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amethystpath-writes · 5 months

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Entertainment

(NOT A PR0MPT)

******

“I don’t love you,” Hero said. “I won’t love you, even though they all suspect it.”

“Isn’t it disappointing?” Villain asked.

Hero only hummed in question. She felt serene despite the storm brewing in her mind. For now, she would listen.

“To make another human your source of entertainment? You are televised. You don’t see your shepherds now, but there is a show playing in their minds during this very moment. You. Naked in my bed- as if we could ever be lovers. A scandal- because no one can ever be good enough. Nobody is allowed to be The Hero. That person, should they ever arise, must always be eradicated.”

Villain stared at the night sky from the park bench, swollen and wet from the rain which had passed. The dark clouds above appeared so thick that they stretched across space, blocking even the moon from seeing her subjects below. Another storm was being pushed through. “They wait for the day you’re found out- living out any trope that serves them, even if it’s not true of your life at all. Enemies to lovers.” He scoffed. “The new fad. Unfortunate for them, I hate you,” he said, and his eyes never left the stormy clouds. “We are not their love story, and I’ll spite you at every turn for making them think this rivalry could turn to such. Tell me, why did you decide to become their next victim, hero?”

“You make it sound like I wanted them to call me a traitor under their breaths.” Her voice held no contempt. She was too tired for that- for anything besides a quietly piqued interest. “I don’t want to betray them. I fight you because they don’t have the ability to. It’s all for them. It has always been for them.”

“And yet”- Villain shrugged- “what have they done for you? Spread rumors? Spoken to teen entertainment vlogs about their accounts on witnessing our ‘dates’? None of it is real. I tell myself I’m fighting for something, but the truth is, none of us are. Not even you, though you think your purpose is to oppose me- to oppose evil and all that is ill. It’s not.”

Progressively, Hero felt the tips of her ears warming- a deep contrast compared to the cold air around her. “I don’t entertain them.”

“You serve them. Is that phrasing any more to your liking?”

She couldn’t argue that. Hero did serve her community- by fighting Villain, by bringing justice to him. Or…trying to at least. The rumors came with their own consequences. She was outcasted. No one trusted her even though she never gave them a reason to distrust her. Hero fought Villain. That was all she ever did, but one person got it into their head that maybe- just maybe- they weren’t fighting at all. Maybe Hero and Villain were living a fairytale. Maybe they were an item and the fights were all a facade so at least one of them would be praised.

Still, it had nothing to do with entertainment. Hero didn’t want to think of it that way. If she did, it meant she did all of this for nothing. She had no purpose. She wasted her time, energy, and effort.

“Why did we meet here?” It was going to start raining again, and Hero was already shivering. She only met him tonight because doing so meant he was with her, in sight, and unproductive in his schemes. He volunteered her as a distraction; she wasn’t smart enough to say no.

“We might only be a means of entertainment, but I’ve learned to appreciate the act. You and I are not friends, but they think so. There’s a camera- over there…” He pointed to a tree, and Hero cursed under her breath. “And it’s been filming us the entire time. Having casual conversation on a stormy night where no one else would dare relax. Nice and private- though cold, but we’re willing to sacrifice that warmth if it means being together, right?”

“You set me up.” Here she thought she was allowing herself to distract him, but it was his plan all along. Of course he wasn’t wanting to fix this problem. “You said you were tired of the rumors, Villain. That’s why we were here, to lay them to rest.”

Villain laughed and finally looked to Hero. His eyes trailed to her ears, all red from her frustration. It irritated her even more and she untucked her hair. “You aren’t just their entertainment, Hero. You’re mine, too.” He muttered, “So easy.”

She wanted to argue: I’m not your entertainment; I’m Im no one’s, but it would only prove him right. Looking at his smile now, Hero regretted even pulling her hair from behind her ears.

I can fight him now. The camera would see it and the people would know that the two were not lovers at all. But again, she’d be amusing him. Right now, he was expecting her to make a move, to- to retaliate, if only to entertain him more. Yet, if she didn’t do anything, the tape he had now would only confirm in the community’s mind that she was a scandal. Untrue and unfit for being their voice. Would they arrest her?

“I’m all you have now. Your only security.”

Hero shook her head. “No. That’s not true.”

“Then who else do you have?”

The sky was sprinkling now. Fat cold raindrops touched on Hero’s shoulders and she shivered. “They’ll believe me,” she said, though it came out as a whisper. Still, Villain heard.

“Do they believe you now?”

No.

“If you are not with me, you are nothing but a bad face to them. I can give you a new identity. I can give you a new start, one where you can be the one entertained- not them.”

His hand touched her face. She flinched. When had she closed her eyes and when had he stood from the park bench? When did the sprinkling of them sky become thin, pelting drops?

It stung: his hand, the rain, the biting cold, the realization that she was running out of options.

“I don’t need your help.”

“They’ll arrest you. Treason,” he said, and rubbed his thumb across Hero’s cheekbone. “Isn’t that the highest punishable crime?”

Was it? She wasn’t sure.

He was scaring her.

He was scaring her, and it was working so well that she felt herself sweating despite also quivering in the downpour.

His fingers wrapped under her chin while his other hand rested on her shoulder. “I can help.”

“You’re the reason I’m in this position!” Hero tried to rip away, but Villain stopped her with a heavy grip. “I don’t want your help. I don’t want your help.”

“You put yourself in this position by fighting something you had no right mind fighting. You were unprepared, Hero. Ill-advised.” His thumb strummed her cheek again, calming, manipulative. “I only helped you realize.”

The drop on her cheek was warm- a tear, not a raindrop. “You told me we’re not friends.”

“No. I pity you.” The hand on her shoulder fell and Villain wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her into a hug. Instinctively, she turned her head against his chest. His shirt was soaked and cold, but it was comfortable. She stayed, forgetting entirely who he was.

When had the heat left her ears? Was it when the rain started or when she laid her head on his chest? “We’re not friends,” she said, but as she stood in the pouring rain, cheek pressed against Villain’s wet shirt, she couldn’t imagine leaving. Let them have their entertainment, she almost said, but no. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Almost seeming to read her thoughts, Villain asked, “Who else do you have, Hero? Stand with me in this rain; let it wash away the hero you tried to be, and start anew.”

Thunder crackled across the sky. Hero remained silent. Enemies…lovers…amusement…what did it matter? She was comfortable in the rain, comfortable in the cold. “Will you delete the footage if I agree?”

He hummed.

“Delete it,” she begged, though her head never left his chest. “I want to start over. I would do anything.”

“Will,” Villain corrected. “I have some ideas for you.”

For now, they would leave the open sky, full of lightning and threatened existences. They would leave, and Hero would cry, grieve over her attempted heroism, and look to Villain- of all people- for a shoulder to cry on.

And as all villains do, he would take advantage of her, warp her mind, make her believe that she was wrong to be a hero, that she was a source of entertainment, though we, dear audience, know she was an inspiration all along.

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oh-honey-styles · 1 year

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TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT

Story Page // Words: 3.3k

•••

The morning after Harry’s fifteenth and final show at the Forum was an absolute mess… in the best way possible.

Clothes were scattered all across the bedroom floor - his grey sweats draped over the vanity, your t-shirt dangling from the bedpost. A tipped over water glass, the one you never bothered cleaning up, knocked from its place when his mouth went south and your arms flew to find any sort of anchor so you didn’t completely float away. The navy bed sheets were in utter disarray, the fitted one slipped from it’s corners and crumpled under your bodies - your naked bodies, blissfully exhausted from a night of frivolous high after high after high.

You were a mess, but you were so unbelievably happy, savoring every feeling and moment from your first time seeing Harry perform live.

The show was nothing like you had ever experienced, standing in the back of the pit next to Molly with a big ole goofy grin on your face the entire time. He was… phenomenal. His effortless talent. His insane energy. The entire vibe. He was the definition of joy and comedy and… so unbelievably sexy, the pink and blue silk and his bare chest. He left you speechless.

So when he brushed past you backstage, in the midst of an entire crowd of his doting team and friends, and casually pressed his warm hand to the base of your spine and his mouth to your ear, your core fluttered.

‘Cannot wait until you're naked in my bed tonight’ he breathed, easily stoking the ever-present fire in your belly. ‘Getting yourself wet for me already, hmm?’

And when you met him back at his house, his security gate just barely closed tight behind your parked car, his hungry mouth was on yours the moment you stepped foot on his drive. You couldn’t get through his front door fast enough, keys clattering loudly on the tile floor before you were pushing and pulling each other directly towards his bedroom.

And once he had you fully bare, splayed out across his sheets, he ran his hand up your thigh, excruciatingly slow. His eyes burned into yours as they flitted down to your heat and back, until a single finger grazed your core and a smug smile lifted his lips when he found out he was right after all - you were fucking soaked.

“Tell me what you want and you got it, love.”

You bit your lip, wanting him in every possible way. With a wicked grin and tug to his wrist, you had him falling back on the bed as you threw your knee over his hip and settled on top. He was beyond ready for you, the stretch of his length never got old as you leaned back to feel him as deep as possible.

And when his hand smoothed up your torso, between the swell of your breasts, your collarbone, your neck… wrapping gently at first, feeling it out, his thumb smoothing over your jaw, a spark lit up your eyes and he didn’t miss it. Squeezing slowly, he watched the fire quickly turn into a blaze as you kept riding him, hips rocking in the perfect unison to send both your highs tearing all the way through your bodies.

You fell asleep that night so fucked out in more ways than one… a new level of trust and vulnerability bringing you closer than you’d ever been before.

But as the morning light fell over your body tucked comfortably underneath his feather down duvet, the sound of his shower drifting in from his ensuite, you felt doubt sweep over you.

To your left, propped up on top of a bookshelf, were a handful of framed photos… his mum and sister he always spoke so highly of. Some artistic shots of what appeared to be an Italian sea view. But the one that you were fixated on was a whole line up of people, smiles massively wide and arms wrapped tightly around each other. You recognized some from the night before, but hadn’t met, only seen them from afar.

And that’s when you realized you were still from two completely different worlds.

Doing your best to swallow your now anxious pulse thumping in your throat, you stood to your feet and started mapping out your escape route. In the same moment, the rainfall shower switched off and all you could hear was the echo of a whistled melody.

Damn. You sighed in your head, knowing Harry was about to emerge and you had missed your chance.

“Harry…” you called out half heartedly, lowkey wishing you could’ve just snuck out without an awkward farewell. “Um, I’m gonna get going.”

A shuffle of noise had his head popping out through the ensuite door, his hair wet and scattered across his forehead.

“Wait, what?” He stumbled over his words with a furrowed brow. “Thought we’d make breakfa— er, lunch?”

“I’ve just got some stuff I need to do,” you lied, moving to gather your belongings.

He stepped all the way out then, tattooed skin still damp with a towel resting low on his hips. “Before we leave tomorrow?”

Shit.

You had been avoiding it, the fast approaching birthday trip to Palm Springs. The one you decided would be too weird to attend, what with being his new-ish friend… that had sex with him all the time. You had yourself convinced you’d stick out like a sore thumb and were better off staying his best kept secret. At least that’s what you told yourself to keep from getting hurt.

“Um... I’ve been meaning to tell you…” Deep breath, you encouraged yourself. “I don’t think I'm gonna be able to go to Palm Springs. I have, uh, plans that I forgot about.”

Plans to bury yourself in a hole and never come back out.

“What do you mean you have plans?”

You gulped, wishing he wouldn’t have pushed you for an explanation. Your arrangement was supposed to be breezy, right?

“I—“

“Bullshit.”

Your eyes went wide, watching him nonchalantly lift his hand and drag it through his wet curls, twisting it back before perching his hand on his hip.

“Um— excuse me?”

“I call bullshit,” Harry stated simply. “What’s the real reason? And don’t tell me this is about ‘emotions’.”

The air quotes he tossed into the air made you huff out a laugh. He had you cornered and you hated it.

“Okay, fine,” you plopped down on the edge of his bed. “It's stupid, I’ll be the first to admit it. It’s just… Molly’s not going and I don’t exactly know any of your friends. It would be… weird.”

“You know Jeffrey,” he countered and your eyebrows darted to the top of your forehead. Your only acquaintance was the one who walked in on you and Harry in your underwear… lovely.

“Okay… okay yeah,” he caught on quickly. “Fair point.”

He was quiet then, his eyes zeroing in on the same bookshelf you had been studying that morning. His lips were pushed out in an adorably thoughtful pout before they suddenly lifted to a grin as he spun on his heel, letting the towel he was holding around his waist hit the floor.

“Alright,” he exclaimed, leaving you to watch his bare backside saunter away into the other room. “Get dressed then! Let’s go.”

It took you a few minutes to pick your jaw up off the floor, the sight of him stark naked still making you breathless. Eventually you followed his instructions and got dressed, certain it could lead you out his front door in stubborn victory.

But when he insisted you climb into the passenger seat of his black Mercedes and then pressed his phone to his ear once you were buckled in, you were certain that a look of confusion was written all over your face.

“Thomas,” Harry greeted whoever was on the other end, simultaneously starting the car and putting it in reverse. “Are you home? Okay. Mhmm. Gonna grab some tacos and be over in a bit. With a friend. Yeah, that friend.”

He glanced at you and then carefully backed out of his driveway. You asked where you were headed but Harry just smirked, picking at his bottom lip as he drove. The nervous pit in your belly grew exponentially with every street sign you past, trying to just go with the flow, making the obvious assumption that you were about to enter the lion's den of his textbook Hollywood-esque friends.

A few minutes of weaving through the canyon roads had you adjusting your sunglasses when he clicked his signal on, pointing you in the direction of Pinches Tacos, your favorite weekly $2 Tuesday taco spot.

“Wait— we’re getting tacos at Pinches?”

Harry looked at you with a nod, pushing his dark black sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Only the best.”

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too big at the coincidence.

“Cool. I, uh, eat there every Tuesday.”

His head dropped with a chuckle.

“Well, looks like we have something in common then.”

He left you with a smug grin as he politely asked you to wait in the car while he ducked out and hustled inside. It only took ten minutes of you nervously picking at your cuticles for him to re-emerge with two massive bags of the best tacos in LA.

The pit in your belly had twisted into one of the fiercest knots as you made your way up the main canyon road before you were pulling into the driveway of a humble taupe colored home.

“Who’s house is this?”

Harry unfolded out of the car and moved to grab the takeout bags as he answered.

“Tom and Jenny are two of my best friends in the whole entire world. Tom’s my producer and has worked on all three of my albums. And they will be going to Palm Springs tomorrow.”

He smirked as you fell in step next to him, mirroring his grin while rolling your eyes, certain he could see the gesture underneath your sunglasses.

“I think you’ll get along with them pretty well,” he assured you when you stopped at their doormat only for Harry to twist the door handle and let himself inside.

And even though your stubbornness had you hating to admit it, he was right. Tom and Jenny were amazing. Both so incredibly warm and inviting and… normal. Nothing like you expected.

You ate together, getting to know the basics, while realizing you truly had so much in common. And after Jenny complimented your top, the one you nabbed from a Santa Monica thrift shop, and you genuinely reciprocated loving hers… it was only a matter of minutes before your numbers were in each other’s phones with a tentative thrift shop date planned for the following week.

“Might be a little jealous if Jenny gets to go on a date with you before me,” Harry stole a moment to lean in and whisper in your ear.

You felt chills go down your spine, his breath tickling your skin.

“Tiptoeing across that line I see…”

He laughed loudly and then made his way to where Kid was changing the vinyl on the record player. You followed in his steps to find an open room with a pool table tucked into the far corner. On the wall hung a chalkboard with ‘Harry - 8, Tom - 0’ scribbled on it.

“You wanna go, Tom?” Harry teased, leaning against the table.

Tom scoffed. “I was pretty damn close to beating you last time.”

“Harry… doesn’t lose,” Jenny came from behind you and handed you a drink. “At any competition. Ever.”

“Oh he doesn't, does he?” You laughed awkwardly, confusedly recalling the first night you hung out with Harry, when you obliterated his pool game three times without even breaking a sweat.

“Except footie,” Tom interjected, giving him a playful push. “He sucks at footie.”

“Pool and ping pong just so happen to be his speciality,” Jenny finished and then continued on to the back patio with Tom in step behind her.

No fucking way. You thought in your head knowing you weren’t awful but you truly weren’t that good at pool.

Harry’s cheeks were bright pink when you looked over at him.

“Hold on—“ You placed your hand on his chest as he attempted to walk past you. “That night… Did you… Did you lose on purpose?”

“Wh—“ he huffed dramatically. “I would never!”

You were about to dub him actor of the year when you instead decided to pull your fist back and punch him in the arm.

“Oh my god! You THREW those games didn’t you?”

“I would never,” he reiterated.

Harry’s brow furrowed painfully deep, but his lips gave him away, barely being able to stop them from lifting in a smile.

“Okay then,” you glanced behind you to make sure no one was around. “If you beat me at pool right now, fair and square, then tonight I will fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk afterwards.”

His jaw literally dropped and he waited a beat but then let his poker face fall.

“Okay, yeah, I threw the games. All three.”

“You are unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. He was good, you had to give him that.

Just then his phone dinged and saved the day.

“Oop— Looks like the whole crew is on their way now.”

“What?”

His shoulders lifted to his ears in a shrug. “You said you wanted to meet my friends…”

All within the hour, Tom and Jenny’s backyard had turned into a lowkey party. His guitarist, his drummer, all his managers including Jeffrey and his wife, his musical director, his trainer, everyone was linked to his career in some way shape or form, and you found it endearing. He worked with the people he loved and trusted. And you admired that.

But mostly, you were blatantly wrong— there was nothing ‘Hollywood’ about his circle. They were all funny, smart, humble and unbelievably kind. They were identical to the Harry you had grown to adore.

Throughout the afternoon, Harry kept his distance as you got to know everyone, checking in on you with smiley glances from across the way every once in a while. Normally you’d be chomping at the bit to leave, but you honestly didn’t mind the new social setting. You were truly enjoying yourself.

“Overwhelming, innit?” A smooth British accent asked from behind you, turning to see Harry’s trainer, who’s name had escaped you in that moment, had made his way over with two drinks and a smile. “Meeting everyone for the first time.”

“Oh,” you huffed a laugh, accepting the drink from his hand. “Thank you. A bit, yeah. Don’t think I’ll remember everyone’s names.”

You lifted the cup and met his in a cheers before taking a sip.

“You’re crushing it though,” he exclaimed after his sip with a gorgeous toothy smile. “Absolutely brilliant.”

You felt your cheeks warm and you dropped your chin to brush off the feeling when a strong hand landed on your shoulder.

“We’re headed out.”

Harry stood behind you with a stern look on his face. You were so confused, but you stood to your feet anyway.

“Later man.” He left his trainer with a fist bump and what appeared to be a look of… warning?

“Okay?” You attempted to follow his swift pace before stopping and insisting you were going to say goodbye and thank you to Tom and Jenny.

Harry shocked you then, continuing out the front door without even a glance in your direction.

And after you said your goodbyes, you hesitantly made your way towards his car to find him propped up against it, waiting with his fingers rubbing into his eyes.

You felt so frustrated, so confused, and once you were close, you lifted your arms out to your sides.

“What is wrong with you?”

Harry's hand dropped from his face when he looked your way. “I’m sorry— I just… I didn’t like the way he was flirting with you!”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Flirting!? That was flirting?”

“He was revving himself up to ask you out, I know his game!”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“God Harry!” You scoffed, frustration making your skin tingle. You were so tired of beating around the bush. So tired of pretending what you were doing didn’t mean more. “Okay, so what you’re saying is… you don’t want other people flirting with me? Or you don’t want me seeing other people at all?”

He was quick to respond, a tinge of sorrow laced in his low voice.

“I would never ask—“

“You’d never?” You quipped, doing your best to control your temper. “Then what the fuck are we doing, Harry? I’m so exhausted from playing this little game. We agreed no emotions, but we both know that’s bullshit.”

And there it was… your truth dangling freely in the cool January night’s air.

Harry didn’t respond, at all, but he kept your gaze locked with his, a million words and thoughts clearly lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“Just—“ You broke the silence, your words leaving your lips in a hushed plea. “Tell me what you want… please.”

He opened and closed his mouth a dozen times while nervously adjusting his weight beneath him.

“I—“

“Do you like me as more than a friend or not?”

“You know I do,” he blurted.

“Do I?”

He took a deep breath before everything came rolling off his tongue.

“Do I like you as more than a friend? Fucks sake— I like you more than you could ever imagine.”

He took two steps closer to you then, reaching out for your hand as if your touch would keep him from losing his grit and stop himself from telling you the truth. And when you slotted your fingers in between his, you could feel his quickened pulse.

“I think about you practically every second of the day. I hate waking up without you next to me. I sleep a millions times better when you’re with me. I would text you all day long if that didn’t make me look like a complete loser. I’ve written, like, a dozen songs about you. You’re exhausted? I’m completely wrecked.”

Your eyes were wide as saucers, stunned… in the best way.

“Okay then,” you blew out a hefty stream of air, doing your best to process everything he had just confessed. “Then just act… normal!”

“You don’t get it,” he shook his head in protest. “If you’re with me… your life…”

“I don’t fucking care, Harry,” you stopped him abruptly, knowing the self deprecating rabbit hole he was about to spiral down. “If I’m with you, I want all of you. Seriously, give me all you got, I can handle it.”

His eyes were the sweetest, softest shade of green as he looked at you, a pained line still etched between his brows.

“But I leave… in a week,” he sighed. “I promise you’ll change your mind.”

You mimicked his sigh. “I promise you… I won’t. I’m pretty stubborn when it comes to this, you know.”

A glimmer of hope twinkled in his eye and he finally forfeited, gently squeezing your hand in his.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you agreed and the anxious tension around you floated away with the breeze.

“So,” he licked his lips, nudging you closer and embracing the vulnerable moment. “You’ll let me fly you to me? You know… to have sex.”

You both barked out a laugh, smiles now stretched wide across your faces.

“Maybe,” you grinned, stepping even closer. “And you’ll text me. All day long if you want. You know… like a loser.”

He pulled you into him then, bringing your body as close to his as possible. He bumped his nose with yours gently, his smile never wavering until he pressed his lips to yours in a lingering kiss.

“You got it, love.”

•••

A/N: Whew! Don’t know where this jolt of inspo came from but let’s not question it, eh? 😅 I hope you enjoyed these two finally talking things out. If it’s not clear, this blurb actually goes before the big Grammy win in Make You Happier Baby.

Very very grateful to everyone that’s read this story so far. My girls @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h are literally the only reason this shit ends up happening, their encouragement is priceless and I’m forever grateful for them as betas, humans and friends.

Would love love love love to hear what you thought!

•••

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#WHEW #😅🙃#okay I’m equally excited and nervous for this one #a little something to read while we wait for Brits chaos #would love to hear your thoughts #thank you for reading and sharing!#the morning after #tell me what you want

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