at the sweet gesture.

“Goodnight, Y/N” he whispered as he moved back.

“Goodnight” she said, watching him leave.

As she watched him drive off, she sighed. There was something there, and while she didn’t know what it was, she knew she had to take a leap and find out.

She really needed to call her sister and talk about this with her soon.

Dean watched as the guy leaned in and kissed Y/N’s cheek, very relieved that he hadn’t kissed her on the lips. She looked happy, and that’s what mattered. It was what he wanted for her. Even if he wasn’t the one to do that for her.

2 weeks later…

Dean had come to a conclusion about Mark. He hated the guy.

It had been two weeks since Y/N and Mark’s first date, and in that time, he had seen them together around town quite a few times. They would be talking and laughing, kissing and being happy and honestly, it made him sick. To someone else, it may have looked like he was jealous, and maybe he was a little, but he was mostly concerned for her and hoped that she had made the right decision. It was irrational to hate him based on all of this, considering he had never met the guy, but he couldn’t help how he felt.

The alarm blared obnoxiously, even though Dean had been awake for a few minutes already. He tapped it hard and turned it off, his hand combing through his hair. He got up and dragged himself into bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth and freshening up. He had opted to have a shower when he came back from doing some manual labor.

He got dressed in his worn jeans, dark brown Henley and a brown and white plaid shirt over the top, his black jacket over that and walked through the house. He picked up his wallet and keys and then left, firing up his Baby and driving away from the house, as his music blared. He made a quick stop to pick up three coffees from the coffee shop, and then drove for about 15 minutes, before reaching another street. He drove down, past all the pristine houses, until he came to the one he was looking for.

He looked up at the house as he got out of the car. It had seen better days and he had bought it for a steal a few months ago. With the help of Cas and Benny, he was going to fix it up and make it a home. They would do what they could until builders came in at a later stage and did all the more complicated things like wiring and plumbing.

As he walked into the house, his mind started thinking in overdrive. Throughout his time as a bachelor, he was the love ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy, opting for one-night stands rather than proper relationships. It was fun and easy, but over time he had gotten over that. Cassie was his first serious girlfriend when he was 24, and they dated for 6 weeks. He had cared about her, but they weren’t meant to be. He dated girls and continued his one-night flings for a few years, before he met Lisa. She didn’t end up being just a one-night thing, and he really thought that they would be great for each other.

While being every woman’s “Mr. Right Now”, Dean had always longed for something more, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. He barely admitted it to himself. That being said, he used to have a recurring dream. A beautiful woman in a beautiful house, welcoming him with a passionate kiss as he came home from work. They had three children, 2 boys and a girl. He couldn’t see their faces, as it was a fantasy in his mind that would never come true. When he met Lisa, the woman had morphed into her. However, as they started to have their problems, the woman became faceless again.

Standing there in the house at that moment, images of the dream started to flash before him. The woman had a face again. This time… it was Y/N. He suddenly began to imagine her in this house with him and Dean’s heart began to beat rapidly at the thought. She belonged here. He wanted her here with him. He wanted a life with her. He couldn’t want that. He tried hard to turn the image of Y/N back into a faceless woman, but nothing happened.

He was 34 years old and his little brother had gotten married before him, and would no doubt tell him that they were having kids soon. He loved his brother and sister-in-law, but every time he looked at them it was a reminder of the fact that he may never have that. He never thought he wanted those things, but this recurring dream always told him otherwise.

A slap on his back startled him out of his daydream. Benny walked around him with Cas right behind him.

“You okay, chief?” he asked, picking up the coffee with his name on it.

Dean nodded, blinking a few times. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You sure?” Cas said, concerned when seeing his friend looking slightly out of it.

“Uh… yeah. I, um… just have a few things on my mind” Dean said, looking around the house.

“Well” Benny started, lifting up a sledgehammer. “Nothing like breaking some shit to clear your mind.”

Dean huffed a laugh and took the tool from him, walking over to the nearest wall and getting to work.

Y/N pushed her sunglasses up and pulled her brown checkered coat a little tighter around herself. Despite the sun, there was a chill in the air as brown leaves brushed over the pavement. She sat outside a café, waiting on Charlie and Meg to get there for brunch. It was Sunday and Meg always had them off, so they were taking the opportunity to see each other. Her foot tapped along to the song that came from the café, the leaves making a crunching noise as they caught under her shoe. She smiled when she saw them walking up the sidewalk, both bundled up as well. The fall was in full force and it wasn’t Y/N’s favorite in terms of weather, but she had to admit, it was incredibly beautiful as she admired the leaves changing color.

She sat up a little and kissed them both on their cheeks, as they sat down across from her. She smiled as she watched them settle in.

“I’m starving!” Meg groaned, as she looked at the menu.

“Hello to you, too” Y/N laughed at her dramatics.

“We better order quick before the demon comes out” Charlie joked, earning a side eyed glare from Meg.

Y/N laughed as she called the waitress over and they all ordered, after Charlie and Meg quickly decided what they wanted.

“So, how are things going with Mark?” Meg asked, getting straight to the point.

Y/N shrugged, knowing there wasn’t much to tell. “It’s been a good two weeks. I’m having fun with him. He’s a great guy. We’re seeing each other again tonight, for a movie.”

“That’s so great, Y/N” Charlie beamed. “I’m so glad you’re happy.”

Y/N smiled, nodding. “I am.”

Mark made her laugh and forget about everything that had happened before they met, but at the same time, she was still waiting to feel the sexual chemistry with him.

“He’s coming to your birthday dinner on Friday, right? We gotta meet this guy properly” Meg asked, as the waitress came back with their coffee orders.

“Yeah, he is. So, you can assess him then” Y/N laughed, as she took a sip of her coffee.

Charlie joined in but stopped as she wondered if she should ask Y/N what she wanted to ask at that point. “Have you… have you talked to Dean at all?”

Y/N sighed as she looked at her friend, and then shook her head after a few seconds. “No.”

“You really want to cut off from him completely?” the redhaired woman asked, her face morphing into sadness.

“I think I have to” Y/N replied, as she avoided her friend’s gaze. She knew that if she looked at her, she’d change her mind, and she couldn’t do that.

Charlie bit her lip as she and Meg looked at each other. Meg nodded, and Charlie turned to Y/N.

“What?” Y/N asked, knowing something was up.

“Y/N… Dean and Lisa broke up” Charlie told her.

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes widened. That was the last thing she was expecting Charlie to say. “W-When?”

“A few weeks ago” Meg replied, her fingers tapping against her coffee cup, nervously.

Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “And you’re telling me this now?” She was annoyed that they hadn’t bothered to tell her this for weeks.

“We wanted to, we really did” Charlie reasoned. “But Y/N, things seemed to be going great with Mark, so we thought we shouldn’t.”

Y/N looked between them. She sighed, looking down at the table and fiddling with the cutlery. “I guess you’re right.”

“It’s just that after that night,” Meg started, putting her coffee down after taking a sip. “You seemed pretty ready to move on and let him deal with whatever happened with Lisa.”

A night out with just Meg a little over a week ago, Y/N had told her what had happened with Dean. She was sure that Cas knew from Dean considering they were best friends, but she was glad that he kept it in confidence that he knew and didn’t tell Meg, despite them being a couple.

“Yeah” Y/N nodded, but her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts at that point. “What happened?”

“He found out about her cheating on him” Charlie replied, sadly.

Y/N’s eyes closed as she shook her head. She couldn’t believe it. Her heart was breaking for him, and all she wanted to do was go over to him and see how he was doing.

“Y/N” Charlie said, trying to get her attention.

YN shook her head as she looked at her friend, having spaced out for a few moments.

“You okay?” Charlie asked, knowing that she wasn’t but asking anyway.

“Yeah” Y/N nodded, smiling. It didn’t really convince her friends. “I’m good.”

Y/N was thankful as their food arrived and it distracted them from what they were talking about.

As Meg told them about something that had happened at the hospital recently, Y/N spaced out again. She couldn’t believe that Dean actually broke up with Lisa. Knowing the reason though, she was glad that he finally had, even if finding out she was cheating on him was the most awful thing that could ever happen. Now, Y/N found herself at a dilemma. Dean was suddenly single, and she was with someone. She really liked Mark and she was having a great time with him. She wasn’t about to break up with him just to be with someone else, but her mind kept floating back to her green-eyed neighbor. She told herself it wasn’t a good idea for several reasons.

One, she was with Mark and she was having a wonderful time with him. Two, Dean had just gotten out of the relationship and he needed some time to himself. Three… she was Mark. She couldn’t break his heart just to be with someone else. She really liked him, and he even kept her mind off Dean, sometimes. So, she wasn’t going to do anything about this new information of the breakup.

It was officially time to move on.

Y/N smiled as she walked hand-in-hand with Mark, down the sidewalk. They had just watched a movie and were walking back to the car, Mark insisting on driving her to and from their movie date. The night air was chilly, and they were thankful they were both rugged up; Mark in a long black coat over a white sweater and jeans, Y/N in a thick, high neck grey sweater, jeans and ankle boots. They were walking in content silence, but every now and then Mark would lean in and kiss her head. It had been two weeks for them and while Y/N was happy with where things were with them, she had a feeling that things were going to progress every soon. They had had several make-out sessions on her couch, but they were still yet to do anything else. It might’ve felt like it was too soon, but she really did like him and she felt they were ready to take the next step in their relationship.

As they were walking down the sidewalk, they walked past a few bars and restaurants. Suddenly, Mark’s path was cut off slightly as someone walked out from a bar and onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, sorry, man” Mark said, looking at him.

The guy turned to face them, and Y/N felt her breath stop as she saw Dean. He looked so good, wearing a leather jacket over a red and black plaid and dark blue jeans. Dean looked between her, the guy she was with and their hands joined together. So, this is him he thought as he looked at Mark.

“It’s okay” Dean said back. “Hey, Y/N” Dean said, looking at her.

“Hi, Dean” she tentatively smiled.

“You both know each other?” Mark asked, confused.

“Uh, yeah. Dean’s my neighbor” Y/N said, looking up at Mark. “Dean, this is Mark.”

Y/N watched as an older man walked out of the bar and up to Dean, looking at him.

“Everything okay?” he asked him, as looked at her and Mark.

“Yeah” Dean nodded quickly. “Dad… this is Y/N my neighbor and this is Mike” he said, introducing them.

“It’s Mark” the man in question corrected Dean.

“My mistake” Dean said, trying to give him a polite smile, but it didn’t move far enough on his face to be genuine.

Y/N took a deep breath. This was the moment she had feared most. She decided to ignore it, as she smiled at Dean’s father.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you, sir” she said, offering her hand. “Dean’s told me a lot about you.” She felt Mark looking at her and knew she was going to get a lot of questions later.

“Well, Dean hasn’t told me anything about you, but it’s still great to meet you, as well” John said, shaking her hand as he glanced at his son.

“We should really go” Dean said, looking between the couple and his dad.

“We should too” Y/N said, looking at Mark.

“Great to meet you, man” Mark said, offering his hand to Dean.

Dean looked down at it for a second, before he shook it. “Yeah.”

As they all dispersed, and Y/N walked back to the car with Mark, she was practically hyperventilating at the thought that Mark and Dean had now met. Albeit briefly, but they had. Dean who she had kissed. Dean who she was trying to deny her feelings for but failing miserably.

She was suddenly wishing for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

When they got back to her house and Mark took off his coat while she kicked off her shoes, the content silence they had before meeting Dean, was now awkward. Y/N filled two glasses of water and handed one to Mark, as she waited patiently for him to say what she knew he was thinking.

“So… did something between you and Dean?” he asked, looking up at her from his glass.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because it felt a little-”

She walked over to him, cupping his jaw in her hands. “Mark, nothing ever happened between Dean and I. He was a good neighbor, invited me for dinner one night and told me a little about his family. That’s it.”

She came to the conclusion that he didn’t need to know what really happened. It was before she met him, and it shouldn’t affect them considering she didn’t know him then.

Mark sighed as he looked at her, a small smile appearing on his face. “Okay.”

She smiled and leaned up, kissing him softly. It didn’t take long for Mark to deepen it, as they wrapped their arms around each other.

“Hold on” he said, pulling away from the kiss and taking out his phone, connecting it through Bluetooth to her speaker.

So long, I’ve been looking too hard, I’ve been waiting too long

Sometimes I don’t know what I will find, I only know it’s a matter of time

Y/N laughed a little at the cheesy song choice but smiled up at him as he pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying side to side. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned down, kissing her, passionately. Things began to heat up, as Y/N cupped his face, kissing him firmly. She nipped at his bottom lip and opened her mouth, their tongues meeting. He was a good kisser, even if he wasn’t quite the kisser a certain someone else was. In that moment, however, she didn’t want to think about her gorgeous green-eyed neighbor.

Mark walked them back to the couch, helping her lie down. Y/N looked up at him as she undid her jeans and pushed them down her legs, throwing them on the floor. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust as he lowered himself and wrapped his arms under her, pulling her close. His hands pulled her high collar down as his lips moved down her jaw, nipping and sucking as they landed on her neck. He moved his hips against hers, and she felt herself getting wet from the friction of him getting hard against her panties, through his jeans. He lifted his sweater and took it off, and her hands quickly reached for the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath it. She took it off him and flung it somewhere, both of them not caring. She caressed his arms, his flexed muscles rippling.

Y/N’s cupped his jaw in one hand as she kissed him, the other moving down and rubbing against the seam of his jeans. She felt him growing hard against her hand and she moaned into the kiss.

“You’re sure, right?” he breathlessly asked, going for her neck again.

“Yeah” she gasped, closing her eyes. She quickly pushed him up and sat up, pulling her sweater off, pulling it over her head and off her arms.

Mark stared down at her light pink lacy bra and groaned. “Shit, baby.” He leaned in and kissed her, his hands in her hair.

Y/N started unbuckling his belt and pulled it through the loops, as he fumbled with taking his wallet out of his back pocket. He took out a foil packet and she took it from his hands. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock. He was a reasonable size, and she looked up into his eyes as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, pumping her hand slowly. She leaned back and laid down on the couch, biting her lip as she smiled up at him. He took the packet and tried opening it with one hand, but it fell out of his hand, disappearing somewhere on the couch.

“Oh shit” he whispered, laughing slightly.

“It’s okay, let me see where it is” she said, laughing along with him as she felt around for the foil packet. “If I don’t find it, I’ve started back on the pill, so we should be good.”

It was a moment or two before she found it, lodged under a couch cushion. She waved it with a smile and went to open the packet, but her eyes widened as she looked down at him. His hard on had gone down, becoming flaccid again, in the time that it had taken to find the condom.

Mark noticed her expression and looked down, cursing. “Oh shit, I-I-I uh,” he stuttered.

Y/N tried to calm him down, putting her hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay…”

“No, no, it’s not-” he shook his head, but stopped when she cupped his face, making her look at him.

“Mark” she said, shaking her head. “It’s honestly okay. It happens sometimes. It’s okay. Seriously.”

“Okay.” He nodded as he moved away from her, reached for his boxers and quickly put them on.

“Hey” she whispered, cupping his jaw. “I mean it.”

“Thanks.” He tried to smile but couldn’t. “I should go” he said, disappointed. He avoided her gaze, frowning. He quickly got up and got dressed again.

She walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Look at me.”

He looked at her, still frowning. She leaned in, pecking his lips, softly.

“We’ll try again soon, and it’ll be amazing” she smiled, wagging her eyebrows. “Okay?”

His lips turned up in a small smile as he nodded. “Yeah.”

She kissed him again, a little harder this time, a way to emphasise what she just said.

“Get some sleep” she whispered against his lips. “I’ll see you on Friday, right?”

“Yeah” he said, as he moved away from her.

“Goodnight” she smiled.

“Goodnight” he said, as he picked up his coat and put it on. He walked over to the door and looked back at her. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss, trying to cheer him up.

“Bye” he called out.

She gave him a little wave as he walked through the door, closing it behind him.

Y/N’s mind was racing. Maybe what happened just now was because it hadn’t been very long in their relationship. Maybe they needed longer than 2 weeks to decide how they felt about each other and for the connection to form. It wasn’t his fault, and she knew that; it did happen sometimes.

They would try again. She was determined to try again because she did like him.

Or maybe she needed to stop trying to deny what she felt for the man who lived across the street. Would it be easier to end things with Mark now and move on with Dean? She shook her head, as she really thought it through. She couldn’t break Mark’s heart after what just happened, and Dean had just broken with Lisa recently. She kept coming back to the fact that he needed some time to himself.

She really wanted to make things work with Mark. Tonight didn’t turn out like she thought it would, but she couldn’t let it be a setback.

“So… Y/N” John said, smirking at his son as they walked back to their cars.

“Dad” Dean groaned, shaking his head.

“You failed to mention who she was, so clearly there’s something I’m missing” John smiled, as he dissected the situation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Dean denied as they reached where the Impala and his dad’s truck were parked.

John chuckled as he turned to face his son. “You just denied it which means it’s serious.” John looked at him knowingly.

Dean shook his head as he looked at his father. “It’s nothing.”

Dean knew that admitting it wouldn’t change anything. She was still with him. It wouldn’t make a difference.

“Okay” John said, not believing him. “I’ll get it outta ya eventually. Or Sam will.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Bye, dad.”

“Bye” John said, with another small chuckle.

They hugged and went their separate ways, with a promise from Dean that he’d be over during the week for dinner. As he drove home, his mind was on Y/N again. She was a constant thought and quite frankly, he didn’t think he could take it anymore. If his mind could stop teasing him with thoughts of her while he couldn’t do anything about it, it would make life more tolerable.

As he went to bed that night, he knew that it was too good to be true. He drifted to sleep, his thoughts morphing into dreams of Y/N and the life they could have together.

A life he desperately wanted with her but knew he couldn’t have.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @supraveng @roonyxx @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624

#Life's Lessons #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Supernatural Fanfiction

194 notes · View notes

queenmylovely · 3 years

Note

Hey hope you're well 😊 i think the holiday advent idea is lovely! Id like to request something that just popped into my head if you would like to write it, no worries if not 😊 So I was thinking Queen are doing an album release party which also happens to be on new years eve and you work for a music magazine and have to interview the band members, you're nervous because its Queen and obviously you're a huge fan, and have a crush on rog 😁 and you bump into him before the interview and he has his flirt on but you're trying to stay professional because you know you have to interview him later, and then after the interview (which incldues a few suggestive comments and a bit of teasing) you bump into each other again on the dancefloor just as the clock strikes 12! 😁 sorry if its a bit cheesy but i think you could put your own cool spin on it😁 💕

bonus holiday advent post! since this was nye themed, I figured dec 30th was the perfect day to post it. Anyway, I really liked this and had fun with it so I hope you like it as well! (no warnings, 1.9k)

☆☆☆

Walking into a giant ballroom filled with lights, music, and people, you tried to take it all in and calm yourself with a deep breath. There were quite a few people you recognized and many you didn’t, but none of them would recognize you. This was your first big assignment for your magazine, after your editor had finally seen your worth when you filled in for a sick coworker at a Fleetwood Mac concert a month ago. Now, you were at a release party for Queen’s new album, News of the World, which they had decided to host on New Year’s Eve.

It had been one thing to go to a Fleetwood Mac concert and do a review, but going to a release party and actually interviewing the band was a whole nother level, and you were trying not to freak out. Not only your dignity, but your career, depended on you being able to hold yourself together professionally before, during, and after the interview. All of this was going to be harder as well considering you had a massive crush on the drummer, Roger Taylor. You had yet to see any of the members of the band on your initial survey of the room, a fact that you were glad for, and hoped that you could keep a relative distance until the time of the interview.

As per the directions of your editor, you had gone out and bought a nice outfit for the occasion with the company credit card. You had tucked your press pass into your clutch as soon as you were through the doors in a further effort to fit in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter for the same reason.

Skirting around the edges of the room until you came to a group of high tables without chairs, you stood at one, content to people watch and get a good feel for the energy of the party so that you would be able to convey it well through your writing. Most people’s clothes ranged from cocktail party to black tie, though a couple were wearing something akin to circus performer costumes. This would have been confusing, but you had read and heard lots of far stranger things about parties hosted by rockstars, so you just accepted it.

You had finished your glass of champagne a few minutes ago but had decided not to get another so you could stay alert for the interview when you saw someone walking over to you out of the corner of your eye. Turning to greet them with a smile, your stomach dropped when you realized who it was: Roger Taylor.

“Hi,” you said, hoping you sounded normal while you fell to pieces on the inside.

“Hi,” he said with an easy smile. He held up one of the two champagne flutes in his hands, “Looked like you needed a top up.”

You bit your lip and hesitated for a second, but figured you just wouldn’t drink it all and accepted, clinking your glass with his and taking a sip.

“So, I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, looking you up and down in a way that made your cheeks feel hot. “What’s your name?”

You told him just your first name, in case he knew who was interviewing him later. Even though you were completely flustered, you were going to use this opportunity to see what he was like not during an interview.

“I’m Roger,” he replied.

“I know,” you told him and he smirked, but since it was playful you laughed.

“So do you always stand off to the side alone at parties?” he asked as if he were just curious, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “I like observing.”

“Hmm, I’m more of a partaker, but I’ll give it a try,” Roger said, coming around to the side of the table you were on and standing right next to you, the front of his left shoulder just inches behind your right one. You could practically feel the warmth radiating off of him but took another deep breath in to center yourself.

“So what exactly are you observing?” Roger leaned in to ask, his breath tickling the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Actually,” you said, turning to him quickly so he had to tilt his head back to avoid knocking your heads together. You suppressed a laugh, “You could probably help me out. I was wondering who those people are.”

Roger reluctantly broke eye contact with you to follow where your hand was gesturing, making a sound of understanding when he recognized who they were, “oh yeah, a couple years ago Fred went to some circus afterparty or something and ever since he’s invited whatever circus performers are in town to our parties because ‘we need them to offset all the boring executives.’”

He did a bit of an impression of Freddie Mercury that made you laugh, which he seemed to like.

“You know, I haven’t seen any of your bandmates in the crowd yet,” you said, hoping more conversation would distract you from how close he was and how interested he was making it clear he was.

“Well let’s see, last I saw Deaky he was up by the speakers; the man loves to dance. And Brian was over by the bar when I left him. Freddie could honestly be anywhere, but actually he’s wearing almost exactly the same color blue as you,” Roger told you, lightly touching the fabric of your dress, his palm just barely resting on your waist.

He watched your reaction, waiting to see what you would do next, whether you would welcome the contact or brush him off. You looked at his hand, then up at him, feeling his fingertips tense ever so slightly when he saw the look in your eyes. But you weren’t quite sure what to do; on one hand Roger Taylor’s hand was on your waist, on the other, you were supposed to be interviewing him very soon and any sort of fraternization wouldn’t be very professional.

Before you could decide, someone walked towards you and you looked over to see who it was, Roger withdrawing his hand at the same time.

It was the man who you had set up the interview with, Jim something? You weren’t sure that he had seen Roger’s hand, but you really hoped he hadn’t.

“It’s time,” he said with a small smile, gesturing a hand towards a pair of couches you could see on the other end of the short wall of the room.

“Can’t the interview wait Miami, I’m in the middle of a conversation,” Roger asked, a bit of whine making its way into his voice.

“I actually was talking to her, but yes, you’ll have to come along as well,” Miami replied shortly, turning and walking away, not waiting for you two to follow.

Roger turned to you, his eyebrows practically to his hairline, “You’re the reporter?”

You started walking and Roger kept up pace with you, “Yes.”

He laughed wryly, “Oh you’re good, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who approached me, actually,” you reminded him with the raise of a brow.

“Well-- I--” Roger spluttered, trying to find his way out but failing before you had reached the rest of the band.

You smiled brightly and introduced yourself to the other three, sitting opposite of them on the other couch. They exchanged glances between you and Roger, especially when he elected to sit next to you rather than squish in with the three of them, but didn’t say anything.

From there, the interview actually went really well. Roger didn’t seem to harbor any resentment that you didn’t tell him you were going to interview him. If anything, he was more open with his flirting, making little quips and innuendos that led to a lot of ducking your head. A couple times the others intervened with a “Sorry about him, darling” from Freddie, a couple of pointed throat clearings from Brian, and a somewhat subtle kick in the shin from John. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have minded what he was saying except that you were trying to act professional in front of his bandmates and their manager, as well as get your story.

But overall, the four of you got along great, falling into a good conversation rather than an awkward interview. They appreciated that you asked informed questions about their music, which you were happy about because you had done a lot of research in preparation. Another favorite topic was fashion and you and Freddie spent a good five minutes raving about the boutique you had bought the dress from. It was kinda sad to be done with the interview, but Miami intervened, telling the band they had to get back to meet with some executives.

While they went and did that, you went to the hallway, doing a quick happy dance at how well it went before finding the phone and calling your editor.

---

Brian and Freddie were taking the brunt of the interest from the executives as they had written the most songs, so Deaky turned to Roger and nodded towards the hallway where you were visible, talking on the phone.

“Bet she’s telling her editor all about how Roger the womanizer wouldn’t stop hitting on her during the interview,” he said sardonically.

Roger’s smile from seeing your excited gestures fell, “What?”

“I’ll just say that Fred and Bri will be disappointed if the interview isn’t focused on our music,” Deaky said, a warning in his tone.

Roger swallowed and nodded in understanding.

---

By the time your editor had let you off the phone, it was only about ten minutes to midnight. You made your way through the excited crowd to the packed bar, hoping to grab a drink in time for the New Year. It was taking a while but you were still smiling to yourself about the interview when you felt a tap on the shoulder.

It was Roger, once again holding two flutes of champagne.

“Need a drink?” he asked, his smile almost a bit shy.

You grinned back and accepted, cheersing and taking a drink with him.

“So--”

“Oh go ahead,” Roger told you.

“I was just going to say sorry that I didn’t tell you I was a reporter, if you want anything to be off the record, just tell me what and I won’t print it,” you told him quickly. “What were you gonna say?”

Roger huffed a laugh, “Just that I’m sorry if I distracted from the interview. I should’ve let you do your job.”

“I think a lie of omission and unprofessionalism are about equal offences. No hard feelings?” you asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You grasped it and couldn’t help but notice how warm he still was, and how the calluses on his fingers from drumming felt against your hands. Then Roger pulled you forward by your hand and you stumbled, laughing, until you had to let go to steady yourself with a hand on his chest.

You looked up at him, searching his gaze. His hand came back to your waist tentatively and you nodded, almost imperceptible, but he saw and a small smile graced his lips. Then you heard the crowd start the countdown around you and you smiled wide.

They got to one and yelled Happy New Year!, the sound barely reaching your ears as Roger’s lips pressed to yours, tasting sweet like champagne.

★★★

tagging bc it’s long: @drowseoftaylor @caborhapch @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands @stardust-galaxies @theblossomknows

#and its in time for those of you ahead one day!#also I don't actually like champagne #I always hoped I would but yuck fermentation #queen #roger taylor #blurb #fluff #roger meddows taylor #queen x reader #roger taylor x reader #roger meddows taylor x reader #queenmylovely #holiday advent #scorpiogemini #request

85 notes · View notes

lonely-t0wn · 3 years

Note

For the music asks: 1, 13, 23, 27, 34

1. an album you can’t stop listening to lately

sorry tk, but this one goes to screen violence by chvrches. there are only like 2 that i was kinda neutral on, but even they have grown on me the more i listen. definitely much more aligned with my tastes: darker themes and lyrics hidden under big choruses you just wanna belt mixed with some nice synth and guitar work. chef's kiss

13. if you could talk to any musician, who would it be? what would you want to say?

oh gosh. well of course i would love to meet brandon and explain just how much tk's music has meant to me and all of the things i've gained from it. but i'd also love to ask him about his songwriting and some of the technical parts of how he comes up with the melodies and stuff, i find it so fascinating!

23. name a song that you associate with being sad

top 3 (bc i can never choose just one of anything lol): never going back again by fleetwood mac, fix you by coldplay, and both sides now by joni mitchell

27. name a song that you wish was longer

my god by the killers....the fact that it's the shortest song on the album is absolutely criminal

34. pick one of your favorite bands/artists and choose a song by them that you associate with each season

i did tk last time, so i'll go with bleachers:

spring: stop making this hurt. honestly just because it came out in may right after my semester ended, so i had plenty of time to just listen to it on repeat outside, enjoying the weather when it was still nice summer: rollercoaster. super upbeat and fun, the perfect summer bop. fall: wake me. there's a quality to the guitar and the bridge and the lyrics that makes me want to just be snuggled under the covers with a cup of hot cocoa next to me while it's grey and chilly outside winter: everybody lost somebody. even though the sax makes this feel big and bold and summery, the lyrics are dark and raw and reflective of loss which i just associate with winter

send me music asks!

#that seasons one is so hardddd #i keep picking artists that have mostly summer vibes bc their music is more upbeat lol #also screen violence is SO good i cannot get enough #it's exactly what i wanted and didn't quite get from my other faves who released albums this summer #sorry pressure machine but that includes you #ask games #asks #ecouter bien

5 notes · View notes

gretavanfleetposts · 2 years

Note

hi! can i get a ship please? my pronouns are they/she and i’m a libra sun, aquarius moon and scorpio rising. i’m on the thicker side and have medium length straight(ish) brown hair with bangs. i am definitely more of an introvert and don’t love big groups of people, but when i’m with people who i’m very close with i can definitely be super chatty and love to have king deep talks with people, rather than more superficial ones. i sing and play ukulele and piano as a hobby, but it’s one of my very favorite things to do. if i’m home alone you can usually find me belting show tunes. some of my go to songs right now are I Don’t Want to Know and You Make Loving Fun by Fleetwood Mac, Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz, and anything by Phoebe Bridgers. when it comes to a partner, i look for someone kind, someone who can make me laugh and who will stick by me and support me during hard times. also physical touch as a love language certainly wouldn’t hurt. my favorite pieces of clothing are my green and brown cardigans that i wear everywhere and my close toe birkenstock clogs that i love soooo much. i also just got a new dress that is midi length with a pastel green and yellow floral pattern with big bell short sleeves that i just LOVE. it makes me feel like a 70s fairy and i adore it. i plan on wearing it if i am ever lucky enough to see the boys in concert. i have a dog named stevie and she’s the sweetest little girl in the whole world. she’s a pittbull mix who we got from the shelter and i love her more than anything. she’s not specifically names after stevie nicks, but if anyone ever asks i will certainly take the compliment haha. last but not least, my perfect date would be a picnic or a hike, something out in nature where there aren’t very many other people around so i feel more comfortable, where we can just have a long talk about anything and everything. thank you, you guys are awesome!

Hello, my love! I ship you with Josh!

First of all, the boy is stealing your birkenclogs (and probably also your cardigans). This is a fact. He will also be belting out show tunes with you. I can already picture Jake rolling his eyes at the two of you. I think Josh would appreciate that he can connect with you on a deeper level and that the two of you can talk about meaningful things. You'd make each other laugh, make music together, further inspire the other's 70's fashion, go hiking all the time together; I think you have everything this man is looking for. Oh and he will absolutely make you feel loved. You will never be touch starved with Josh around, that's a guarantee.

- ⭐

Submit requests here!

#ships #greta van fleet #gvf #anon #anon ships #gvf ships #greta van fleet ships #gretavanfleetpostsships

1 note · View note

missjackil · 3 years

Text

My Walker 1x03 Opinion

Bobble Head

Okay, so here we are with episode 3 and it was another good episode. I say this while still maintaining the fact that the only characters I like are Cordell and Augie. No one is a bad actor, Im not saying that, and Mickie is more tollerable now than she was in the pilot. The other characters I feel like just want to make Cordell feel worse than he does already. And I am so.over.dead.emily.

The stake out at the beginning was fun, I liked Walker’s boots up on the dashboard, though I dont know how Jared did that with his mile long legs!

Not a fan at all of Hoyt, I kinda wanted to punch him throughout the whole episode. Theres nothing worse than that friend you can’t trust, coming around your work and your family. I didn’t like Mom gushing over him, nor him being kinda flirty with Stella. I did like the convo between Dad and Mickey while Dad skipped dinner.

Poor drunk Augie! I feel bad for him yet Im glad Walker tortured him parentally about it. Stella wasnt too insufferable in this episode. She stilll bugs me but she sure is better than Claire Novak 😣

I have so much to say about this episode and where the show seems to be leading, and Im trying hard not to ramble, but it’s not working LOL. I know Im sounding too critical about a show I also claim to enjoy, but let me first say that this show isnt a show I would normally choose to watch, but neither is SPN. I stuck with SPN early on when I wasnt really hooked on the show itself, because I loved Sam and Dean and loved watching their interactions, but by mid season 2 I was hooked on the show as well. I am watching Walker because i love Jared, and Cordell is an interesting character. Im not a big fan of family drama, but I think Walker is very good for a show for that genre.

There are things about Walker (as a show) that I dont really like. I dont like how they had Jared and Gen play themselves 17 years in the past. They’re both gorgeous, not saying they aren’t but they dont pass for 20ish. Lets be honest. Maybe due to covid they couldnt hire actors to play younger versions like SPN always did, but it would have been better for that story to have been spoken, as opposed to trying to pass off 40 yr olds as 20yr olds without even make up or hair changes (they didnt even cover Jared’s grays!). Kind of like putting 300+lbs on the back of a horse with a injured leg and have it run a full gallop.

These things dont ruin the show for me, but a “Do you think Im stupid?” light goes on in my head. Like dont assume your audience doesn;’t notice or care about such things.

On the positive side, I love the use of music on this show. I love how they used the Fleetwood Mac song Tusk in this episode! I love that song and its on my playlist, so it made me turn the volume up! The ad for the song they had on in the beginning was great too! I hope they do that often and other shows start doing it too. Its much better than trying to look up a song when you dont know the title or artist.

Also this show should really be titled “Walker And Outfits He Looks Smokin’ Hot In” but Im beginning to think Jared told a fib when he said he’s been shirtless more on Walker this first season, than he was in all 15 seasons of SPN combined, because I have not seen this illusive shirtless Walker yet hmmmm, but the season is still young!

I wonder if the red Mustang is Jared’s car? I know he’s said his first car was an old Mustang and he still has it. Does anyone know the answer? Also, now I want to know why he likes the name Stella so much that he names a car and his firstborn the same name?

Ok so wrapping up, I did enjoy this episode. Cordell is less angsty and his personality is really coming out and I like it. He’s confidently cocky, baddass but not mean, he has a great dry sense of humor and a warm soft spot. Hmm... Dean is that you in Sam’s vessle? No wonder he has short hair now LOL

The show will be on hiatus after episode 5, not sure for how long but i hope it’s a good cliff hanger.

So Bobble Head earned a 7.5/10 from me. I think Im seeing a trend here lol Cordell is a very interesting character, I hope other characters become more interesting as we go.

#Walker 1x03 spoilers #walker #my opinion #Bobble Head #keep it up jrod

13 notes · View notes

vanchlo · 4 years

Text

Birdy (Green Eyes / 2)

Read the first part, Green Eyes, here! :-)

Blurb Synopsis: After finally meeting the mysterious Mr. Styles you subbed for, you take a job at the same school, right across the hall from him. You’re unsure how much longer you can hide your feelings for him as you’ve grown to become best friends.

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, romance, angst, and a little sad.

Warnings: None

Word Count: Nearly 8k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Blackbird by The Beatles (click to listen)

Your desk was covered in Twix wrappers, multicolored gel pens, and empty cans of Coke. The new school year hadn’t even begun, and your desk already looked like a tornado had come by. Not to mention the fact that school started in almost three weeks and you hardly had any classroom books. You kept telling yourself it’s a high school English classroom, not a third-grade classroom. There’s a library down the hall for a reason, but the classroom barren of books drove you nuts. Your desk wasn’t shy to books though, as favorites of Harry had found a home on the dark wood.

Leaves of Grass.

Catcher in the Rye.

The Sun Also Rises.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Walking into your classroom on this sunny morning, the thought makes the smile on your face grow wider. Finally, you can say that you have your own classroom. The sight of the week-old books leaves the smile there on your lips. A laugh dances off of them at the sight of the Roald Dahl book, bringing you back to the memory when you found it there one morning.

You had asked Harry why he included it in the occasional stack of books he loaned to you. He said it’s required reading, because so few people know the movies are based on a book. You’re just wondering when he’s going to slip The Outsiders or Stuart Little under your door next.

The rows of ancient cream desks stare back at you, and you wonder just how you’re going to command a classroom in a few days. Well, seven of them to be exact. Then you try to remind yourself, for the twentieth time, that you’ve done this before. It won’t be so hard, then. Perhaps you’ll even have some past students, and that should help. Right?

You’ve barely gotten a few steps into your classroom, because of the thoughts muddling your mind. Sighing, you slip off your bag to leave on your chair. One that some days you don’t even sit in, because your legs are walking miles around your classroom, setting up. Thumbtacks are scattered across the expanse of your desk, reminding you of the unfinished walls. Before you can think about the posters sitting in the corner, a flash of pink catches your eye. Furrowing your brow, your eyes flit back to the flash of color.

It’s a hot pink Post-It note with messy handwriting in black ink.

Should I get us burgers or subs for the meeting we have today?

PS: You’re officially a teacher now with your own pad of Post-Its ;)

You’re sure that the insane happiness painting your face would look more at home on that of a teenager. Nonetheless, you can’t get rid of it, and you wouldn’t want to. This rings even more true when you see the note is stuck to a copy of Matilda. A warmth blossoms in your chest as you pick it up, running your thumb along the weathered edges. Ones you haven’t touched in ages, it seems. Within seconds you’re stepping into the hallway, thoughts knitting together in your mind. They’re from the love you have deep down for this story, a favorite book, and movie of yours as a child. The elation budding in your mind stops when you find his door closed, just as you had minutes ago. Unable to hide your disappointment, a pout tugs at your lips as you turn around.

“Ya gotta verdict already? Dat was quick,” a voice drawls from behind you. Your pout is a thing of the past, and a grin is making its way to replace it. Spinning around, your summery dress follows your twirling body.

A couple paces away, Harry stands at the top step of the staircase. His trademark brown leather backpack is slung over one shoulder. A black Fleetwood Mac t-shirt hugs his upper half, a black and blue flannel covering his arms. His old skool Vans echo down the hallway as he walks towards you.

“Well, I’ve already read it,” you inform him, observing his content smile turn into a confused one. “A couple of times actually. Once when I was 8, then some other times through the years.”

“Ah, so I got lucky and happened upon a lifetime favourite, have I?” he smirks, only a few steps away now.

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, your growing hair tickling your chin before you move it away. “When are you going to tell me what your favorite book is?”

“When ya finally guess it right,” he quips, stopping in front of you. A dimple falls into his left cheek as he shows off his sparkling teeth. Okay, sir, it is too early in the morning to be looking this attractive.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop being so chipper when it’s only nine in the morning,” you tell him firmly, but it’s all for show. Poking his chest, your finger just hits pure muscle. Swoon.

“Then maybe wake up, already, birdy,” he chirps, the Raybans in his hair moving when his head goes from side to side. Chuckling, he grabs hold of your finger and tries to bite it, but you pull away in time. The mention of the recent pet name slows you down, but you haven’t gotten bitten yet. “Ya betta not fall asleep in today’s meetin’ like ya did last week.”

“I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting my eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. His amused giggle greets your ears as he unclips his ring of keys from his blue jeans.

“Yes ya did, ya don’t getta lie t’ me, love,” he responds in between laughs, seemingly finding this more amusing than it really is.

“Oh, so John can fall asleep at meetings, but I can’t?” you ask, your voice raising with laughter and faux annoyance.

You watch Harry pluck his sunglasses from his head as you walk into his dark classroom. The streams of sunlight speckle desks and pictures donning his walls. As you flick on the light, the smell of oranges wafts over you again. The red bowl sat upon his desk filled with the citrus makes you feel at home, albeit his mere presence does that without fail.

“No, ya can’t. Sorry, love. I don’t make tha rules ‘round here.”

“Lame,” you sigh, paging through the book mindlessly as you fall into his new chair. He finally splurged and bought a comfy leather one that you steal every chance you can get.

“Want a Bit-O-Honey, honey?” Harry offers, pulling your eyes away from the familiar pictures. Grinning, you take the wrapped candy from his outstretched hand, trying to ignore the pet name. You find it hard to forget as you half look through the book and half watch him peel off his flannel. A sight, indeed.

“Wait, how’d you put this in my room if the door was locked? The other books you sneaked in when I stepped out,” you ask suddenly, working on the piece of hard candy in your mouth.

“I tol’ Marty tha janitor I forgot sumthin’ in yer room.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice even though his back is to you. A broad one at that. When he turns just the slightest to peek at you, you find crinkles around his glimmering eyes.

“Harry!” you scoff, your jaw falling to your chest, although not quite.

“Oh stop it, ya know ya like it.”

Groaning, you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance, but it doesn’t last very long.

“I don’t like all of these meetings,” you complain, throwing your head back onto the headrest. You flip to a page that makes you smile at the sight of cartoon Matilda.

“Get used t’ it, ‘s one o’ tha big differences between bein’ a sub an’ a salaried teacher. Shoulda just stayed a sub then,” he jokes, driving you to pick up a Bit-O-Honey and throw it at his head. Turning away from the things he’s unloading from his backpack, he whines. “Heeey! Watch dat arm o’ yers, ‘s a scary one. Maybe ya should be teachin’ gym class instead.”

“Sports are ew,” you reply, ducking when he throws it back at you. “Harry Styles, you stop it!” you manage in between giggles, finally closing the book.

“Oh ya, and what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it in t’ose heels, huh?” he teases, his hands leaving the pockets of his oversized backpack. “Ya gonna fly over t’ me, li’l birdy?”

Huffing, you set down the book on his neat desk. Placing his hands on his hips, he turns to you and sticks out his tongue.

“Oh, that’s it! You’re going to get it!” you threaten, standing from the chair as his laughter fills the room.

“‘m soooo scared, boohoo,” he teases with a fake sob, his fists mimicking wiping tears from his cheeks. Snickering, he returns to his backpack. “Go hang up yer posters in yer room and leave me be fer once.”

“You’re no fun,” you proclaim with a final whimper. Grabbing the book, you come up from behind him, softly hitting him with it on the shoulder.

“I warned you,” he retorts. Before you know it, he gently grabs your wrist and pulls you over to stand in front of him.

“Warned me about what?” you jest, a giggle wedging its way into your sentence as you drop the book onto a desk. You know that you’re getting on his nerves now. It’s the only time you’ve heard his teacher voice come out, but hey, you’re not complaining.

His thick eyebrows above those eyes raise, wrinkling his forehead tan from your days at the beach the last few months. Harry pushing you off a rope swing into the water, him bitching about doing all of the paddling during your canoe trip, not so accidentally drenching your back with water from his paddle, and head dunking competitions while swimming. The tan looks far better on him, you think, as you admire the sun-kissed freckles peppering his face.

“I told ya one time dat yer good at pushin’ me buttons, and here ya are doin’ it. I know I shoulda neva told ya dat,” he mutters, the curls atop his head dancing as his head rocks back and forth. The nervous laughter bubbling inside of you finds its escape, and you know that you’ve done it now. “But I guess ya jus’ don’t listen, do ya, bird?”

You can’t stop yourself, and there you are poking his dimple with your finger. This time, you squeal when it finds its way between his nibbling teeth. His name leaves your lips in a near shout which only grows worse as his fingers dance along your ribs.

“Stop, stop!” you cry out, but with no avail. His other arm comes around your middle to trap you with your back against a desk, despite your squirming. His other fingers dig into your sides before finding the soft flesh of your tummy.

“Stop bloody screamin’, yer gonna make e’rybody think ‘m murderin’ ya or sumthin’,” he titters. You almost give in at the sight of his crinkly eyes and the smile stretching across his face.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I might jus’ hafta find a way t’ shut ya up, my li’l bird,” he coos from above you, a brunette brow raising.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really,” he hums, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your side now.

His bubblegum lips relax, falling into a knowing smirk. The laughs disappear from the both of you as his fingers still, resting on your side. The seconds tick by as your heart hammers in your chest, because his face is closer than it was a second ago. You gulp, suddenly finding the gold flecks in his eyes you didn’t know were there. Or the smattering of tiny freckles along his nose. That all becomes a thought of the past when his lips become the only thing you can think about as they near you. “Shall I?” Harry says in a breathy whisper, and you’re nodding even before his last syllable hits the air.

Your skin feels hot and prickly all over as your eyes fall closed, waiting for what happens next. The very thing you’ve dreamed of since that day you dropped the books in front of him. When he took off his shirt at the beach, revealing his toned chest covered in black tattoos. The charisma and kindness he carried at your very first meeting after you were hired, the beginning of you two being joined at the hip.

His lips are soft when he presses them against yours, and warm. He surrounds your lips with his slowly, as excitement rushes through you. A woodsy smell engulfs you when your nose brushes against his prickly cheek. His lips feel like velvet against yours with the slightest taste of Carmex chapstick. You’re sure he can feel the smile hiding on yours as his top lip fits between yours like a puzzle piece. His thin beard you’ve never seen him without tickles at your skin as your lips mold together. You can still feel the tingle on your lips after he’s pulled away. As well as the one that spreads across your body when those green eyes look into yours.

“See, I was right. It did get you t’ shuddup,” he mumbles, the blissed-out smirk on his face covering every inch of his skin. You’ve seen his nervous smiles and everything in between, but you’re certain you’ve never seen that smile before. Not that your face is any better, because right now it’s a competition between whose smile is bigger. It might just be a tie, and you wish there could be a tie-breaker.

“You should do that more often,” you smile, an uneasy laugh bringing an end to your risky words.

“I think ‘d be happy with dat.”

You try to tell yourself you’re glad his hands didn’t stray to your face, because he would’ve felt the heat of your tomato likened cheeks. There’s no use, because you want them there, but on your sides, as they are is better than nothing. It fills your stomach with multitudes of butterflies just to have your hands on each other.

His hands draw shapes into your back when you wrap him in a hug. The fresh smell of his citrus body wash fills your nose, your skin touching the fabric of his shirt.

“Ya gonna get all soft on me now, are ya?” he whispers above you, his cheek against the side of your head.

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can muster as you find yourself dragging the tips of your fingers along his side.

Raising your head to peek up at him, his eyes drop to you. “Good, I like ya dat way,” he murmurs, running his thumb along the roundness of your cheek. His tongue peeks out of his lips, held between his teeth. “Verdict?” he almost laughs, causing the butterflies inside of you to stir.

“I don’t know. I think I might need um, another sample,” you smirk, watching a corner of his mouth meet his cheek.

“Tha’s fair,” he agrees before dipping to plant another kiss to your lips. His lips are even more decadent a second time, and you quickly realize how addicting this could become. You realize it’s the only addiction you’d be okay with having as the tip of his nose caresses your cheek.

Your lips part with a soft smack, much too soon for your liking. “We should prolly get back t’ work,” Harry snickers, his breath against your face sweet from the caramel candy.

“Yeah,” you agree aloud, much to your dismay. “I’d give it an A, by the way.”

“Hmmm,” he thinks aloud, quirking his eyebrows in response.

“A long overdue one.”

“‘d say yer right there,” he echos, pinching your cheek between his fingers. Giggling, you pull away as your laughs mix with each other’s.

“Hey, Harry!” a voice calls, sounding far away.

You separate quickly, like two magnets repelling each other. It saddens you, but when a colleague steps into Harry’s classroom a moment later, you’re met with relief as you grab the book off the desk.

“Hi, Trent. Ya ready t’ see who falls asleep first in t’day’s meetin’?” he quips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly leaning against a desk.

“My money’s on John, for sure,” Trent jokes, pressing his red glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh hi, Y/N,” he says, greeting you. You wave with a small ‘hi’ as you stand at the edge of the classroom near the windows uneasily.

“I dunno, my money feels pretty good on her,” Harry teases, pointing a finger at you before winking.

“Whatever. I better go take my nap now that you reminded me,” you return, sauntering out of the room and into the hall.

Out of his presence, the butterflies take flight inside of you. A warmth fills your body all over when you reach the safety of your classroom. Closing the door, you fall against it with happiness jumping from the smile on your lips. Squealing with your hands held to your chest, you soon sigh at the thought of his lips. His lips soon being on yours again, and again, and again.

Exhaling, you step down from the chair and stare at your hard work. Nodding in approval, you straighten the skirt of your patterned mustard dress. The happy face of Anne Frank looks back at you from the enlarged poster of her autobiography. Dragging your feet over to your desk, you plop onto your brown spinny chair, ignoring your heels forgotten on the floor. You bask in the new ambiance of your classroom, feeling the pleasure from the new posters donning your walls.

The Diary of Anne Frank.

Ross from F.R.I.E.N.D.S saying ‘you’re means y-o-u a-r-e.’

The quote, ‘Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not’ - Tyrion Lannister.

A funny grammar poster that makes you feel like an even bigger English nerd.

Frowning, the last poster in the corner sits there begging to be shown off, but you need help with it. After the events of earlier, you’re nervous to approach Harry. A sweet kind of nervousness, but nonetheless it’s there. Huffing, you grab the edge of the desk to pull you closer. Pressing play, the Queen song crawls from your laptop’s speakers, slowly filling the room. Clicking through your open windows, you finally find the unit plan you’ve been working on.

Voices carry down the hallway outside your door, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Squinting, as if it will help your hearing, you then tilt your head to look out your half-opened door. Jackson from the nearby history wing walks by, laughing at something somebody said.

“Dis betta not be a bloody heavy desk, Jack,” somebody responds, amusement laced in their voice.

“Hey, I know that voice,” you softly whisper to yourself, your lips curling at its sound.

“You’re the one who agreed to help me! You can’t get out of helping me bring it in now, Harry!”

You hear the melodic sound of his laugh, perhaps one of your favorite sounds. The butterflies return when you let yourself think about getting to hear it as much as you’d like in these walls. 5 days a week for 9 months out of the year- well, something like that.

A couple seconds later, Harry zooms past your door saying, “Get t’ work!” in a mocking deep voice, winking.

“You!” you shout back, giggling to yourself with hot cheeks. You attempt to return your attention to the document open on your screen. It’s difficult, you find, because the thing consuming your mind is how nice Harry’s bum looked in those jeans.

Chatter pecks at your ears as you swivel in your chair, watching your new colleagues converse around the table. Your new boss laughs with somebody standing at the room’s front by the projector screen. Reaching forward, you pluck another carrot from your plate to nibble on nervously. Once again, you pull out your phone to busy yourself, only making you feel guiltier for not mingling. You’ve already said at least a ‘hi’ to everyone in this room already, and you have the rest of your career to get to know them, you tell yourself. Bouncing your leg, your eyes drift to the clock on the wall. Impatience spreads like a hot wave throughout your limbs, bringing your eyes yet again to the back door to the conference room. When is he going to get here, you guess fervently, counting down the minutes until the meeting starts.

A thud! surprises you when a white paper bag lands on the table in front of you.

“Hmm, I didn’t know ya were a jumpa,” a voice snickers, its owner soon coming into view in front of you. Harry. “Why ya lookin’ like a lost puppy, bird?” he coos, pushing out his bottom lip as he pulls out the chair to your right.

“I’m not,” you retort, continuing to scroll through Instagram, stopping when you see a picture of a Goldendoodle puppy.

“Yes, ya do. What, were ya wonderin’ what’d ya do if I didn’t show? Can’t have ya missin’ yer security blanket now,” he teases, poking you in the ribs with a glint in his eye.

“Stop,” you giggle, placing your phone face down on the table. Sitting up and eyeing the food, you pinch his thigh for good measure.

“Hey, watch those fingas, missy. They keep gettin’ ya into trouble lately,” he warns, tsking as his head goes from side to side. Opening the bag, he pulls out a familiar wrapped burger to hand to you.

“Thank you, I’ll pay you back.”

“Shhhh, ya can pay next time. Sound good?” Harry hums, flitting his eyes to you with an eyebrow raise.

You give him his answer with a nod before taking a bite of the cheeseburger. Your boss starts to tell everybody to find a seat so they can begin the meeting. Out of the corner of your eye, Harry sets a packet of fries in front of you. Shooting him a smile, he returns it as he feeds one between his happy lips. Chairs squeak and whine as they’re moved and sat in around the long table. Somebody nudges your foot, and to no surprise, you find it’s Harry. He holds out a covered paper cup, a red straw poking from the top. A ‘thank you’ is held in your smile and he just nods, slipping off his sunglasses to set down. Your attention is stolen by his fingers raking through his curls to put them back in place.

A thought pops into your head unwarranted, and consumes your attention as the principal speaks. I wonder if this means now I get to run my fingers through those curls, you ponder as you grab a fry. At the most inconvenient time possible, your mind starts to dig around. Doubts soon fill your thoughts, along with questions about what this will be with him. You try to push them away and lock them in a box, but they’ve done their job. Any smile left on your lips is gone now, and you continue to eat your burger quietly.

“Ya eat jus’ like a bird with t’ose li’l bites,” Harry whispers, scooting closer to the table to retrieve the packets of ketchup from the bag.

Turning to look at him, he holds a glowing smile in his eyes for you. His shoe knocks into yours and he leaves it sitting on top of yours. Take that, stupid brain, you announce to your thoughts as you affectionately bump your knee against Harry’s.

Reverting your thoughts to the towering figure speaking at the front of the room, a smile buds on your lips at the feeling of Harry rubbing his knee against yours.

Rubbing your hands across your eyes, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. Tapping the board with your electronic marker that’s a pen, highlighter, and an eraser in one, you drag it in zig zags. The scribbles on the board disappear in a flash. Suddenly, it falls from your hands when you feel a pair of arms surround your waist.

“Hiya, bird,” a voice says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Their warm breath tickles the nape of your neck, and so does the collar of their shirt. Spinning around, you find Harry standing there, a pout forming on his face. The adorable Starry Night tie you bought for him hangs loosely over his cornflower blue button-down. “What, why won’t ya lemme hug you?”

“Harry, anybody could walk in,” you insist, prying his arms from your waist. Bending down, you pick up the pen and place it back in its holder with a click.

“All tha students are gone by now, babe. ‘s half past 3, and any dat are around are at practice. Tha last place they’d wanna be ‘s back t’ a classroom afta their first day o’ school,” he murmurs, wedging his way back into your good graces as he pulls you back into his arms. “I wanted t’ see how me birdy’s first day went. Sooooo, wha’s tha verdict?”

“It was good. A little overwhelming, though,” you hum in return, letting your head fall backward to fit against his cheek.

“It ‘s fer e’rybody, love, so don’t worry. It’ll get betta, jus’ hang in there. Tha first month ‘s nothin’, that’s tha honeymoon period befo’ e’rythin’ goes wild.” His lips brush against your cheek with every word, the feeling of his ticklish stubble something you’re not yet used to.

“Harry!” you scoff, turning your head to find his hairy cheeks creased with a devilish smile behind you.

“‘m kiddin’, well not really, but hey, ya got me t’ help ya through it all. Don’t fret, love,” he tries to assure you, brushing the back of his fingers along your side. “What was yer favourite part o’ yer day, hmm?”

“Seeing some familiar students from when I used to sub. It was nice to catch up with them and hear stories,” you reveal, looking down as you cover his hands settled on your tummy with your own.

“Mmm, that’s good. Familiar faces are always nice,” Harry mumbles, the point of his nose dragging along the expanse of your cheek. “Did I tell ya yet ya look really pretty in yer new dress?”

“Yes, you did. About three times, but thank you again.”

“Welcome, bird. I hope no teenage boys are crushin’ on ya now,” he jests, planting a loud kiss on your temple. The remnants of his minty piece of gum cover your face in a silent cloud as he laughs at his own joke.

“Yuck! Oh and like there aren’t dozens of girls fawning over you in your classes?” you chuckle, bringing a whine to his lips when you squirm in his arms. “Put that lip away.”

“Or what? Hmm, what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it? Ya can kiss it away like all tha girls in me classes wanna do, if ya want,” Harry smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you turn around. Lifting a hand from his arm, it lifts to brush back the brown ringlets falling onto his forehead.

“You’re gross sometimes. It makes me wonder how I can kiss that potty mouth.”

“Well ya do, and ya sure seem t’ like it,” he winks, dramatically licking his lips with a loud slurp.

“Stop!” you exclaim, collapsing into laughter, your head returning to his chest. His hands clasp over your back, his thumb brushing your skin through the jade dress you wear. You’re grateful for your face hidden away in his chest for when you feel his lips pepper kisses from your temple to your neck. He leaves your skin tingling from his magical touch, and his growing curls leave a trail down your neck.

“I think dis year’s gonna be a good one,” he coos against your ear, letting his smooth nose brush against its lobe. “I got tha reason right here.”

“Can we do this though?” The words jump from your lips without a chance to catch them and shove them back in their safety.

“Do what, love? Kiss? ‘Course, ya jus’ take yer lips and my lips, and put ‘em togetha’ like dis,” he wisecracks, lifting your head to show you the humor painting his face. Puckering his flushed lips, he closes the space between you to press a peck to your waiting lips. Pulling away, he quirks an eyebrow at you in silent questioning.

“That’s not what I meant, Harry,” you continue, your words falling short of the thoughts buzzing around in your skull.

“Then what’d ya mean?”

“Can we, I don’t know . . ,” you begin, but you lose your footing. Leaving his arms regrettably, you almost lose your footing quite literally when he tries to hold on. A sound leaves his lips at your departure, but you try to ignore it. That’s easier said than done, you realize as you fight with yourself, wondering if you should say that word or not. “Date . . as colleagues?”

They they are, free to the wind. It feels like coming home and your heavy book bag leaving your shoulders, although this time it’s far less trivial. The similarity doesn’t ease your anxious mind as you stop in front of your desk, fingering at the note that greeted you this morning. A pink Post-It note smattered with his sometimes unreadable handwriting, resting on top of a box of novels he gifted to you for your classroom.

To my favorite teacher - I know you’ve been dreading this day for months, and looking forward to it, too. You’re going to do great. They’re going to love you. You’re not going to mess anything up. You got this, bird. Remember that. Take it easy on yourself. Remember, you have to take care of yourself, so then you can take care of them. You’ll learn from each other too. Just keep remembering pizza at the beach with me tonight to celebrate your first day.

Harry xoxooxoxoxo

“‘Course we can, as long as it doesn’t bleed into our work life. What d’ya mean?” Harry says, trying to inject lightheartedness into his words. You both can hear the failed effect they have, and they only make his words sound sadder.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to like, get in trouble, or something. I just started this job.”

“Oh,” is all he mumbles. Mumbled or not, you hear the finality in his one word. As well as all that it says with that single syllable.

Looking over your shoulder at him, you find the confirmation you needed knitting together his features. “Harry,” you say, turning the rest of your body to face him. He takes a step back, and now you know you’ve done it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how’d ya mean it?” he retorts, coolness playing in his voice. He knows he’s done it, too. “Hmmm, bird? Ya only care ‘bout dat part o’ it - if we get caught and what people would think? Only wanna keep me a secret?” His words bite as he spits them into the air. They hit your face with a sting, but nothing compares to how he threw your nickname into the mud. The nickname you love, that happened all because of the first meal you shared together.

“Harry, don’t. You know that’s not what I meant- Y-you’re being ridiculous,” you press, stepping forward. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, because he continues to walk away from you. Quickly, your hands grow shaky as the feeling consumes the rest of your body.

“No, I know what ya meant. Or ‘s there mo’ ya want t’ say? Want t’ say dat ‘Oh, ‘s too risky, so maybe we shouldn’t do dis anymo’, even tho’ it makes us happy,’” Harry persists, his right hand lifting in question, before it falls with a slap to his thigh.

“We never even said what this was,” you try to say, but before you get any further, you know you’re just making it worse. You know that he’ll read into your words incorrectly and assume the worst, despite your true meaning. At the realization, your heart pounds harder in your chest. The look on his face like you just slapped him tells you all you need to know. “Harry, wait.”

“No, yer right. We neva said what dis was, but apparently ‘s nuthin’ worth labelin’ or takin’ risks fer,” he grumbles. His head falls with a spiteful smile, but when it lifts again something shatters in your chest. With wet eyes, he continues in a croaky voice, “Then why’d ya take tha job knowin’ I was mad ‘bout ya?”

Your lips wobble with his name dangling from them. When you try to walk over to him, you’re only two steps in when he holds a hand up. “No, don’t. ‘m glad ya told me early on. ‘m happy I didn’t already start fallin’ fer ya or anythin’. That’d be real shitty, wouldn’t it?” he wheezes, a strange smile tugging at his lips dealing failed sarcasm. Sniffling, a tear falls down his tanned skin and he brushes it away. With a shake of his head, he turns to walk out of the door. You know that you shouldn’t, but you let him, because you know you have to.

Collapsing at your desk, your head falls into your hands. Tears splash into your palms as your chest shakes, wondering just how you turned the best first day into the worst first day.

You know that a note won’t be there, but you continue to wish as your heels clack down the halls of lockers. You know that you’ll see his face no matter how hard you try to avoid him, and that it’ll hurt more than you thought it would. Although you prepared yourself, unlocking the door to your classroom and finding no notes from him hurts more than you suspected. The hurt only stings worse when you pass each other in the halls with your students trailing behind, eyes falling away instantly. The spark in the air is lost when he huffs, passing you on the way to the vending machine in the lounge, leaving as soon as he came. Although the hurt grew as the attacks came and went, nothing could prepare you for the absence of his notes that week. That was an eventuality you had dreaded thinking of since the day you found the first one, back in his classroom.

You tried at the very least, albeit an understatement. Notes dropped into his mailbox went unanswered, as well as texts and phone calls. Even the bag of Bit O Honeys failed at their messages of apology. A few times you thought about trudging into his classroom after the bell rang, and hashing it out. Each time you mustered just enough courage to do so, a staff meeting got in the way. Or, within 5 minutes of the bell, his door was locked and he was gone. Speaking of staff meetings, you suffered even worse at those. No longer was he your security blanket at your side, because he no longer saved you a seat. Slowly, the young and pretty visual arts teacher grew to get on your nerves as you watched her be a little too nice to him. He didn’t entertain her taunts and turn to you with a smirk to rub it in your face. No, he was a good guy, and you had to go and ruin it, or what was becoming of it.

He ignored you - at staff meetings, in the copy room, in the staff lounge, in the halls, when both of your classes were in the library - basically everywhere and anywhere. It was an understatement to say you suffered because of it. You had to buddy up with Jen, the poetry teacher. She took the brunt of your questions, whether technology-related or English related. You became fast friends, but unlike the easiness with Harry, you quickly felt you were a nuisance. That was something he never made you feel like, well, until now that is.

You made the mistake of getting your hopes up when you found a bag of Bit O Honeys in your mailbox one morning. That is until the white note on it told you in his writing to stop plugging his box with them. Instead, you tossed them on the counter in the staff lounge to share, never wanting to see those yellow and red wrappers again. Quickly, what you thought had become your dream job morphed into a nightmare. His face filled your thoughts day after day, and it especially distracted you when your mind chose the tear-stricken memory. It bled into your lectures and although it stung less when you saw him, without fail every day, it was messing with your mind. It didn’t help when you were beginning a unit on Romeo and Juliet and a student joked you could play Juliet and Mr. Styles could play Romeo, quite literally.

You had been staying after school every day to finish lesson plans, grade tests, reflect on teaching, and plan for the next day. The October chill that arrived this week only made you want to stay in your cozy classroom with the Autumn decorations you hung up. Soon, it would be Halloween and costumes would fill the halls. The thought pours memories into your mind, but a particular one sours the enjoyment for you. The memory of planning a matching costume with Harry. Jay and Daisy from The Great Gatbsy, like the English teacher nerds you are. Were.

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you reach for your water bottle. A groan finds its way past your lips when you pick it up, only to find it's empty. Standing with it in your hands, you cross the room to your door. After a few steps into the hallway, your movements freeze at the sight of his open door. Biting back any hesitations, your hand shakes when it presses against the wood.

Something thrilling washes over you when you find his head bent over his desk. His left hand covered with varying rings props his head up as he marks the page with his favorite red pen. A Micron pen, but only you would know that. Pausing, he fiddles with the tan braces strapping his shoulders clad in a handsome white and gray checkered button-down. Words stick together inside of your mouth, and when you hear the click of your shoe, regret surges inside of you.

“I made a mistake,” you say, testing the waters, although you know they’re stormy. Clearing your throat, you hope the subsequent ones will come out louder and stronger, before he can stop you. Your galloping heart jumps when he lifts his head to look at you, a question painting his face. “I fucked up, and I could never say how sorry I am. I said the wrong things, and I didn’t mean them that way- that’s not the point . . . I miss you, Harry. You’re all I think about, even when I’m thinking of other things, or when I’m teaching. That’s how I know it’s bad, because even though it’s only been a month, it still hurts like it was yesterday,” your voice screeches to a halt. You take one step at a time as he watches you.

A curl tickles his bearded cheek, making you want to tuck it back into place, but you can’t. A crumb from a chip sits on his chin, making you want to brush it away, but you know you can’t. And neither can you whisk away the worry lines forming around his eyes.

“I need you, not just to help me figure out how to use a projector or what a conjunction is again. But I need to tell you about the good parts of my day, and even the bad parts. Because even though we haven’t talked for like a month, my mind still goes to you when something good happens, or even bad. Even my students tease that we should be together, so that says something,” you try your hand at joking, but he turns his attention back to his desk. “Harry, please. I’m sorry,” you plead with him, tears catching the last of your words.

“Sorry doesn’t jus’ make it all go away, bird,” he returns cooly. His head lifts ever so slightly, only to fall. As if he changed his mind a few seconds into a decision.

“I know, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll buy you Bit-O-Honeys for the rest of your life, grade your papers, check your mailbox, or buy the next meals for a month. Anything.” The apologies run off of your lips, but he doesn’t say anything, nor do his actions. An exhale whooshes over your pursed lips as your nails dig into your clenched palms. Defeat covers your body as you turn to leave.

“None o’ dat takes away what ya said,” he announces painfully, the new fabric of his chair squeaking with his movements.

“I know,” you say automatically, a battle waging its way inside of you of whether to look at him. As if his words laced with hurt didn’t already leave you breathless. “So tell me what I have to do.”

“I can’t do dat, bird. Ya should know,” he sighs, clucking his tongue in disbelief.

Your eyes fall shut and your jaw clenches in anger, but the sweet smell of oranges brings you back to the moment. “I’m sorry that I made it seem like it wasn’t worth being with you, because it was, and I realized that even more after . . what happened. I’m sorry that it didn’t seem like I was dedicated enough, but I want to be a- I want to show you that I can be, and I want to be that to you. I’m sorry that I care too much about what other people think, because I only care what you think. It’s ripped me apart lately knowing that you hate me, and how you can’t even be around me, and . . ,” your string of words breaks off, stolen away by your onset of tears. They rumble through your chest with tremors, and the embarrassment brings your hands to your face streaked with them.

The howling of the wind hugs the windows, masking any other sounds. If there were, you can’t hear them, but you do feel something. His fingers wrapping around yours, pulling your hands away from your face.

“Ya gonna stop now befo’ ya make me cry too?” he hums, one corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With raised eyebrows, they pose the question to you. Nodding fast with hiccups stealing your words, he kneads your hands between his own. “Are ya gonna shuddup or am I gonna hafta make you?” Harry softly laughs.

“You’re going to have to make me,” you return, stumbling over your sobbed words.

“Good, was hopin’ ya’d say dat.”

Smirking playfully, he steps forward to cup your face in his hands. The callused tips of his fingers make quick work of the tears staining your face, as well as his lips. “Don’t cry, and don’t ever say dat I hate you,” he coos in between pecks to your wet skin singing with his kisses. “Don’t want me pretty birdy t’ cry no mo’.”

“Your bird doesn’t want to cry and be sad, and miss you anymore,” you whimper, trying to hold it all in, but it comes pouring out.

“Baby bird,” he pouts sadly, his rose lips round and extended. His brow presses into a sad line as the same emotion carries his words. “Lemme make it all betta.”

Nodding, you hiccup again as you cover his hands with yours. His subsequent smile warms your insides cold and aching from the long days without him. His lips bring a respite when they touch yours, ending the harsh drought. Kissing him back, you revel in the feeling of his unkempt scratchy beard against your face. Just one more thing you missed. Severing the kiss, you mumble an ‘I’m sorry’ against his chapped lips.

“Shhh, ‘s okay, love. I know ya are,” he tells you before bringing his lips back against yours. They move together slowly, welcoming the return of the other.

Your mouth falls to envelope his bottom lip in between yours, his facial hair feathery against your mouth. Hungrily, you kiss him and savor his familiar taste and smell. Fingers drifting to his hair, they return home to his buttery curls. His lips pull away only to plant another kiss against your mouth. Too soon, he breaks the kiss with a breathy laugh against your lips.

“My goodness, lemme breathe, love.”

“Sorry . . I missed you.”

“Ya sure did, bird. Think I missed ya a li’l more, though,” Harry chuckles as your hands fall from his locks. His thumb steals the last hint of a tear from under your eye. The amusement creasing his features disappears swiftly. “‘m sorry too, y’know. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have put meself over yer job. It wasn’t fair o’ me t’ do dat. D’ya think I can have those Bit-O-Honeys back, or were ya serious ‘bout buyin’ me a lifetime supply?”

Groaning, you playfully shove at his chest, only to have him wrap you up in his arms. “I guess I was serious.”

“Hmm, ya don’t sound too serious ‘bout it, bird. But that’s okay, I got all tha honey I need right here,” he replies, planting a kiss atop your head nuzzled into his neck, swaying you back and forth. Nodding, you finally let yourself relax for the first time in weeks at the greeting of his sweet smell. One that feels like home to you. “Wait, yer students said we should be togetha? That’s funny, cuz so did mine.”

167 notes · View notes

wosofan14 · 4 years

Text

Jackie Groenen House Tour Interview - 22/10/20 (Rough English Translation) 

Little note - The format of the interview was a little weird. The interviewer guy was very random with what he said, so some things in the translation are very random. But other than that, the video was super interesting. Hope you enjoy the translation :)

 Interviewer: Welcome to a brand new episode of “Inside”, a show where we get an inside look into the houses of professional footballers, e-sports players, Youtubers etc... I’m very excited about today’s guest, as we get to go international on this episode. We are going all the way to Manchester, England to get an inside look in Jackie Groenen’s house.

*On screen text* Woonkamer = Living Room

Badkamer = Bathroom

Slaapkamer = Bedroom

Logeerkamer = Guest Bedroom

Balkan = Balcony

Interviewer: There is an Easter egg hidden in this video, so if you pay attention, then you can spot it, then you’ll have a chance to win some cool prizes. If you’re as excited as I am about this video, don’t forget to like this video and subscribe to the channel to not miss any cool videos. Hopefully after this video, there will be more people that will want to give house tours. Or not, I’d also understand if no one wanted to show me their house. Haha just joking. Now let’s ring the (imaginary) doorbell, or we can knock. Please ignore the huge headphones I am wearing.

Jackie: Hi Matthy (interviewer’s name) and viewers of this show. Welcome to the tour of my crib and welcome to Manchester!

Jackie: Come on inside, this is the hall. I can’t show you too much of the guest bedroom, as my dad is currently visiting. He is also currently filming this video and he’s filming for the first time, so don’t be too cruel on him.

Interviewer: I think your father is doing very well to be fair.

Jackie: Because of the current situation we are in, I’ve frequently had people sleep over and it’s been fun, as it’s meant that I haven’t been alone very often. Now here is my fantastic closet with, if I’m being honest, way too many clothes in it. And I see my father is already looking a little bored behind the camera, as this is his least favourite part.

Interviewer: Yes, I could hear him sigh deeply or take a deep breath behind the camera. You could also see him in the reflection of the closet.

Jackie: This is Mimo (it’s a cushion of a bunny) and he’s my best friend’s bunny. I’ve been able to take this cushion of with me so that I can always think about Mimo and Jenny because I miss them a lot when I’m here in Manchester. I also have a sweater here from training with Manchester United. As most of you will probably already know, I’ve always played with number 14 and I’m lucky enough to be able to play with that number here at Manchester United as well. That’s something I’m very proud of if I’m being honest. I’ve always been a huge fan of Johan Cruyff and I’m always very proud whenever I get to wear the number 14.

Interviewer: Very cool.

Jackie: Alright, here we have the first bathroom. I’ve never actually watched MTV Cribs before, so I don’t really know how people present their bathrooms to the camera.

Interviewer: I’ve never watched MTV Cribs either, but I can tell you that this is a very nice bathroom.

Jackie: People brush their teeth here.

Interviewer: (laughs). I hope that people brush their teeth in the bathroom. People at home, if you don’t brush your teeth, then start now!

Jackie: One of my favourite things about my apartment is obviously my bedroom.

Interviewer: If you have the same bed in your own bedroom as you do in your guest bedroom, then you know that the guests are really well cared for. That is really good to see. I’m adding points on for that!

Jackie: Another of my favourite things about my house is the view. At the moment, you can’t see too much because of the rain. That gives you a good idea about what the weather is like in Manchester.

Interviewer: I was just about to say, that’s typical in Manchester. The view is really pretty though.

Jackie: And here is my very very first guitar. I began playing on this guitar in Frankfurt. I take this guitar with me if I ever go with the girls to the park or somewhere like that. I’m still very careful with it though, as it’s my first ever guitar

Interviewer: I used to play guitar as well. The fact that you have the courage to play the guitar in front of a crowd of in public is very impressive and something I never would have done. I am intrigued though to know how long you’ve played the guitar for.

Jackie: Ummmm I think I’ve been playing the guitar for around 3 years, but I’ve only started taking it more seriously in the past 6 months or so with taking lessons. In Germany, I also had some lessons, but there weren’t very many of them. At the moment though, I play a lot and take a lot more lessons than I used to. I try to have 1-2 lessons every week and I try and play as much as I can before I go to bed so that I can keep improving. I’m still not very good, but I can play some songs. For example, if my dad is sitting on the couch in the evening, or if we are sitting by the heater, I always find it fun to then play a song on my guitar. Slowly but surely, I’m getting better and better at playing.

Interviewer: *says something about the Easter egg in the video and not wanting to spoil anything*

Jackie: Moving on, this is my record player. I’m obsessed with LPs and I find it lovely to put some music on in the evening before I go to bed. Because of my dad, most of my LPs are from the 70s and 80s.

Interviewer: *sees Black Stories in the cabinet* Black Stories is a fantastic game. It’s good to see that you play that game too. But LPs are old music aren’t they? I see and LP of the Beatles, which I like listening too as well. No modern music ever comes out on LPs though, so what do you listen to? Do you only listen to older music?

Jackie: There’s a bit of everything here. 80s music, Beatles, Queen, Jeff Buckley. My absolute favourite LP though is this one of Jim Croce. My dad first introduced me to his music and now I listen to it nonstop. I also love Fleetwood Mac, which is in the record player right now.

Interviewer: I think that most of the people watching this show will have never heard of Jim Croce. This type music is really not something I would enjoy listening to. But I do like that you have such a specific taste in music. You could have also listened to the Top 40 or Despacito.

Jackie: This is something that might be nice to show everyone. I feel like I don’t look at it enough, but I always enjoy holding it. This is the medal from when we became European Champions in 2017. I also have the silver medal from the World Cup in 2019 here where we got 2nd place and lost against the USA. Hopefully now everyone has forgotten about that though (laughs).

Interviewer: That’s still super cool though. A silver medal from the World Cup and a gold medal from the Euros is something that not many footballers can say they’ve achieved.

Jackie: Moving onto my nightstand, I have a picture of all my friends. One of my friends made this painting of us. She’s a very good artist. This is actually my friendgroup, and this painting reminds me of them a lot. And umm... (picks up book of crossword puzzles)

Interviewer: Yes! Zweedse Puzzelboekje (crossword puzzles). Those puzzles are so fun people!

Jackie: I know, I’m old (I guess because she likes doing those types of puzzles that makes her old).

Interviewer: If you’re old then I’m old too.

Jackie: Alright, on to the second bathroom. I think they call this an en-suite. Here is also a place where people brush their teeth.

Jackie: Alright, moving on again. Welcome to my living room/kitchen. This is the room where I study a lot. I also have my Player of the Match award from the World Cup semi-final game against Sweden.

Interviewer: A Player of the Match award is so cool to get, and especially in the semi-finals of a World Cup. It doesn’t even seem that much smaller than the trophy you’d get if you won the whole competition. Obviously they can’t give the big trophy to everyone though. That award is still super cool though.

Jackie: This is my most recent player of the match award from last Sunday from the game against Tottenham.

Interviewer: I think they have those awards in the Premier League for every game as well. Super cool that you have one of those.

Jackie: Someday I’ll make a nice decoration with all these Player of the Match awards.

Jackie: Welcome to my kitchen! I’ll give you guys a small look at what’s in my refrigerator. There’s not too many interesting things in here. I have some fruit and some yoghurt in my fridge.

Interviewer: I think I see some vanilla yoghurt or honey, one of those two things. There are lots of Dutch foods in the fridge though, which is good to see even if you’re in Manchester.

Jackie: Something that is more fun to tell you about is my guilty pleasure. I am obsessed with beschuit met muisjes (a sort of cake like thing with sprinkles - it’s a little hard to explain, so here’s a link to a picture: https://www.iamexpat.nl/lifestyle/lifestyle-news/strange-and-funny-dutch-traditions-beschuit-met-muisjes). I always have some beschuit and some muisjes here, as my dad always brings them for me from the Netherlands.

Interviewer: I assume that they don’t have De Ruijter (company that makes muisjes and hagelslag) in England, so it’s good to see that there’s still lots of Dutch foods in your kitchen in England.

 Jackie: On to the living room, and this is where I relax a lot. I lay on the couch a lot to recover after trainings. For me, this is the most comfy part of the house. I’m always ver relaxed here.

Interviewer: I see another guitar there.

Jackie: Now, this second guitar is one of my most prized possessions. I bought this right before the lockdown and I am really proud of this guitar. I try and play some songs on it as much as I can in the evening.

Interviewer: Now this is the third or fourth time that music has come up on this tour and the second or third time that the guitar has come up. I don’t know if I dare to ask you this, but Jackie, I think that you should play a little bit of a song for the viewers of the show and for me.

Jackie: Now, I don’t play very much on camera because I’m not very good yet.

*plays song and sings*

Interviewer: I did not expect this at all! Jackie can sing! You acted as if you were shy and didn’t want to play the guitar, but then you started singing as well.

Jackie: The song goes on like that for a while, and for the viewers, anyone who can guess that song has a good taste in music.

Interviewer: Unfortunately, I do not know that song. Clearly I don’t have much knowledge about music.

Jackie: Another fun little thing to know is that since the lockdown, I have a Nintendo switch. I must say that I’ve used this quite a lot. Especially when some of my teammates where living with me in my house and we all played Mario Kart. A little secret about that that I have to tell you as well is that we always used the Player of the Match award from the World Cup to hold conversations and give a little speech (thanking your parents friends, etc - think about thank you speeches after awards ceremeonies) thanking people after someone won a game of Mario Kart.

Jackie: This is my balcony.

Interviewer: That’s really high up.

Jackie: It’s really nice to have. I’ll point to some things now.

*points* Here are some restaurants that I would usually eat at frequently.

*points again* That’s one of my dad’s favourite restaurants.

Interviewer: I’m not very familiar with the city of Manchester and I don’t recognize the area that you live in, but is the stadium close to your apartment?

Jackie: *points towards stadium* The Man United stadium is right over there behind that building. It’s about a 10 minute walk away from my apartment. I go there quite a bit as well.

Interviewer: A 10 minute walk?! That’s so nice to have the stadium so close.

Jackie: So, from rainy Manchester, I’d like to say thank you for watching my crib tour. I hope you enjoyed watching, and I hope to see everyone very soon again in the Netherlands. Bye!

Interviewer’s report of Jackie’s crib tour:

Inside Challenge: 5/5. I think that everyone who saw that was flabbergasted by your singing.

Football Factor: 3,25/5. The location relative to the stadium is perfect for a footballer. The fact that you can walk 10 minutes to the training as well is so nice to have as a footballer.

Food: 5/5 I saw a lot of Dutch food there, and you also get some bonus points for the beschuit met muisjes.

Chill area: 2,75/5. The chill area was okay. I don’t think you need much room for a chill area as long as there is somewhere to brush your teeth (laughs).

Final score: 4,5/5

#jackie groenen #translations

18 notes · View notes

burberryharold · 4 years

Text

Alone Together

Part One

Hello, guys! I’ve finally come around to writing my first fanfic on Tumblr and to say that I’m excited would be an understatement. I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’m hoping you guys like it; Alone Together follows the journey of Ellie and Harry through this rough period of quarantine. It’s just a little something I thought of and decided to have fun with it and make the best out of the current situation, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! This is gonna be a series but I haven’t settled on how long it’s gonna be yet, but for now here’s Part One of Alone Together.

February 25th, Tuesday

Ellie huffed and wiped her forehead, taking notice of the dark strands of hair clinging onto her face from the sweat. She deeply regretted sending off the moving people, insisting that she can handle the rest of the boxes herself. Big mistake. She was by no means weak or incapable of lifting heavy items, but after a long day of moving back and forth from her old flat to her new one, Ellie was absolutely exhausted. In retrospect, she realised that she should not have moved all of her things in one day, but it’s too late, she has to face the consequences of her decision. Damn me for thinking that this was a good idea, Ellie thought to herself.

Staring at the boxes in the hallway in hopes that they would magically move themselves, Ellie failed to notice that someone walked out of the elevator and was heading in her direction.

“Ellie? Ellie Heart? Is that you?” a deep yet familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Ellie’s hand flew to her chest as she gasped at the sudden voice, “Bloody hell, you scared the shit out of me!”

She finally opened her eyes to look at the person as he chuckled; her jaw dropped at the familiar sights of chocolate curls and green eyes. “Harry? What? What are you doing here?” she questioned with wide eyes.

Her heart fluttered at the sight of him; she had not seen Harry in quite a while and was shocked to see him standing outside of her new flat. “Are you stalking me, Styles? Is that what this is?” she jokingly narrowed her eyes at him, resting her hands on her hips.

Harry ‘s bright eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Oh yes, Heart, that’s exactly what I’m doing, you caught me.” He raised his hands in surrender.

Ellie's smile widened at his words and she started taking in his attire. He was sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie with “Treat People With Kindness” printed on it, despite it being an abnormally warm afternoon. She smiled at his choice of outfit and decided to tease him for it, “Nice hoodie you got there, Harry, I see you’re still your usual narcissistic self.”

Harry threw his head back in laughter at her words, “Good to see that you’re still as funny as I remember you, Ellie, it’s been a while.” He flashed her another bright smile and gestured to the boxed discarded along the hallway, “I take it that you’re just moving in?”

Ellie nodded, suddenly remembering that she’s standing in front of him drenched in sweat and looking disheveled, while he managed to look like he just stepped out of a runway, despite his casual outfit. “Just moved literally all of my things here today, which was a huge mistake if I’m being honest, but yeah.” She paused after taking notice of the grocery bags resting beside his feet, “Wait, do you live here as well?”

There were only three flats on this floor, hers, the one right across from her, and another just at the end of the hallway. “This is me, just moved in here recently actually,” Harry pointed at the door beside him, “My house is being fumigated because of bloody termites and I’ve been meaning to do some renovations, so this seemed like an appropriate time. Can’t go back home for a few weeks so.”

A shy smile made its way onto Ellie’s lips, “Guess we’ll be neighbours for the meantime then, huh?”

She marveled at the sight of his dimples, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Ellie tried to ignore the way her heart started pounding faster at the prospect of having Harry so close to her for a few weeks. It’s just a little crush, El, let it go.

Ellie being a huge fan of Harry is no secret to anyone that knows her, not even to Harry himself she fears. Even as a One Direction-obsessed teenager, she’s always paid Harry a little extra attention. When his debut album came out, Ellie was beyond ecstatic. She had known that Harry was a fan of artists like the Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac, and she definitely felt their influences on him in music, both in his solo career and in One Direction. So, despite being absolutely devastated that the band is on a hiatus, Ellie can’t deny that she is enjoying their solo careers.

They had originally met back in 2014 when Julian Bunnetta first introduced them to each other. She’d known Julian for about a year, having worked on a number of songs with him. She was no stranger to his close relationship to the band, but she had never expected to ever meet any of the members. Needless to say, Ellie was floored when she saw Julian approaching her, at the party he dragged her to, with the tall, handsome boy beside him.

Julian smirked at her wide eyes, “El, this is Harry, but you already knew that,” he sent her a wink. “H, this is Ellie, the songwriter I’ve been telling you about.”

Had she heard him correctly? Did he just say that he has talked about her to Harry Styles?

Ellie had to pull herself together as the boy smiled in recognition, “Hello, Ellie, it’s good to finally meet you! Been hearing a lot of things about you, this guy won’t stop talking about how insanely talented you are.”

Ellie thinks she’s about to faint.

She’s met a couple of celebrities from working alongside Julian, but she has never been this starstruck before. And the fact that Julian has been praising her songwriting talent in front of Harry does not help ease her erratic heartbeat.

“I- uh- thanks?” She wanted to facepalm. “You too- I mean, um, thank you, I’m such a huge fan of you guys.”

Harry chuckled at her response, “Thank you, Julian may or may not have mentioned that before.”

She narrowed her eyes at Julian, who had an amused expression on his face. “Oh yeah, told him all about your crazy obsession with him.”

“Julian!” Ellie groaned and covered her face with her hands, feeling the warmth rushing to her cheeks, “You bloody knobhead, I hate you.”

“Don’t worry, love” Harry laughed, “he only had good things to say about you, and if anything, I’m flattered.”

Ever since that night, they’ve only ran into each other two other times, which Ellie was disappointed about. Once when she had worked with the band on What A Feeling, and another back in January 2019. Ellie was surprised when her friend Tom Hull called her one night and invited her to the studio, saying that he and a friend of his were struggling with a song and he wanted her help. She hadn’t hesitated and went to meet him the following day at a studio in Malibu. What Tom had failed to mention was that his friend was Harry Styles, who was working on his second album.

Her eyes had noticeably widened when they fell upon the tall figure standing in the corner, talking to someone on the phone. She immediately darted towards her friend and pinched his arm, “You didn’t think to tell me that Harry was here?” she whispered-exclaimed. A wide grin painted Tom’s lips, “Thought I’d surprise you.”

Since then, after spending a whole day helping them with the verse and the bridge on a song called Canyon Moon, Ellie hasn’t seen the rockstar. Until now.

She didn’t even think it was possible for him to look any more beautiful than he already is, but he’s managed to prove her wrong. The light stubble and mustache that graced his face made him look more mature; she remembered how he had once complained about not being able to grow any facial hair, but it seems like that has changed.

Looking that good should be a crime, she thought to herself.

Harry cleared his throat, pulling her out of her thoughts yet again, “D’you need any help with that?”

Ellie was about to shake her head and refuse, but then she bit her lip and paused. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s exhausted, or if she just misses his presence and wants him around her for a little bit longer. She figured it was a combination of both, and that’s why she found herself saying “Actually, yeah, I’d really appreciate that.”

“Hold on a minute,” he pointed to the bags in his hands and gestured to his flat, “gotta put those inside first.”

Ellie was busy hauling a box that held her cutlery and plates into her kitchen when she heard Harry calling out for her. “Love? Where do you want me to put this?”

She tried not to think of the pet name, assuring herself that that’s just who Harry is; he’s always friendly and charming, calling people around him “love” or “sweetheart”, but it makes her heart skip a beat nevertheless.

The box had “Bedroom” messily written on it and so she pointed towards the hallway on her left, “Just down the hallway, first room on the right, please.”

His short curls bounced as he nodded his head and carried the box to her room with ease. She couldn’t help but stare at the way his arms flexed holding the box; he’d changed from his sweatshirt into a fitted black t-shirt, emphasising his muscles.

Ellie silently scolded herself for staring and went back out to the hallway, carrying yet another box. This one, however, was much heavier than the rest. She had packed all of her vases together and now sees how it was a bad idea. God, Ellie, you’re just making dumb decisions left and right, she thought silently.

She groaned as the box weighed her down and struggled to not drop it. “Hey, hey, let me.”

Harry suddenly appeared in front of her, reaching his hands out to take the box. In the process, his hands brushed hers and it took everything in Ellie to not drop the box. She felt like a silly kid, freaking out over touching a boy’s hand, but this was Harry. The same Harry who she admired and has had a crush on for as long as she can remember; she can’t just ignore the feeling of his soft hands against hers.

Get it together, Ellie.

“Thank you,” she flashed him a guilty smile, “careful, that one’s heavy.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Harry smirked and held the box as if it was as light as a feather, flexing his arms in the process, “see these guns over here? They can handle anything.”

She stopped herself from staring at his arms yet again and instead rolled her eyes, “Okay then, Superman, go put that in the living room, please.”

Harry let out a laugh and made his way towards her living room, making a show of flexing his arms and looking at her over his shoulders.

Ellie really missed him.

Once Harry and Ellie had finished moving everything into her flat, she invited him to have a drink and a little chat, to which he delightfully agreed.

After settling comfortably into the couch, with a bottle of beer in his hand, Harry turned his body towards Ellie’s and smiled, “How have you been then? Haven’t seen each other in a long time now, haven’t we?”

Ellie relaxed into her couch and nodded, “Yeah, a little over a year since I last saw you and Tommy at the studio.”

“I’ve worked on a few projects since then,” she took a sip of her drink then shook her head, “no, actually, I have worked on a lot of projects and I’ve decided to just take a break from it all.”

“A break? How come?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “I remember you saying you loved writing all the time, in fact, think you said that you couldn’t go on a day without writing at least a few lines.”

Ellie’s insides almost melted at his soft, slow voice; she’s always loved the way Harry spoke.

“I did yeah, but everyone needs a little break sometimes,” the corners of her lips turned a little upwards, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t feel as inspired as I used to be, felt like I was just a machine producing lyrics, so I figured now is a good time to take a break and be free of any pressures.”

Harry held her gaze for a second before nodding his head. “Yeah, I get that,” he said with a soft tone, “sometimes even the thing you love doing the most can get exhausting.”

Ellie breathed out a soft sigh, knowing the meaning behind his words.

“Well, look at you now, you’re the one in complete control, aren’t ya?” she nudged his thigh with her foot that was resting on the couch. He smiled at her words.

“Loved the new album, by the way,” she sat upright, as if she suddenly remembered that he released his second album not too long ago. “Never got to congratulate you on that.”

A bright smile graced Harry’s face. “Really? You did?”

She hummed in affirmation, “How could I not? It’s so fucking good. The lyrics, the melodies, everything. You were amazing, H.”

Ellie didn’t realise what she called him until the words were out of her mouth, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. She was well aware that they were not exactly friends, having met only a few times, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Harry avoided her gaze and bashfully stared at his lap, “Thank you, means a lot coming from you.”

A blush burned its way to Ellie’s cheeks, wondering what he meant exactly by that, but she didn’t question it.

“Uh,” Harry cleared his throat before continuing, “what’s your favourite song then?” He asked, looking up at her through his dark lashes.

“Oh that is a tough question,” Ellie set her drink down on the coffee table and turned to him, a serious expression etched on her face. “This is gonna take a while.”

After an intense and thorough explanation of why she can’t simply choose one favourite song off of Fine Line— because, Harry, I love every song too fucking much— Ellie noticed that she’s kept Harry busy for the last two hours.

Ellie started panicking. I wasted so much of his time! What if he didn’t even want to hang out with me?

“Oh God, Harry, I’m so sorry,” she started apologising, feeling her hands getting clammy, “I’ve wasted two hours of your time and you probably had things to do-”

Frowning at her words, Harry abruptly sat up from his previous laid back position on the couch. “’course you didn’t waste my time, love, don’t say that,”

“I didn’t have anything else to do today. Went out to do a shop and I planned to stay in and watch movies, so I’m glad I ran into you.”

Ellie’s shoulders visibly relaxed and a smile made its way onto her lips, “I’m glad I ran into you too, it was nice catching up.”

She had definitely missed the curly-haired boy; she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that he’s sitting right here on her couch, but she knew he had to go soon.

“It was, and I really hope we don’t spend another year without seeing each other again.”

Warmth coursed through her body. Me too.

Harry‘s mouth opened and closed, seeming as if he had something to say then decided against it. She noticed he was playing around with the rings on his fingers, twisting them around.

“Tell you what,” Harry started, turning his focus towards her again, “how about I give you my number? You know, in case of emergency or anything since we’re neighbours now.”

Ellie mentally cursed her genes as she could feel herself blushing again, for absolutely no reason. She’s always been the type of person to get flustered and blush at everything, just like her father. Be cool, Ellie, or he’s gonna think you’re weird.

She merely nodded her head in response and mechanically handed him her phone. Harry chuckled at her and grabbed the small device. He put in his number and gave her the device back, having put his contact name as “H. Styles”

“Just text me so I know it’s you, yeah?” he rose from the couch, stretching his muscles from sitting for too long. Ellie stood up too and walked him to the door, watching as he made his way into his own flat across the hall.

After unlocking his door, Harry turned back to face her. “Have a good night, yeah? Don’t hesitate to call or text me if you need any help, okay?”

Ellie wanted to take a picture of him right then and there. The dim lights in the hallway cast a soft glow on his face, making his features look even more ethereal and soft.

“You too,” She pulled a few strands of her hair behind her ear and leaned her body against her door frame. “And thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”

He flashed her another smile and put up his hand in a small wave, the both of them backing up into their own flats and ready to close the door.

Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting or if Harry was really blushing, but she likes to think that it was the latter.

Once she made it back into her living room, she picked up her phone and typed in a new message.

“Hey, it’s me, your weird neighbour across the hall :)”

And that’s all for part one guys! What do you think about it? This part is short because I’m just introducing the story and our main character Miss Ellie Heart, but the next ones are gonna be longer so brace yourselves. I’m so glad to finally get back to writing! Everyone is quarantined at home because of COVID-19 and I have more time on my hands now to write. Let me know what you think about this and if you’d like to read the next part, I’d really love to know what you guys think!

Remember, stay home and stay safe xx

#Alone Together #Harry Styles #Harry Styles imagines #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles blurbs #Harry Styles writing #Harry Styles fluff

102 notes · View notes

thecostumevaultblog · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by the absolutely lovely @petegoestotown

Rules: answer 10 questions, tag 10 people and make another 10 questions.

⭐️My Questions⭐️

1. Favourite album?

Like, it changes every half a year. I get obsessed easily… Right now it’s Harry Styles’ Fine Line, but I’ve also been absolutely obsessed with Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors, and Green Day’s American Idiot. I’m very eclectic in my taste…and a bit ashamed of the fact, to be honest.

2. Who were you in a past life?

I like to think I was Elisabeth of Austria (Sissi). You know the type, glamorous, rich and miserable. But, knowing my luck, I probably was just a fisherman’s wife who died of malnourishment and bad medical care during the delivery of her fifth child or something like that.

3. Airdrumming or airguitar?

Definitely airdrumming. I’m traumatized with guitar playing… and that’s a way too long story for today.

4. Where would you travel in time if you could?

Realistically, back to 2012 and go through collage again. Those were fun times.

But for funsies sake, Spain in the 1550’s just because I love the women’s fashion and England in the 1880’s for pretty much the same reason.

Big gowns are literally the only reason anyone would persuade me to go back in time. I’m pretty sure that at whatever point I went back I would end up either being burned at the stake for heresy, hanged for witchcraft or sent to an asylum for “hysteria”. I’ve never been a lucky gal.

5. Do you play a sport? Which?

Satan, get away from me! I hate all and any sports and have made a life goal never to play one.

6. What weird food combinations do you enjoy?

I don’t have any… I think. I’m pretty vanilla with my food choices. The only thing I seem to love that all non-mediterraneans I’ve meet seem to think it’s disgusting is olives. But that’s not a food combination.

7. Do you think aliens exist?

Yes, probably. But I doubt they're even remotely similar to humans. They are probably bacteria or something like that.

8. Who’s your favourite stand up comedian?

I don’t really have a favourite, because I don’t watch much stand up comedy, but I loved the bits I saw Trevor Noah do.

9. What movie or book do you know the most quotes from?

Anything by Shakespeare. I am shit at remembering book quotes. But my memory is not so bad with film. So, also Lord of the Rings, Cyrano de Bergerac and anything from the Disney Animation Studio.

10. How old were you when you had your first celebrity crush and who was it?

I was about 9, and it was Orlando Bloom. I promise it was all very innocent and pure... I was really young. *So embarrassing*

my questions ~

1. what would you put into your own created salad?

Oh, I do this all the time. I love this salad: lentils, tuna fish, olives, sweet corn, cherry tomatoes, grated celery, grated beet, crab sticks and mozzarella. It’s amazing!

2. what would your call your garage band?

Loudly Whispers

3. which planet has the prettiest name in your opinion (in our solar system)?

Mercury. Don’t know why…

4. night mode or day mode on your phone?

Day mode! Night mode makes the screen look too green for me. It’s too much like the Matrix!

5. what was your fav childhood series?

It was an animated show called “Papyrus”. It was a French production, but it got translated to a bunch of different languages and I used to watch it in Catalan on TV. I just loved Ancient Egypt growing up…

6. what was the worst book you ever read voluntary?

50 Shades of Grey. Before you lose all respect for me… it wasn’t exactly voluntary… My aunt gave it to me as a present because “you said you like to read!” and I thought that it would be nice actually reading the book and be able to criticize it knowing the full extend of the thing.

7. if you could only ever eat fish or meat, what would you choose? (if youre a vegetarian:high five)

I couldn’t be a vegetarian… I would say fish.

8. if someone gave you a DVD with all the times people talked about you behind your back, would you watch it?

Oh dear! Oh dear! Don’t do this to me. I would throw it away only to get drunk thinking about what must be in there and proceed to fish it out and cry-watch it while intoxicated. And then be depressed and hating myself for watching it for a month.

9. pen or pencil?

Pen

10. whos your fav tumblr blogs? send them a nice message!

@tourdeforced, @tallulalusa, @thehowlingghost, @petegoestotown, @23-tiny-wishes, @kitty-rushes-in, @elleisforlovee, @vendelaberglin, @nails-n-glam, @weloveperioddrama, @lalilaloli, @pristina-nomine

I adore all of you and make me smile every-time you post! <3

my questions:

1. did a book or movie change your life or majorly shifted your views on a topic?

Not so much changed my life or my mind on anything… but I was really shaken after watching the James Baldwin documentary I Am Not Your Negro. Like, it showed me nothing new or nothing that I didn’t think already, but it phrased it in such a poetic and yet poignant way that it absolutely shook me to my core.

2. you’re allowed to dress in the style of one youth culture only for the rest of your life, which one do you choose?

The depressed Goth… I wanted so bad to be Goth, but my mum wouldn’t let me buy the pertinent clothing to achieve it.

3. what type of gifts do you love to receive?

I’m so picky with gifts… because my taste is so niche and I’m obsessive with the most obscure things that people sort of tend to miss the mark. Still, with that in mind, I love to receive films and books as gifts, because even if it’s not about whatever topic I’m currently fixated on, there’s always something of interest in them.

I hate being gifted knick-knacks, I want thinks that allow me to find something in them.

4. do you know your MBTI type?

MBTI? What is that? Well, I guess that definitely answers your question.

5. would you like to have dinner with a time Traveller from the future or with your favourite author?

Favourite author. I don’t want to be told how humanity ends.

6. would you run your country for a year?

Nop. Not a chance. I would be terrified of being unable to fix the things I think need to change. And I’m terrified of messing up.

7. which piece of art would you like to own?

Shit. Every single one of them?

If I had to choose one, though, it would be Velázquez’s Las Meninas. Such a shame it wouldn’t fit my apartment.

8. do you have pet peeves?

There’s people who don’t? I hate when people bend the page on a book to mark it. I hate when people invite themselves to my house. I hate when people leave things out of their proper place… and many, many more.

9. which fictional character is a lot like you?

I don’t really know…mmm… I’ve been told Monica, from Friends. I’ve been told a lot I look like Leia… But I would say, Alma from The Phantom Thread if she used sass and self-depreciating humor to hide her vulnerability. Don’t really know what that says about me…

10. a quote you’d like to share:

“I will no longer mutilate and destroy myself in order to find a secret behind the ruins.” Herman Hesse

💖 MY QUESTIONS 💖

1. What’s your favourite thing to do alone?

2. What’s the thing you always carry in your purse?

3. A book or a film that stayed with you long after you finished it?

4. Have you ever gone to the movies and payed to watch a film you knew wasn’t worth it?

5. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

6. What’s the one food you can’t live without?

7. Period dramas. Yay or Nay

8. What thing in your daily routine would you pay not to have to do?

9. What was the one thing you had to cancel due to the Covid Crisis that made you want to throw a tantrum?

10. What language would you like to learn?

@petegoestotown this was FUN! Thanks! I’m currently very bored and this is the perfect entertainment! Lots of love and don’t stop tagging me!

Now, the part that makes me sort of uncomfortable… I tag the usual people @tourdeforced, @tallulalusa, @thehowlingghost, @23-tiny-wishes, @kitty-rushes-in, @elleisforlovee, @vendelaberglin, @nails-n-glam, @weloveperioddrama, @lalilaloli, @pristina-nomine, please feel free to ignore me if I’m tiresome. Also, everyone else who wants to participate!

#tag game

5 notes · View notes

marlbros · 4 years

Text

⋆* ❪ ⛓️ ❫ ⤻ crashes through a brick wall like the kool - aid man hi i’m paige & i’m here to present you with neels , who is a piece of coal put under a lot of pressure but instead of a diamond he just turned into cubic zirconium . if this appeals to u , drop a like & i’ll come collect .

ʻ / let me introduce you to a prized member of our student government , cornelius ‘ neels ’ rockefeller . this cis male virgo has been a student at our institution for seven years and is currently a 21 year old junior . through the halls , he has always reminded me of timothée chalamet , but there is always more than meets the eye , like the fact that both of his parents are having affairs and he’s the only one who knows . coral cape has made their future just as bright as their smile , i assure you . ʼ

basics

→ name cornelius andrew rockefeller → nicknames neels → age / d.o.b. twenty one , 23rd august 1998 → gender / pronouns cis male / he & him → dominant hand left

lifestyle

→ born new york city , new york , usa → current residence portland , maine , usa → spoken languages english → major finance → clubs student government , golf team → drink / smoke / drugs yes / like an absolute chimney / rarely

character

→ moral alignment true neutral → mbti istj - t → zodiac virgo → tarot card seven of cups → archetype the achiever

first born son of his half of the rockefeller clan , it’s never been a secret that neels was favoured by his father . though only minutes older than his twin sister arden , the amount of pressure put on his shoulders by their paternal figure was enough to turn him into a fine dust . it was never difficult for neels to get what he wanted from his dad , as the golden boy / prodigal son . but best believe that every joy ride he ever took in the mercedes & every cent he ever spent of his father’s money was earned . ⤻ the eldest rockefeller man was very straight - forward about his expectations for neels —- attend cape coral , study finance , and follow directly in his illustrious footsteps . for now , neels is still walking that unforgiving tightrope .

basically neels is not #smart , but the amount of effort he always put into school was borderline obscene . he started building his educational resume the first day of his freshman year , morphing himself into a real future leaders of america type and sidelining any and all unrelated interests . he’s very dedicated to his own success , because he’s always wanted to do well without his family’s connections . ⤻ literally the only subject he’s never had to bust his ass at is math . the man’s a math guru , esp when it comes to money math . money makes the world go ‘round , and neels learned that from a young age . his affinity for finance is essentially what’s keeping his relationship with his father afloat , and you can catch him doing everybody’s taxes come filing season .

my man cornelius is all about the emotional extremes . he feels everything very deeply , no matter how much he wishes he didn’t . he has a terrible , terrible hair - trigger temper , one that can be set off by the drop of a hat . it doesn’t show its face very often , but it doesn’t help that he’s lowkey kind of a spoiled brat lmao . on the other side of the coin , he’s a very caring individual that wants the best for the people he loves , and is the worst kind of free falling hopeless romantic . he's in love with at least 4 people at all times . ⤻ he has a tendency to push away the people that are good for him and attract the people that might hurt him . his usual m.o. is finding the tiniest thing he doesn’t like about somebody and using that as an excuse to cut them off . mans can’t keep a friend or a lover to save his gd life . the only people he’s had as constants in his life are his twin sister and the rest of his family .

he’s currently the only member of his family that knows that both his mother and his father are having separate affairs . he’s known about his father’s for a few months after seeing some incriminating text messages while they were out to lunch , but his mother’s is a new discovery . he hasn’t told either of his siblings , mostly because he wants to protect them from such a shitty piece of information lol . he’s a steel trap , though tbh his parents don’t deserve his secrecy .

quick fun facts

⤻ my man loves a good suit . he’s been rocking slacks and trousers since he was twelve , he loves a good designer piece , and if you see him wearing jeans , something is terribly wrong . like seriously amiss .

⤻ he chain smokes like fuck . only marlboro reds ‘cause he likes the way they hurt the back of his throat .

⤻ he’s obsessed with basketball . his favourite team is the knicks , he knows everything about them including all the players’ stats and the two years they’ve won the nba championship . can he play basketball ? fuck no . but he still loves the game lol .

⤻ he’s a music hoe . neels rockefeller will only listen to one band , and that band is fleetwood mac . i hate him . not only will he only listen to them , but he’ll also only listen to them on vinyl . he’s disgusting .

⤻ wine mom alert . this boy loves a good red . he loves a dry chardy in the afternoon , and a spicy merlot in the evening . hand him a wine spritzer and maybe he’ll stop being so fuckin moody .

wanted connections

⤻ the one friend he managed to keep . he’s shit at maintaining relationships , but for one reason or another , this person decided to stick around . he appreciates them big time , but he’ll never admit to it , so don’t hold ur breath .

⤻ exes . ex - lovers or ex - friends , he’s rolling in them . the worst at being a good friend or boyfriend . the worst . very stand - offish , never shares his feelings . i truly feel bad for anyone ever involved with him .

⤻ bad influence . listen , i don’t even wanna say that they’re a bad influence , they’re just somebody who can manage to get him to pull the stick out of his ass for a second and have fun . must be willing to hear about the knicks and / or fleetwood mac if u intend to give him alcohol .

⤻ studdy buddies . he needs #help . though he’s majoring in finance and math is his strong suit , he struggles with virtually everything else . someone aid him lol .

⤻ gossip queens . these two get together and tell secrets over white wine and neels gives them unsolicited fashion advice in a dry voice lmao . he loves a good juicy piece of gossip , much to his dismay —- so this person is likely semi - important to him .

⤻ the crush . listen he’s not made of stone . in fact , he’s actually very mushy on the inside and he does fall for people even if it’s only momentarily lol .

⤻ literally anything else , please hit me up .

#capecoral:intro #: - D

12 notes · View notes

nostallgias · 4 years

Text

☆ . * ( kristine froseth, cis female, she / her ) hey, look !! indigo ‘indie’ dahl aka @nostalgias is online and ready to write another anonymous post on the broken hearts club. rumor has it they’re here because she ran away from her hometown to escape her family and ex lover. out in the real world she is a musician / bartender. the 22 year old is known for being flighty & impetuous but make up for it by being vivacious & determined. if they were to describe themselves they’d say they’re chipped nail polish, lipstick stains on cigarettes, driving with the window down and their favorite song is gold dust woman by fleetwood mac.

hello everyone, i’m so happy 2 b in this rp !!! my name is diana, i’m twenty yrs old, a libra, and reside in the est timezone. some quick facts abt me ... i am a girl group stan and lana del rey enthusiast. i also luv cats. anyway, enough abt me, u can learn abt my muse indigo under the cut !!! my discord is missing blackpink hours#5522 so pls hit me up there or in the im’s for plots !! i cannot wait to get started <3 tw: briefly mentions alcoholism & drugs

☆ . * 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔 !

full name : indigo dahl

nickname(s) : indie

zodiac : sagittarius sun, gemini moon ( click )

sexuality : bisexual

alignment : chaotic good

pinterest : click

☆ . * 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 !

indie grew up in a small town where everyone knows everyone. she was restless and curious, but there wasn’t much to do in a town that small

her parents were really big on music, so there was always something playing in the household. it’s safe to say music took over her life. she started to learn guitar, then later bass

but sadly her dad left them when she was still young. she wanted him to take her with him, so she could finally get out of that stupid town, but he left her with her mother and never looked back :/

indie and her mom didn’t get along too well. she basically planned indie’s entire life out, down to who she should marry. after her father left them, her mom wasn’t rly able to cope with it too well and she kinda turned to drinking, and the music that was always playing stopped :(

indie spent her middle and high school years taking care of her mom, who was too drunk to function at all times. she couldn’t keep a job, which, was fine at first because indie’s grandparents ( her mother’s parents ) were fairly well off, and they could live off of them

that was until her grandparent’s cut them off after finally noticing their daughter was an alcoholic. so, they were pretty much left with no source of income

indie started working as soon as she was old enough. she worked two jobs in high school, which didn’t leave her much time to focus on school. she never cared for school anyway, her focus was always music, but she didn’t even have much time for that anymore

her mother seemed to have a new boyfriend every week, men who always acted like they were here to say. all of them tried to control indie, but she resented every single one of them. she could see through the lies

she spent most of her time away from home, she didn’t even like sleeping there. it didn’t feel like home anymore, and it hadn’t for a long time

one day, one of her mother’s boyfriends actually stuck around. indie just kept waiting and waiting for the day he’d leave, but he never did. her mother remarried

after remarrying, her mother kinda got her life back on track again. she immediately went back to trying to control indie again. indie absolutely hated it, but she was happy to see her mother in a good place again, so she tried to fit the mold

indie barely graduated high school and never went to college. she continued working for the next few years, saving up money and working on music

she started dating the guy her mother chose for her. it was okay at first, but the spark was always missing. the longer she was with him though, she began to realize that he wanted to stay in that stupid little town forever, and the idea of spending the rest of her life there terrified her so much she decided to runaway

so, she packed all her things and ran away in the middle of the night. she drove through the night to find her father, but when she found him, she learned he had remarried and started a new family

deep down, she always knew he didn’t want her, otherwise he would’ve made an effort over the years. but she really had to see it to believe it

and that’s how she found her way to chicago. she never told her mother where she went, but she knew she was looking for her and so was her ex

her grandparent’s send her money every once in a while, and although they aren’t close, they understand why she ran away and want her to have the chance to start fresh

she stumbled across the forum one day and decided to join it, because she was starting to feel a little lost and it has helped her a lot

☆ . * 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 !

indie is extremely extroverted. she is a social butterfly and will befriend literally anyone. the tricky part is getting close to her, though. she tends to keep her emotions to herself. she presents a version of herself to the world, one who is always happy and alive because she thinks that’s the only version of her that people will like

she has such a curious soul !! all she wants to do is explore and experience new things, so she’s always down for an adventure. she loves a good party because she loves to be around people. she’s a social drinker and drug user ( except for weed, which she smokes a lot )

indie doesn’t have any idea about what love is, but she knows she wants it. she wants a great, interesting, devoted love, but is having trouble finding it. so she tends to have a lot of lovers, but they mostly end up being casual. she gets bored easily, so if it isn’t exciting at all times, she kinda dips akjsdhsdjhk it’s her fear of abandonment

she is obsessed with the 70′s, from the music to the aesthetics. stevie nicks is her inspiration. she loves music of all eras, though. she loves thrifting, and her style is heavily influenced by 70′s fashion

she can be pretty spontaneous, but also reckless. she wants everything in life to be an adventure, so it has gotten her into trouble in the past

hates authority figures, literally she has so much trouble with respecting authority now because she feels like she wasted her entire life doing that for people who didn’t respect her

has a hard time taking things seriously, except for music because that is her entire life

☆ . * 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 !

party buddies - they always go to parties together. maybe they don’t see each other outside of parties, maybe they met at a party and became close friends afterwards

drinking / smoking buddies - someone she can drink or smoke with. maybe they have a more casual friendship, but anytime they hang out, they share some interesting conversations

confidant - someone who confides in her or someone she confides in, or they confide in each other. they don’t necessarily have to be the closest friends ever, but they get along, trust each other, and maybe they talk more in private

frenemies - they’re friends, but maybe they’re always trying to one up each other. they might gossip behind each other’s backs. sometimes they get along perfectly well, but maybe sometimes they get into stupid fights

protective friends - friends who feel extremely protective over one another. indie will literally fight anyone who hurts them

sibling-like friendship - indie is an only child, so i would love for her to have someone she sees like a sibling. they’re there for each other, look out for one another and always have each other’s backs

dynamic duo / best friend - ride or dies. platonic soulmates !! this person is probably the closest friend she has and actually knows her well ! a power duo

partner in crime - someone who always goes along with her antics. someone who she bounces off of and they do dumb / fun shit together !!! her adventure buddy

online friends - her favorite person on the forum. she is always interacting with them and is literally always the first to comment on their posts or something. maybe they confide in each other

bandmates - if your muse sings, plays guitar, bass, drums or keyboard, they can be in a band !!! indie plays guitar, bass, and also sings so she can do whichever of these is needed !! she also likes to compose music, but with bandmates they will collaborate and make stuff together of course

groupie love - i didn’t know what to call this plot so pls ignore the name, i went for a lana del rey song title aksdhsdjkh but basically maybe ur muse was there at one of the little gigs she played and they became acquainted after that !!! this can be romantic or platonic, we can plot it however. but maybe they keep going to her shows and she’s always happy to see them

flirtationship - they flirt constantly, but nothing serious has come out of their flirting. maybe they have good chemistry, but haven’t really tried to explore it further

ex-fling - maybe they ended things more recently, or maybe they ended things a few months or a year ago. they could have ended on good or bad terms. maybe someone or both of them still have feelings, or maybe they’re just friends or don’t talk now

current fling / friends w benefits - someone she is currently seeing. could be no strings attached, or there could b some feelings there. maybe they don’t want to make it anything serious, or maybe they’re ready to take it to the next level. maybe one person is ready to go further, and the other isn’t

requited / unrequited crush - maybe she has a crush on ur muse, whether it’s a deep crush or a more surface level crush. OR ur muse could have a crush on her and maybe she’s oblivious to it !!! maybe our muses have crushes on each other !!! maybe it isn’t super serious, or maybe it is

will they, won’t they - there’s feelings between them, but they haven’t made the plunge to pursue whatever they have. longing, yearning, lingering glances

take care - someone who looks after her when she parties a little too hard !!! someone she trusts who keeps her out of trouble when she’s under the influence and feeling too reckless for her own good

enemies w/ benefits - there was always underlying tension between them, even though they couldn’t really stand each other. maybe they hooked up at a party and now, despite their personal feelings towards each other, they still continue to hook up

cyber sex - once again, i didnt kno what to title this so i went for a doja cat song AJKSDSJKH but basically someone on the forum she has a crush on. i think it’s funny because she has noooo idea who they are irl but maybe they connect super well online

ex-friends - someone she used to consider a best / close friend, but they had a falling out for whatever reason n maybe they strongly dislike each other now. maybe they want to re-kindle their friendship but don’t know how

dealer - someone she buys drugs from, they could be friends or it’s strictly business

bad influence - someone indie is a bad influence on. she maybe influences them to party, drink or do drugs, or do stupid reckless things with her

good influence - someone that is a good influence on her and gets her to keep her act together. she has trouble caring about anything that isn’t music related, so this person can keep her on track

roommates - one to two people that she lives with !!! they can get along, or maybe they don’t vibe super well. but if they do get along they can do cute stuff like bake and watch movies together

coworkers - indie is a bartender, so she can work at the bar or restaurant that your muse works at

meet me at the bar - someone who frequents her job a lot. maybe they’re her favorite customer and she loves whenever they come. we can plot this out however !!!

congratulations !!! you have finally reached the end of my unnecessarily long intro aksdjhsdjhk i would like to thank u for reading and apologize for all the rambling i did <3 anyway i would luv to plot, so i’ll send message u asap if u like this post !!! we can definitely plot over im’s, but i am partial to discord if u wanna add me there: missing blackpink hours#5522

#hearts:intro #☆ . * 𝒈𝒐 𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 ╱ ooc.#this kinda got long.....i'm so sorry i rly do not deserve rights #pls plot with me anyway <3

10 notes · View notes