#BREAKING A TABLE AND ANOTHER ONE SHE KNOWS HOW FUCKED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE BECOMES AFTER A GAME!!!!! EVERYONE SHUT UP

[viovio]

you ever feel so normal when people ask why amanda mercy-killed adam or go "SHES SO FUCKED FOR THAT" did im-gonna-free-you mean nothing?

#speak iza #BREAKING A TABLE AND ANOTHER ONE SHE KNOWS HOW FUCKED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE BECOMES AFTER A GAME!!!!! EVERYONE SHUT UP #it doesnt change you at least not the way johns philosophy claims it does. way before john even her worldviews been so cynical #that she views death as an escape/only redemption like we see her try so bad to help the nerve gas house party shes a good person but ouhhu #god. i love her and i love adam but people have to realize he played his part in the story already would LOVE for him to be alive #but theyre similar in that matter i love guys who are doomed. #lots of people point out amandas beartrap was the only test where she didnt have to physically hurt herself

[777-maple]

How I manifest everything

From someone who has been doing this for 3 years.

Table of context

1. EXCESS POTENTIAL

2. DO NOT GIVE A FUCK

3. FIND THE METHOD THAT WORKS BEST FOR YOU

4. DISCIPLINE

5. YOU DO NOT NEED TO DO MORE

6. 4V1

7. HOW NEGATIVES ARE ACTUALLY HUGE SIGNS

8. AFFIRMATION TAPES

EXCESS POTENTIAL:

Every time I've been overly fixated on manifesting something, it never quite works out. I've come to realize that relying solely on a manifestation for happiness creates a sense of lack. So, when the manifestation seems elusive, and I start feeling hopeless, I remind myself that I can find happiness independent of that specific outcome. I can be content right now and for the rest of my life, even if this thing never materializes.

Take the scenario of people manifesting their significant others. Relying entirely on that person for happiness isn't healthy. Even outside the realm of manifestation, your partner shouldn't be your sole source of joy. If the idea of not having them makes you believe you'll never be happy again, it's time to shift focus. Instead of obsessing over manifesting them back, it's about working on your self-concept and having a healthier perspective on relationships. I love my boyfriend, but if he left suddenly, I'd be sad, not thinking my life is over. It's about having a mindset that even if this particular thing doesn't work out, I'm still deserving of happiness and that happiness will come to me one way or another. And this may seem counterintuitive, however this is not me saying that you won’t manifest your desire and that you should be okay with that. I am saying that you need to be happy with or without because the 3d should never dictate your happiness.

DO NOT GIVE A FUCK:

Mastering manifesting requires not caring about the drama in the 3D world. Imagine unwanted things happening, and you just shrug it off, saying, "I don’t give a fuck." Add a bonus of "This will work out anyway." If your specific person hasn't replied, don't panic. Embrace the "IDGAF" mindset. "I don't give a fuck that they haven't texted back; they love me, and they'll reach out any minute now." After dropping this wisdom, distract yourself from the negativity. Watch a show, dance, listen to music—anything to divert attention. It's about cutting the drama and letting the universe do its thing. Repeat this as many times as necessary.

I applied this recently when two friends were dating, and I believed they weren't right for each other and I hated the way she treated him. Despite seeing them be all couplely in the 3d, I persisted in imagining their breakup. I would affirm occasionally “They are in the process of breaking up, I know that they’re about to break up”. After a week, they stopped hanging out, and eventually, they unfollowed each other. It took about two weeks.

FIND THE METHOD THAT WORKS BEST FOR YOU:

Honestly, none of the typical manifestation methods clicked with me. Affirmations gave me a headache, visualization overwhelmed me, meditation wasn't my go-to, and scripting bored me. So why don’t I like the holy grail of robotic affirmations? I appreciate affirmations, but I can't do them robotically 24/7; it's too stressful. I tried robotic affirming for two years without success. The key is finding a method you enjoy, not just focusing on its efficiency. If you don't enjoy your chosen method, find one that brings you joy. I have seen probably hundreds of robotic affirmation success stories, but since I never enjoyed affirming 24/7 it never worked for me. Ill get into my preferred method in a bit. But find one you enjoy.

DISCIPLINE:

Discipline used to be a challenge, but I realized it's crucial for manifesting. I stay disciplined by choosing a method, setting a 90-day goal, and eliminating distractions. I unsubscribed from manifestation coaches, delete twitter, tumblr, fb, and block tarot readers. Manifestation shouldn't become a distraction. Don’t let manifestation become your new Netflix. I no longer follow my favorite manifestation coaches, not because I dislike them, but because they served their purpose. I honestly do believe this step is crucial but a lot of people may not want to do it.

YOU DO NOT NEED TO DO MORE:

One day, it hit me that I rarely entertain opposing thoughts like “This won't work.” Instead, I find myself thinking, “I need to do more for this to work.” Identifying your specific limiting belief is crucial. In my case, I fell into a cycle of trying new methods because I believed I needed to do more. The pattern went like this: new method -> progress -> less progress/opposite results -> need to add a new method -> progress -> burnout -> giving up. Manifesting operates effortlessly 24/7, so consciously manifesting should be the same. Pick one method, stick to it, and trust it.

1v4:

Here's the affirming method I swear by (shoutout to GOATEDMANIFESTING on YouTube and TikTok– the only coach I actually care about and relate to 100%). I maintain a mental diet by monitoring my thoughts throughout the day. If a negative thought contradicts what I'm manifesting, I stop myself and affirm the positive opposite four times. For instance, if I think "He's getting bored of me," I counter it with affirmations like "No, he loves spending time with me; he's always excited to be around me." Repeat that four times, let go, and continue with what you were doing, all while keeping an eye on your thoughts. It's like facing four opponents in a fight – depending on the strength of the limiting belief, it might take some hits. If four people keep beating you up, even if you survive the first round, you would eventually give up.

HOW NEGATIVES ARE ACTUALLY HUGE SIGNS:

Everything only has meaning if you give it meaning. After observing the process of manifesting something new multiple times, I've noticed I often hit a sort of rock bottom. In the beginning, it involved a few days of confidence followed by uncertainty and worry. But persisting through it always led to improvement and successful manifestation. I've learned to assign a new meaning to these tough days – they're a massive sign that what I'm doing is imprinting on my subconscious. It's like my subconscious is "fighting back" against this foreign idea, but if I persist, it'll absorb and manifest. The resistance might show up as opposing dreams, intrusive thoughts, or even the opposite appearing in the 3D. Take it as a sign that after persisting, your subconscious will be impressed and manifest. Just stand firm during this time. Stand on business.

AFFIRMATION TAPES

This is my preferred method but imma just link a video that explains it better than I ever could plus I am tired of writing.

CONCLUSION

There is so so much more I have learned like how I don’t listen to depressing music anymore just shit that makes me feel confident, motivated or happy.

I have been obsessed with law of assumption for 3 whole years now and I know I still got a lot more to learn however this shit got me movement with my sp in 9 days after 2 years of hot and cold. It got me an A in my college algebra class even though it should be a B. It got my friend to end it with his toxic girlfriend. It got my other friend to end shit with her toxic best friend. I change my appearance and my confidence is through the roof and this is the first time in a while where I am completely content with my life.

There is a lot more I could talk about but thats for another day, these are just the main 7 points.

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #affirmations #manifesation #loassumption

[mymelodymia]

The chaotic duo

Summary: you and your dad are the most chaotic due ever.

Warnings: tony being evil, y/n getting revenge 😈,

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

The ENTIRE team had become aware that you both were chaotic, but oh, my, goodness you too together? Jeez, I dont think the universe could handle it.

It had become a regular occurrence to see you being chased by tony, for reference, they had just seen you running for your life, screaming through the tower, and once you ran out of the room, they'd see tony run in like,

"Which way she go?" A few of them were on tonys team and pointed straight to your direction, and some pointed in the opposite direction. Eventually tony gave up and guessed, and he got lucky I guess 🤷‍♀️

Then he'd just run into another room and they'd just hear a shrill screech, then see tony walking in heading straight back to where he came from with you over his shoulder.

You kicking and hitting him in a attempt to free yourself, this did nothing. You screaming various protests against this act of evilness 😡

"We can talk about this!"

"No we cant."

"YES WE CAN!!"

He walked into an empty room before plopping you on the couch, he began to smile evilly, you knew what was coming at this point (T^T)

"Noo!" You could barely get this plead out before he began tickling you. You started to laugh uncontrollably, kicking your feet and squirming to try and get out of his iron grip (pun so, fucking, intended)

"NOOOHOHOHOHHO! DAAAHHAHHADD!!"

"STOOAAHAHHAHAHPP!"

"Stop what, this?" He said as he reached for your underarms, causing your laughter to go silent for a moment. After a few more minutes of this torture, he let you go. The whole team was still sitting in the next room over, listening in horror, trying to withhold their own laughter.

"That poor kid." Clint spoke up, causing everyone to break out into a fit of laughter

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

That night, you walked into your bathroom and remembered, you still had temporary green hair dye fron last years halloween from when you dressed up as Beetlejuice.

You decided that this was your chance to get some revenge 😈

so, you grabbed the hair dye and slowly creeped into your fathers bedroom, made your way over to his king sized bed, and unscrewed the lid.

You dumped a large clump into the palm of your hand, when it made contact with his head It made a small 'plop' sound, which made you freeze for a few moments before returning to your dirty-work.

Using both hands this time, you spread it around on his scalp, and luckily he was a very heavy sleeper, so this didn't even make him stirr.

Once you finished this part of revenge, you walked across the large bedroom and got a sticky note and wrote the words 'revenge mother-fricker' and stuck it on his forehead

You could only get one side of his head covered in the dye givin that he was laying on his side. Now you just had to wait till morning.

+•°+*°•+

The morning after you did this you were sitting at the table, gobbling down on some cereal. Then tony walked in, half of his hair dyed green, and the sticky note still on his forehead.

you immediately started giggling, which turned into laughing. Almost choking on your cereal, which you had to calm down to get it to slide down your throat.

"Okay, now i know who did it" tony said trying to withhold the smile that perched upon his lips.

"I think it was obvious from the start-" nat said crossing her arms on her chest, being cut of by you falling out of your chair, holding your hand on your mouth as an attempt to stop the laughter.

"Thats literally worse then yesterday and no one is even near her" clint whispered to nat.

"Thats, hahAA..thats what you get"

"How is it....oh" he said when he remembered his little scheme from yesterday 😳

+•°+*°•+

You guys also had your cute moments, for reference. Right now you and the whole team was watching tangled together in the living room

You had drifted off on your fathers chest, your hand just under his arc reactor, his hand on your back, the other on your forearm (that wasn't on his chest) rubbing it with his thumb.

You loved moments like this, it gave you a feeling of peace after a long day of dealing with his and your sassyness.

Tony also fell asleep about halfway through the film, the two of you resting in each others warmth.

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

A/N: HAHAHA! You think I'd finally make a fic with no lovey dovey stuff? Nope! HAHAA-

Tags

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @yummyangy // @zebralover

#tony stark x daughter reader #dad!tony stark #daughter reader #tony stark x stark!reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader #iron dad #Avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #chaos #tony stark is a sassy bitch :)

[picklefics]

Benefits of Camping, or How to (not) Hunt Bigfoot With Your Parents

This was originally posted on Ao3, but I decided I'd see what posting on Tumblr was like for fanfiction :) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47138986/chapters/118767895)

I already have chapters 1-5, just not gonna put em all up right now as I'm at a coffee shop and need to work on heading home.

Summary:

It could've been a great vacation. Probably. Except there's one tiny issue: Danny's parents have decided to take a break from hunting ghosts, instead supporting their fellow cryptobiologists in hunting Bigfoot. The big problem? They do find Bigfoot. And Bigfoot can talk. (...and has a PhD?)

Chapter 1: Benefit 1-New Cooking Skills

Danny’s folks are usually ghost hunters, but that doesn’t mean they don’t branch out. After all, they’d spent almost 20 years of their life studying a science practically everyone thought of as a paper house in a rainstorm. Surely one of those droplets of evidence would disprove the science as a whole.

Really? Entire beings made of one substance? Supernatural entities?

Absurd .

Maddie and Jack have a great deal of sympathy for cryptobiologists. They also have a tendency to suspect that ghosts are involved every time someone spots Bigfoot or some other being. But really, they’d be happy with either the discovery of a ghost or a new animal to dissect.

Danny, on the other hand, is not in love with either of those two discovery options. He is having a great deal of fun tormenting Jazz, who’d been forced to come along on a trip to the red cedar forests of California. He’d tried to bribe Sam and Tucker into coming along. Sam, with the lure of a new animal (maybe) to check out, and Tucker with peer pressure and lots of grilled meat. Unfortunately, after the reality check that was another fight with a new ghost named Fortuna (self-proclaimed follower of Fortuna, Goddess of Fortune and Misfortune, and with luck-related powers), they’d been forced to concede that having people at home who could fight ghosts was too important to have all three of them on a camping trip.

Thank fuck that Val wasn’t in school right now and that she’d gotten less extreme about ghosts since meeting Danielle. One day Danny might even consider telling her about him, if she doesn’t figure it out first. As a result, there are three competent ghost hunters in Amity Park who don’t actively hate ghosts while Danny is on vacation.

At any rate, Danny is trapped with a bunch of adults who are way too enthusiastic about hunting down rare animals and (in at least one case) killing and taxidermy-ing them. The guy in question keeps tracking new hunters down and showing off pictures of his living room and business, covered in eerie deer, bear, and alligator heads, among other things. There’s even a snake wrapped around a driftwood piece on the table. It reminds Danny of Skulker, and makes him consider yet again whether ghosts might be more likely to form out of these kinds of people. He’s pretty sure his parents were obsessive before they started regularly working with ectoplasm, and after?

They grew much more extreme.

And who knows? It could be due to exposure to ectoplasm, or maybe the obsessiveness causes ectoplasm to accumulate near them. He’s heard theories going both ways.

This guy, Danny could easily imagine dying and becoming a ghost.

At least he helps with setup. The camp takes a while to go up, yellow and beige tents popping up like gophers among the trees. His parents’ tent is a green dome, one of a few splashes of color in the group. Another guy sets up a big grill and a solar panel in a little clearing, one of the few places with sunlight. His incredibly buff partner totes a bag of backup coal to the grill like Mom would carry a sack of flour.

All around the area, people bring up folding chairs and situate equipment. In a big, waterproof, black container, they all put their tech away. The container is anchored with thick ropes to be absolutely certain that nothing can drag it away. It’s flash-flooding season in the area and there’s a river nearby, so they’re concerned that the container could float away, but they had wanted to make the equipment available to everyone, so they aren’t keeping it in anyone’s vehicle. 

A cage goes up towards the far west corner of the camp, away from the fire pit, because they’re worried anything they capture might be unduly frightened by said fire.

With that, a few people sign up in rotation to monitor the grill, planning to bake some potatoes and apples in the fire pit and grill weenies. It’ll be about three hours before supper, but the planning, and a snack, are needed. As the only kids present (apparently many of the others’ kids are nonexistent or at summer camps), Danny and Jazz are put on apple coring and potato poking duty involuntarily. 

Matthew Kapp is their instructor. He practically drags them to the fire pit and tells them how to make the food like he thinks they have infinite memory space for commands, no matter how long the list is.

He explains that potatoes explode when in the ashes without holes, then shows them the basic steps to prepare the food. Essentially, they’re supposed to stab the potatoes with a fork “until it feels right”, wrap them in tin foil, and then yeet them into the fire. Then they have to be surrounded by the ashes and dug out later. Jazz and Danny both work on this, quietly chattering.

Danny grins and with particular emphasis stabs a potato old enough to have green sprouts studded all over its surface. He has to use his right thumb to put enough pressure on the sides of the sprouts that they fall off. He jokes, “If I were Skulker and this potato was me, I’d be so happy right now…”

Jazz raises her eyebrows at him. “Sometimes I worry about the normalization of violence you’ve experienced, Danny.”

Danny is like 90% sure she’s saying that mostly to get on his nerves, but he’s not 100% sure. Ah, the delights of a sister who adores psychology and tormenting her little brother. He rolls his eyes. “Literally everybody in town probably has that. The school has at least one attack every week.”

Jazz retorts, “That’s really not normal.”

“Well it’s normal for me.” 

At that, Jazz changes topics. “Did you remember to bring our tent?”

Danny gives her a thumbs up.

“Great. We don’t have to listen to their snoring!” She cheers. Granted part of the reason they have the tent is because of Danny’s nightmares and occasional power use. Particularly, he’s prone to leaping out of bed and turning intangible the second he gets startled awake because of the sheer number of times ghosts have woken him up.

“Thanks for suggesting it,” Danny offers. Then he adds, “Stabbing the potatoes until it feels right is so…imprecise. How do we know when it feels right?”

Jazz groans sympathetically. “I know, right? I get it for people who’ve baked campfire potatoes before, but we’ve never done this. Mr. Kapp is a scientist, isn’t he supposed to know to be exact for beginners?”

Danny tosses his potato back and forth. “This potato better be good. It’s very hole-y now.” He sets it in the metal bowl to his right and adds, “It’s starting a cult.”

Jazz raises her eyebrows at him. “...why?”

“Holy? Y’know, like saints or whatever?”

Jazz snorts and grabs the tin foil roll. She starts unwrapping it to the familiar crumbly crackle of ripping metal, tearing off pieces big enough for each of the potatoes they’ve prepared. Danny snitches some of the squares and starts wrapping them around each potato as fast as he can. For this part, they don’t talk. The aluminum is too loud anyways. It covers speech pretty well.

After all 14 potatoes are wrapped, they toss them into the fire. Sparks flash into the sky and drift away, and one of the logs collapses into the pit with a soft thud. The white ashes have increased in number, but there aren’t many yet, so they wait to bury the potatoes in the ashes. While they wait, they move on to the apples.

Danny mixes the cinnamon and other spices together and Jazz cores the apples while grumbling about how hard it will be to work on her paper out here. She brought paper so she could handwrite some of it, but out here there isn’t any internet so the most she can do is type on her phone. She isn’t doing that because she’s worried about running out of power and not being able to call if there’s an emergency.

They both stuff the apples with the mixture and then wrap them and toss them in the fire in the same way as the potatoes but to the side. About 15 minutes later, they use sticks to roll the apples out of the fire. The potatoes are saved for later since it will be a few hours before they’re done, while the apples are served as a snack/dessert immediately. 

Having had a long drive and therefore possessing a strong craving for sweets (or any sort of snackage really), everyone swarms the apple pile and as a result only gets one each. Danny plots to sneak another apple into the fire later so he can have seconds, and Jazz wholly supports him. He forgets to eat, and she has to remind him far more often than she’d like.

After the apples are all eaten, some of the people sit down to rest (those who weren’t already asleep) and some of the others begin prowling the area, including Taxidermy Guy (Oscar Polson) and his wife Paloma.

When the two of them come back, they have a map of the area filled with markings denoting where they want to put various kinds of traps. The Polsons are the experts on trap-setting and location, and they’re responsible for deciding which places to put the traps each person brought. With the locations for each trap decided, everyone fixes the last few supper items and sits down for supper as the sun sets, mostly because there’s not enough time to set up the traps that evening.

Next Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/picklefics/730299785376104448/boc-chapter-2?source=share

#dp x xm #dpxxm #phandom #x men evolution #bad camping trips #danny phantom #hank mccoy and his very own series of unfortunate events

[seanwriting]

Whiskers, Howlers, and Claws

The date is going well, laughing and delight raising to new heights as Lupo and Reagan enjoy their time together, swapping stories and getting to know each other very well. At this point you can draw the curtains on this perfect little couple, but another gang rolls into the scene, the Claws, here to make things worse and put the couple in a dangerous situation. Cuties being cuties, sudden danger, poking the bear literally, petty but exciting theft, and driving off into the night, what more is there to love? Snippet of the story below~ The lights of the city are in full bloom, the huge skyscrapers becoming beacons in the distance while the flashing lights of a concert can be seen across the shimmering water of the lake. As the neighborhoods of the city settle in for sleep, the night life is reborn with music being played for all to enjoy or dread as the case my be. At El Mejor Lugar, most of the evening crowd has left in favor of those that are going from one party to another, grabbing a bite to eat a bit more to drink. Some of these traveling parties have set up in the main rooms of the restaurant with new bands playing a bit higher tempo for them. In the outside patio area, there is only a sporadic few eaters left; an older couple drinking and enjoying the view of the lake, a trio of friends still catching up after years apart, and a pair that is engrossed in a story being told. Most of the food on the pair’s table has been eaten and cleared, only a few drinks left between them that have already been forgotten about. Reagan is starting at Lupo with a wide surprised smile on her face, a mix of disbelief and wonder at the story being told. Her tail sways in delight behind her, all pretext about what lead to this date pushed aside as she finds herself having the time of her life. She lets out a chuckle as Lupo leans back, story told with a proud smile on his face as she asks, “Let me get this straight; not only did you steal a rich guy’s prized motorbike and crashed it, but then you went back in and stole his fucking paintings? How?” Lupo laughs as he shakes his head and leans forward, his tail wagging with abandon behind him as he can’t stop smiling. In fact he hasn’t stopped smiling this entire time and started to forget what it was like to not laugh like this every day, “No, no, no, I didn’t say it right. Carlos… uh… ‘Crash’, came with me for the job because he wanted to make a name for himself. So I found him the keys to the bike and told him to drive it out while I grabbed the paintings, he wasn’t supposed to crash it el maldito idiota. That bike was worth a lot in parts but in the end it became the most expensive distraction…” He takes a drink to get rid of the dryness in the throat, realizing that he has been talking for a while now without a break. Reagan laughs at his correction, letting out a sigh as she shakes her head to catch her breath, trying to calm the blush across her face. After a moment a thought comes to her as she leans forward and gives him an expectant look, “Wait, is that how he got the name ‘Crash’?”

You can find the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43313886/chapters/109178001 If you want to read more stories you can find them here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeanShannon/works If you want to commission a story of your own you can find my commission form here: https://forms.gle/pojvm3Nx1TEwR1uC6 If you have any questions see my Pinned Post for more info~

Posted using PostyBirb

#Story #Writing #Writer #Gang #Danger #Dating #First Date #Pining #Sleight of Hand #Theft #Smug #Excitment #Bantering #Taunting

[bubbleteaimagines]

He cheats and gets someone else pregnant

Haikyuu Boys Drabbles

The one where you finally realize your worth and don’t forgive a cheater

SUNA RINTARO

It was inevitable, he supposed. You weren’t a dumb person- you’d figure it out soon enough. You’d pick up on the signs- notice how much he’s been going out lately and staring at his phone. Laughing at things you hadn’t sent him, becoming distant, slowly but surely.

Suna knew you’d find out.

He just wasn’t expecting it to be soon.

He had come home one evening and took a shower like normal. While he washed up, he made the terrible mistake of leaving his phone in the kitchen, thinking that there was no way she’d text him. Their relationship was dwindling, after all. Suna was beginning to let the guilt get to him.

After 3 long months, he finally realized what he had wanted. He wanted you, forever and always. He wanted to marry you and spend the rest of his days traveling and experiencing new things with you.

Unfortunately though, he figured it out too late. A boys mistake, thinking that the grass was greener on the other side. And he’d soon pay the price for that wishful thinking.

While you were cooking dinner, you couldn’t help but notice how often his phone was going off. It kept dinging every few seconds, quickly causing you to become irritated.

Suna’s phone never went off that much, and so you thought surely it must be the boys. They probably added him into a group chat, you figured.

Oh how wrong you were.

The minute you walked over to the device and picked it up, you could truly feel your heart break. Searing pain burst through you like a rocket, a gasp leaving your lips as you scrolled through the messages.

8:53 PM

Unknown: Suna? Do you think we could talk?

Unknown: I know you said that you were going back to Y/N, but I...I’m pregnant. And it’s yours

Undeniably, you were shocked and confused. Pregnant? Who was this that was texting his phone? And why the hell did she think she was pregnant by your boyfriend?

A sickening feeling began to bubble in your stomach. Putting the phone down, you clenched your fists and took deep breaths.

In and out, Y/N. In and out.

Surely there was an explanation for this, right? You’d ask Suna as soon as he got done showering, and he’d laugh and tell you how this was all a misunderstanding. Some prank by Atsumu, wanting to get him back in his own cruel way.

But...

One look at his face, though, and you knew everything.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at Suna, his eyes widened as he looked at the phone in your trembling hands. Once again, it pinged, but you didn’t even have the energy to look. The only thing you were focused on was your heavy breathing, and the fact that you were becoming light-headed as Suna stepped forward.

“Y/N, baby, I can explain.”

As soon as those words left this lips, your entire world shattered. Letting out a sob, you dropped the phone and used your hands to cover your mouth in horror.

“So you did.”

Suna became panicked as soon as you started crying, holding onto the kitchen table to keep yourself from falling over. The pain that you felt was indescribable, not to mention the absolute betrayal. You had given everything up for Suna- and he repayed you like this?

“Y/N/N, please,” Suna was begging as he moved closer, trying to embrace your crying figure in his arms but you pushed him away, sudden anger taking over you.

“Don’t touch me!” Suna flinched as your damn near threw him off, backing up so far from him. The look in your eyes nearly killed him as you made eye contract, “I don’t want your filthy hands on me now that I know where they’ve been!”

“Y/N...-”

“Shut the fuck up Suna!”

You could no longer control yourself as rage began taking over your body, slowly but surely replacing the tears. The more you processed it - the more you looked at that bastards face and realized that he had went and knocked someone up while you were at home, cooking his dinner - the more infuriated you became.

“I cannot fucking believe you. Like are you serious right now?! I spend all day, all fucking day waiting for you Suna. I cook your food, I run you baths, I do everything I can to make your life less stressful and then you go and do this shit?”

“Baby just listen me, it’s not like that, okay?Whatever you saw- it’s in the past! Me and her- it meant nothing. I realize that now. It’s me and you baby- just us. That’s all I want,” Suna felt tears trailing down his cheeks as he desperately pleaded his case. Desperately grabbing at you, trying to hold you as if that would make everything okay. As if a simple “I’m sorry,” could fix what he broke.

Instead, you found yourself laughing bitterly and fought the urge to smack him in the face. No, you decided you’d have more dignity than that. You’d pack your stuff, peacefully, and leave this asshole here to rot.

“Whatever.”

That was quickly decided in your mind and within seconds, you were shaking your head, scoffing as you pushed passed him and practically ran to your shared bedroom.

“Wait-! Y/N, what are you doing? No, no, no, no!” Suna panicked even more when he followed you and saw that you were hurriedly packing your stuff in a suitcase. It was messy, and you barely had half of your shit but you decided that it’d do. At least until right now. At least until...well, you didn’t really know anymore.

You and Suna, you guys were supposed to be each other’s forever. You were supposed to be endgame, but as it turned out, Suna ruined that before you could even get a ring.

You scoffed again at the prospect of ever marrying him. Now, you began to think about why you even wanted him in the first place. How did you not notice the signs? The lack of effort for weeks until Suna suddenly warmed up again and began treating you like you were his world.

How did you not catch on? How did it completely slip your mind that you were dating a cheater, until the facts suddenly smacked you right in the face?

“What does it look like I’m doing, Rintaro,” You rolled your eyes, zipping the suitcase and then booking it to the bathroom. You quickly grabbed your body wash, all your hair products and then your toothbrush. You lazily threw them in a another bag and then stood up, glaring at Suna who tried to block you from exiting the door.

“Move,” You stared him down, venom lacing your words. “I don’t fucking have time for this.”

“Baby, please,” You flinched as he reached out to touch you, to stroke your cheek with the same hands that had touched her. They were slightly wet, presumably from wiping his tears away, but all you could think about was that you weren’t the only one he had been coming home to. You weren’t the only one he had been fucking and touching.

The thought made you absolutely sick. You were sure that if you didn’t get out now, then you’d puke all over your- his expensive furniture.

“You have to listen to me,” Suna silently cried, his body shaking as he stood there, begging for the one person he needed in his life to stay. “I told you- she means nothing. I don’t want anything to do with her, I only want you, Y/N.”

“And the baby?” Dammit. You couldn’t help yourself. Once again, your anger began to fade as tears gathered in your eyes.

Suna had a child. He had a fucking child with some stranger he’d known less than six months. She was carrying his blood, something that was supposed to be your moment. You were supposed to give him his first child. You were supposed to be the one he shared that part of life with, not her.

“I- what?”

From the looks of it, you’d almost think that Suna didn’t know. His eyes were wide, his whole body stopping as he stared at you incredulously.

And then it hit you.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t even know that she was carrying his baby. He was completely clueless. Both of you were blindsided.

At this, you couldn’t help it. You did laugh, a bitter sound that sounded almost like you were mocking him.

“Wow Rintaro. How fucking stupid could you get?” You let out a watery chuckle, shaking your head as a tear ran down your face. “If you’re gonna cheat and fuck someone else, then at least be smart enough to wear a condom.”

“But I...that’s impossible,” Suna whispered, mostly to himself. “I don’t...I mean she can’t possibly...how did you...?”

“She was blowing up your phone while you were in the shower. How did you think I found out?” You gave him a fake smile. “For someone that doesn’t like putting in a lot of effort, you sure did put a lot into making sure you fucked this relationship up. And then your own life too.”

You hated to say it, but you silently enjoyed the way Suna was going to suffer. At the very least, it was absolutely what he deserved for cheating in the first place. Now, his life was probably going to be ruined. His career, his dreams, everything he had planned...

It was gonna go down the drain.

And you for one were grateful he wasn’t dragging you down with him.

“I...” Suna was at an absolute loss for his words. His whole body slumped, seemingly going numb as he just stayed in the doorway, looking shocked. It gave you the perfect opportunity to push past him, a small smirk on your face despite the searing pain in your heart.

You knew it was serious when he didn’t even try to stop you when you opened the front door.

“I left your phone on kitchen floor. Maybe you should call her. I’m sure you’d like to know more, seeing as it is yours. For your sake, I hope it’s a bouncing baby boy. That’s what you always wanted, right?”

You spoke one last time, making sure to rub salt in the wound before taking a final glance at the man you loved.

He looked broken, a sheer sobbing mess as he still stood in your bedroom door. A part of you couldn’t help but feel bad. You couldn’t help but want to go over and embrace him, dropping everything and tell him that things were gonna work out.

That was the part of you that still loved him.

But the other part...

The other part of you told you that it’s what he deserved. He cheated, and now he has to live with the consequences. Loosing you, and becoming a father at the age of 20.

That was the part of you that gave you the extra push. That was the part of you that gave you the strength to close the door, forever walking away from the man that broke you and the empty house that held all of your dead dreams.

——————————— ☁️ ——————————

BOKUTO KOUTARO

You didn’t believe it. Or more like, you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t wanna shatter your fantasy world, one that you had been living in for four years.

You didn’t want it to break, because if it did...

You didn’t know what you were going to do.

For the last four years Bokuto had been your world. Your absolute rock, your sunshine on a cloudy day. He made you laugh, he made you feel welcome and special like nobody else had before.

Surely...your Bokuto wasn’t capable of this. Surely didn’t...he couldn’t have...

You didn’t even wanna think about it. Bile rose up in your throat every time you thought about it...his lips on hers. Caressing her and holding her the way he was supposed to only hold you.

You didn’t wanna think about it, but yet-

You had no choice as you stared at the pregnant woman before you.

“I’m sorry,” She had tears in her eyes as she sat on your couch, sobbing while simultaneously holding her belly. While holding his baby.

She had come to you only a few hours before, taking you by complete surprise. Never in your life did you ever think you’d come face to face with your boyfriend’s baby momma.

But that’s exactly what had happened.

Apparently, she and Bokuto had both had a one stand a few months ago. It was when he had traveled to Tokyo for a game and you stayed behind because you had school.

It was the one weekend you weren’t there to support him. One weekend...and you had lost him forever.

“It’s not...it’s not your fault,” You told her somewhat awkwardly, although you didn’t really mean it. She had slept with your boyfriend, after all. And now she was pregnant, claiming the baby was 100% his.

That wasn’t even the worst part though.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be mad at her, because she didn’t know. It was a one night thing. She had told you Bokuto had left in tears the next morning, rambling on about how she meant nothing and that he had you to come home to.

She claimed that he regretted it the minute he realized what happened. Crying out about how he was going to propose and then rushing out without so much as a goodbye.

Oh how stupid he was to name drop you.

You almost wished he hadn’t, because that was how she had found you. After finding out that she was pregnant, she tried to reach out to Bokuto only to realize that he was telling the truth. He’d been with you for four years.

But did that really even mean anything anymore?

“It’s just- I just-” The girl shook her head. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. If I had known...if I had any other choice...”

“Actually, I’m sort of glad you reached out to me. Thank you for that. That was good on your part, seeing as I doubt he would have told me,” You smiled numbly, not capable of feeling anything at the moment.

It was like...your entire body was on shut down mode. It had become numb, desperately trying to block out the pain you were sure that was coming. And you, for one, were absolutely grateful. You didn’t wanna think... you didn’t even wanna fathom how broken you were gonna be.

So you didn’t. Instead you kept your thoughts quiet and relished in the numbness.

“You know...” You laughed bitterly, sadly shaking your head as you sighed, “Bokuto’s always wanted a kid. He kept begging me a few weeks ago to have one, but I said no. We’re both so young, you know? We had our whole lives together.”

You hadn’t meant to make her cry even more, but that’s exactly what your words did. They cut a knife through this random girl’s heart, causing her pain that she had stolen that from you. Bokuto, he had taken that from you as well.

“I’m sorry,” Once again, she apologized, but you weren’t much focused on that. Instead, your attention snapped towards the front door as you heard keys jingling outside. With a sharp push, your stomach dropped.

Bokuto was home.

“Hey hey hey! Babe whose car is that-”

Bokuto’s smile suddenly dropped as he walked into the scene, your dull eyes and the girl’s tearful ones ones trained on him. Immediately, his whole demeanor began to crumble down and he nervously looked between the two of you, his shoulders dropping.

“...outside. What’s this?”

“Bokuto, I believe you know her,” You were eerily calm as you pointed towards her, showing no emotion as Bokuto’s eyes flickered to her stomach. “This is Kayla. From Tokyo, right? I think you guys have much to discuss.”

Bokuto was at a loss for words as you rose from the couch, gesturing for him to take your seat. But instead of listening, he decided to make things difficult and run after you like a lost puppy as you made your way to the bedroom.

“Babe, babe wait! Y/N, please baby I can explain. I can explain, I can explain, I swear! Just let me, just please let me-”

“Bokuto,” You stopped him, holding up your hand and shaking your head. “I’m not in the mood, really. Just go talk with her alright? She came all this way to find me, so it’s rude not to.”

“But baby-”

“Go,” You suddenly became firm, gritting your teeth as you stared him. For a second, you took a small pause, and then Bokuto heard the words he never wished to hear his in life. “And don’t you ever call me that ever again, Koutaro.”

“K-Koutaro...?” Bokuto stuttered slightly, reeling back at the use of his first name. “But baby...y-you never call me that. Ever.”

“Oh yeah?” You couldn’t help but laugh on how clueless he was. I mean honestly, you never thought that Bokuto was stupid but now...“Well what the hell else am I supposed to call you? Read the fucking room Bokuto. Your pregnant fucking mistress is sitting on my couch, crying her eyes out and you’re worried about me calling you by your first fucking name? Get a god damn grip.”

For the first time that day, emotion began peaking out from your eyes. Pure anger bubbled up inside of your body, finally manifesting after holding it in for so long.

It felt good, in your opinion, to finally feel something. A delayed reaction, sure, but late was better than never.

“B-But-”

“Shut up,” You rolled your eyes at his trembling form. “I don’t wanna hear anything else from you. So go talk to her. Figure your shit out while I pack mine.”

“No!” Panic was evident in his voice as he suddenly grabbed your arms, preventing you from entering your bedroom. Shocked, you siteuggled in his embrace but Bokuto was extremely strong.

“What the hell? Let me go!”

“Y-Y/N! Baby y-you can’t leave me! You can’t! What about our plans? What about forever and always, you and me?”

“Did you think about that before you got drunk and fucked her?” You snapped harshly, causing him to whimper. “Exactly. So don’t come pulling that bullshit out on me, Bokuto. You’re the one that ruined that.”

“But-” At this point, he was searching for something, anything to make you stay as you shoved him off and then stormed in your shared room. “But baby I- we had this whole plan...I was gonna propose! Please, I...I even got the ring! Here I’ll prove it to you!”

While you were busy running around the room throwing all your stuff together, Bokuto suddenly dashed to the kitchen and retrieved a box he had been storing for a special occasion. He completely ignored the girl that was sitting on his couch, not even sparing her a second glance as he rushed back to you and dropped to his knees.

“See?” He hurriedly opened the box and desperately grabbed your hand, slipping the shiny diamond on before you could even protest. “I had it made for you, Y/N! Pure diamond, princess cut. It’s even engraved with your name baby! Please...”

You had to admit, you wanted to break down as Bokuto began to cry, looking awfully small as he kneeled by your feet. To make matters worse, he kept kissing your hand and mumbling tearful apologizes that yanked at your heartstrings.

By now, your initial exterior had began to crumble. Pain began to surround your heart, squeezing it so bad it almost felt like you were burning. A swell of tears gathered in your eyes, and you almost, almost gave in.

You almost sank to your knees and cried with him, almost pulled him into your arms because you didn’t wanna let go. You loved Bokuto, you truly did, and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him.

He was a good man, that probably made an honest mistake. He was everything you had ever wanted. And you were so tempted...so tempted to give in. Until you realized that you deserved better.

“I’m sorry,” Sniffling slightly, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and shook your head. “But I need to go. I can’t stay here anymore Bokuto...you ruined this. You ruined us, and now you have a woman in there carrying your child. You have the family you’ve always wanted. Don’t ruin that too.”

Hastily, you leaned down to press a bitter kiss on his forehead and then stood back up. Bokuto sobbed as he watched your figure retreat, standing high despite the heartbreak.

It was then that he realized that even though you were letting him go, you’d be just fine. You’d pull yourself together eventually, you were strong like that. You didn’t need him, but god, what about him?

He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. He could barely even breathe and you hadn’t even walked out yet.

Was this what it was going to feel like from now on? Empty, hollow...meaningless?

“Please.”

One last time, he cried out of you. He begged you to stay.

But you knew you deserved better than that.

“I’m sorry.”

And with that, you left him behind. Forever.

#suna x reader #suna angst #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #suna rintaro #bokuto koutaro #hq x reader #hq angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that. 

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries​) and Lu (@meetmymouth​) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N  looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.  

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.  

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.  

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.  

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! 

An extra for our babies can be found here!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #one direction #one direction fanfic #nationalharryleague #mine #harry styles slow burn #harry styles friends to lovers

[wandaromanova]

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #black widow #request done

[raggaraddy]

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

#bts fan fiction #bts reactions #bts fanfic #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #bts #bangtan #bangtan fanfic #yandere #bts yoongi #min yoongi #mafia!bts #Mafia!yoongi #bts yandere

[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

----------

Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

#.al #.idol

[damiano-mylove]

How the members of Måneskin confess their feelings for you

GN!reader and god i love thomas *Masterlist*

Vic

Vic's big reveal wouldn't actually be that big of a reveal, honestly

It would be off-handed for sure.

The two of you would be having one of your staying in nights, drinking sweet glasses of fruity wine and eating cheap bonbons, watching a mellow film

Vic would have your hand in hers; her soft yet calloused hands, that smelt of blood orange and sandalwood hand cream

After placing a soft kiss to your knuckles to get you attention, she gave you a sweet smile

'How about a nail day tomorrow?'

She'd never been perturbed by chipped nail polish, so her offer made you chuckle a bit

'Are they really that atrocious?'

Vic's face got hot and her eyes seemed to shine in the dim lamp light of the room. She looked away subtly to the television, where her face was then occupied by bright colours. She smiled, seemingly to herself.

'The person I love deserves only the best'

Now it was your turn for your face to grow hot

There was no doubt that Vic didn't mean these words, but it was the first that she'd voiced her love for you (to you) aloud

You couldn't help but nudge her face to look back at yours, then joining your lips with her ever soft ones

This kiss was unlike any other than you had ever shared - it was as if time had paused just for the two of you to enjoy the moment fully. Even the noises from the television seemed to dim and the room got a degree warmer

Of course it was different. You were kissing the woman you loved with the knowledge that she felt the exact same way.

Thomas

For Thomas 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you' are two completely different sentences that convey two completely different feelings

Early on, he began ending phone calls with 'ti amo', then saying those same words every time you parted ways with the beautiful man

Not too early on, of course. He didn't want to scare you away, and he never pressured you to return those words

But one night, about six months into your relationship, Thomas took you to dinner

It was an extremely nice dinner; almost too rich for either of your bloods

Thomas went with you to get your nails done, he told you to wear your nicest attire, and he seemed quite nervous in the days leading up to the dinner after he asked

You were worried he'd ask for your hand in marriage

But he didn't

Thomas took you to a very hoity toity restaurant in Rome, where all the patrons were wearing their nice pearls and extremely smart suits, where the air smelt of caviar and expensive perfumes

Dinner went very well - you got an extremely finely cooked meal, as did Thomas, and you had the best wine you'd ever had in your entire life, and the quartet that was playing seemed to know just the way to get you relaxed and happy

Just as dessert and coffee were being brought out for you two, Thomas took your hand from across the table and smiled (a smile that seemed to reach you soul and caress it)

'Y/n, I just want to say you have absolutely no obligation to accept nor to feel the same as I do' You definitely thought he was about to propose

Your heart began to race like you'd run a marathon and you tried not to think about sweaty palms, lest you summon sweaty palms

Thomas smiled, 'I'm in love with you, completely. My heart belongs to you. And my question for you, Y/n, is if you'd like...to move in with me?'

By the Jesus, that was a weight off your shoulders

You almost began crying, but your makeup was so nice tonight that you had to stop yourself. All of a sudden, you got very warm and tingly, and all you could do was nod like a fool

Thomas was worried by your reaction, thinking you were about to meltdown or something

Until you brought his fingers to your lips and kissed each one, then said, 'I'm completely in love with you as well'

Dessert was amazing

Ethan

Ethan would take the longest to actually put his love for you into words

He never thought that words would be able to do justice to his feelings for someone as wonderful as you; perhaps he would undershot and offend you, or perhaps he would overshot and scare you

Ethan saw it as a double edged sword, admitting his feelings

Of course, he took the more than words approach

When he finally came to terms with his love for you, he would become more comfortable with every aspect of his life with you by his side

He would let his hand rest on your thigh while he drove, he would tap out small rhythms on your back in the mornings when you'd lie on your stomach, he would play with and braid you hair in tiny pieces when you'd rest your head on his lap

Ethan would also do the most subtle things for you

He would open doors for you - sweeping behind them so you may go before him, he would untuck your chair for you then tuck you back in once you sat, he would notice when you were running low on something and get another for you, without even asking him to

In the end, Ethan's confession came in the night

He had thought you to be asleep and he was massaging small circles into your bicep with him thumb

Ethan would place a oft kiss to your temple and use Mr. Darcy's words, even though he thought you'd never hear his words, 'You have bewitched me body and soul. I love you.'

You didn't want to ruin the moment with some stupid remark, so you just backed into him gently and had a soft smile on your lips

His words came as no surprise, because he didn't need to say those words to make his love real, and you both knew that

Damiano

Romance was Damiano's game, there wasn't a single person alive who would dispute that

But with you, it was different

His tongue got tied, his stomach held butterflies, his heart almost hurt - this was true love, and it affected Damiano in ways no one could even conceive

The mere day Damiano discovered and labeled his feelings for you, it was like a cosmic shift

He had spent the night debating every aspect of it - wanting to be absolutely sure, not knowing if he should just tell you right away for wait, did you love him back?

The change was palpable to everyone around you, not just you

Damiano's eyes studied your ever move, as if you were just a dream that he didn't want to forget when he woke up, as if you were an angel who walked the Earth

You felt very strongly, in the exact same way for him, and you had for some time now

But Damiano's words came a few days after the shift in his behaviour

As he was dropping you off at your house, with a passionate but sweet kiss on your doorstep, Damiano held your waist tightly and close to him - holding you like a crystal glass that you'd never risk dropping but wouldn't risk squeezing to breaking

'I love you so fucking much'

His words were mumbled against your lips warmly, making a masisve smile rip across your face, and his as well

'I love you too, Dami'

After that night, the game was all over

Damiano began writing you love poems every week, and sent flowers randomly to your house, with the cards always reading 'Love, D.D'

for @grizzbbearr i hope it lives up to expectation🦦

#måneskin #maneskin #victoria de angelis #victoria maneskin #victoria de angelis x reader #thomas raggi #thomas maneskin #thomas raggi x reader #ethan torchio #ethan maneskin #ethan torchio x reader #damiano #damiano david #damiano maneskin #damiano david x reader #fanfic #x reader

[diamond-coral]

Bargaining Chip

Hello! This is my first time posting on Tumblr ever:) I pulled this one-shot from a fic I posted on AO3 a few months ago but the plot is irrelavent and I changed it from first person to second as well as some details so it can be read as a stand alone. There’s some plot from the actual story but you really don’t need to know it at all.

There might be a few errors, especially because I changed the entire point of view and converted it to present tense from past tense so sorry:) 

Loki manages to get his hands on you and exchanges you and your body for his ticket to independence from the Avengers. Bucky gets to go first.

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters included: Loki, and a little bit of Tony, Steve, and Thor

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY!!! SMUT (NON-CON TOUCHING, FORCED ORAL SEX (m receiving), KNIFE THREATS, DARK! AVENGERS, BUCKY’S AN ASSHOLE IN THIS, DEGRADATION, BASICALLY FORCED PROSTITUTION) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

You awake in the passenger seat of your own car with only foggy memories of you and your partner before everything had gone dark. Your mission from the CIA...breaking and entering the motherfucking Avenger’s facility and managing to escape...you were so close. If it weren’t for him. In your haze, you look to see who could possibly have the audacity to be driving your car, and there sits Loki, the God of Mischief, who you had only scene on the news, driving one hand and inspecting something in his other.

“Good evening my lady. Sleep well?” he mocks without taking his eyes off the item in his hand which upon further inspection from you looks to be... a red leash?

What the hell?

“I do hope you like your outfit,” he continues. “I think I assembled quite the get up for you.”

Looking down, you let out a muffled scream that was cut off by a strip of duct tape. Your hands are bound in your lap, but that isn’t what horrifies you. It’s what’s underneath them. You take into account your bare legs, fully on display, with a black dress leaving little to the imagination. The top half is just as horrifying with it’s plunging neckline. Your legs end with a pair of strappy gold heels that ensures any chances of running away to be futile while your upper arms are adorned in golden bracelets accented with emeralds. Whether the emeralds were real or fake, you could care less. You have bigger problems to worry about.

“What the fuck?!”

Is what you try to say, but the gag only makes it come out as a mangled ball of muffled murmurs. Though the chuckle Loki lets out implies he understands your enraged speaking attempt.

“You, my dear, are going to be a bargaining chip. I heard about your little escapade at the Avenger’s facility last night. Impressive, I must say, but my brother and his little hero posse had been looking for you relentlessly after that. They are practically obsessed with catching the women that managed to break into their high security building.”

Loki takes a sharp turn into a parking garage, narrowly missing the wall. You squeal as your precious car runs over the curb.

“I forgot how much I hate mortal transportation devices. But Stark had to build this tower in the middle of New York to feed his ever-growing ego and now I’m the one that has to rely on a car to get me there,” he grumbles while pulling into a parking space. He takes a deep breath once the car is parked. “Now, I’m going to remove that gag out of your mouth, and if you scream, I will peel your skin off of your body in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. Understood?”

You nod frantically and he rips the tape off, extracting a whimper from your now stinging mouth. You open your mouth for him to take the wad of cloth out that was under the duct tape. As he extracts it, you snap your mouth shut in an attempt to bite him, but he’s quick to evade and grabs your jaw harshly.

“What did I say before?” he seethes. 

“You said not to scream. I didn’t scream. Now let go of my face.”

Loki roughly throughs your face to the side, letting go, and looks around the surroundings of the car, probably checking for any unwanted onlookers.

“Out of the car. Now,” he orders and you hastily oblige using your bound hands to open the door.

As you shut the door, you catch a glimpse of your own reflection and grimace. You look like a hooker. Aside from the skimpy outfit, your hair was pinned up and intertwined with gold strands. Your makeup is done as well. Sultry eye shadow and dark red lipstick.

“I didn’t know the God of Mischief was a makeup guru,” you jab.

He ignores you and harshly pushes you forward. “Walk.”

“Where’s my partner?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Loki replies. “She has other uses than the one I currently need you for.”

“And what use am I needed for?”

“I already told you. By the gods, you mortals are stupid. You are to be a bargaining chip, (Y/N).”

Your blood runs cold. “How do you know my name?” you ask.

“I know everything about you. Including your peculiar abilities.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

“Now, don’t worry,” he adds. “As amusing to me as it would be, I have no interest in enlightening the Avengers to your secret identity. As far as they will know, I am simply giving them the criminal that broke into their compound.”

“And what’s in it for you?” you ask as he guidesyou into an elevator.

After pushing a button, he goes to fix his dark green tie. “Clever girl now aren’t you?”

“Answer the question.”

“How about-no?” he muses and a soft ding resonates through the elevator.

The doors opened and, for a moment, you forget the predicament your in. Inside was the most beautiful penthouse you had ever seen. The opposite wall was made entirely out of glass allowing a view of the New York City night skyline. Everything little piece of furniture each looks as expensive as your car, but your focus becomes drawn to the minibar. The Avengers were all sitting there, laughing, and most were obviously drunk.

“Here James, try some of this,” Thor booms.

Bucky makes a face. “Why would I drink something from another planet meant for Gods?”

“Jeez Buck it’s the only thing that can get you and I drunk,” Steve slurs and claps Bucky on the shoulder. “It’s your birthday. Live it up a little.”

Bucky hesitates before grabbing the flask Thor offers him and throwing his head back, downing the flask in one go.

Loki seems to have enough of the party scene as he clears his throat to interrupt them.

“Gentlemen-”

Before Loki uttered another word all the Avengers clambered from their seats to grab their weapons, but their intoxicated state just makes it a comical sight. Captain America falls over in an attempt to reach for his shield below the table. Tony Stark’s iron man mask smacks him over the head as he fails to turn in time to catch it on his face. Sam Wilson chokes on his drink and falls backwards off his barstool in shock.

“I come bearing no ill tidings.” Loki spread his arms.

“Then why bother coming at all?” Thor growls, shifting his hammer to his right hand.

“I’ve come to make an offer.”

With that, Loki snatches your wrist and throws you towards him and the other men. You stumbled in you stilettos and let out a yelp as you land on the floor looking up at the 5 present Avengers: Thor, the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Iron Man, and the Falcon. They all look down on you with perplexed looks etched onto their faces.

“You guys have been so caught up and stressed about finding your security breaches that I was generous enough to do some finding myself,” Loki explains.

“And how do we know you didn’t just pluck some prostitute off the street?” Caps eyes rake up and down your body.

Loki scoffs. “Always the skeptic captain. Does this answer your question?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flash-drive.

Tony snatches it from his hands. “Jarvis, what’s on this drive?” he asks, holding the drive up to a scanner in the glasses he’s wearing.

“It appears to be the files you have been collecting the 2 vigilantes you have been tracking and-.”

“Okay thanks J!” Tony interrupts quickly before Jarvis could spill any more information. He proceeds to storm up to your cowering and kneeling form that hadn’t dared move and harshly grabs your jaw.

Jesus, what was with these men and your poor, bruised jaw?

“Why would you possibly need this information?” he asks calmly, but his eyes are feral. He studies you and his brows furrow. Did he manage to piece it all together that you were the alleged vigilante they had been hunting? He lets go of your jaw and throws you back on the floor. “What business do you have looking for them?”

Looking for them? You let out a sigh of relief.

“None of your business,” you spit.

“Anyways,” Loki continues, and the drive suddenly disintegrated in Tony’s hand while reappearing in Loki’s. “I will happily hand over this seemingly important information along with the girl for you to do with her as you please, but…” He pauses. “Only if you stop tracking my current whereabouts.”

“And why would we do that, Loki? You’re dangerous,” Steve notes.

“I was dangerous,” Loki interjects. “I have been a good boy haven’t I? I would like to lead a normal life without you imbeciles tailing my every move. If I slip, Thor here will know within the second if I’m involved with anyone wrong doings, won’t you brother dear?”

Thor grunts at that statement.

“Besides, Stark’s satellite can track any magical energy if I use it. Which I won’t.”

“Fine. Now hand over the drive,” Tony snaps and holds his hand out.

After Loki drops the small gadget into Tony’s hand, he hauls you up and spins you around to face him.

His voice is quiet and low. “Be glad I didn’t tell them about my plans for you friend. It would be a shame if they found out about her abilities...and yours.”

He spins you back around to face the 5 men whose eyes were now raking up and down your body. “Easy on the eyes isn’t she?” Loki mentions, hands falling on your waist making you squirm. “You know, I almost considered keeping her for myself. Her exotic beauty is that of a pleasure maiden on Asgard.” Your struggles are invigorated at his implications. “Enjoy your whore.” And with that, he gives you one final shove before vanishing.

It’s silent for half a minute before one of the men speak up.

“Alright who wants to take her for a spin?” Tony asks, clapping his hands together. “I vote the birthday boy gets first dibs. Huh, Buckaroo?”

You blanch at the idea. Were they really going to go through with what Loki wanted? What happened to the valiant heroes you saw on your screen?

“Wait Tony, you can’t be seriously considering Loki’s suggestion?” Sam Wilson sounds surprised.

Tony shrugs. “Why not, Birdie? It’s either this or high security prison and I don’t think she wants to rot in a cell.”

“She is standing right here and would rather rot in hell than do what Loki had in mind,” you hiss.

“Well it’s a good thing we weren’t asking for her opinion,” Tony says.

“Tony’s right, Sam,” Steve adds slowly. “We bust our asses out there. We deserve something nice.”

“Day after day we save this pathetic world, and no thanks are given. Just everyone saying what we did wrong. We should’ve left the world to fend for itself after they tried shoving those ridiculous accords down our throats,” Thor murmurs

Sam raises both of his hands up in defense. “Fine. Do what you want with her. I’m gonna head out.” And with that he leaves. Your heart sinks, watching the only glimmer of hope, your knight in shining armor, walk out the door. Your self-pity party is cut short by an arm snaking around your waist.

Bucky Barnes, trained assassin, mass murderer, and now current Avenger, puts his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, sending shivers down your spine while you stand frozen like a deer in headlights. “What do you say, doll? Wanna finish what we started the other night?” His hand on your waist slowly drifts down to your ass.

You stomp your heel down on his foot eliciting a groan of pain. “Last time I checked, you were in the dirt, and I was driving away that night after a successful robbery. There’s nothing to finish.”

He moves quickly as he rips your hair out of what’s securing it up, using the opportunity to tangle his hand into the roots and drag you away to a separate room. He wrenches open and throws you in, leaving you to stumble and trip. A searing pain on your forehead signaled that you hit your head.

“How about we use that snarky mouth of yours for something better hmm?” His voice is ice cold with malice as he grips your hair and yanks you up.

You cry out in pain, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneers down at you. Hearing the sound of a belt unbuckling and pants unzipping, you shut your eyes.

A tear escapes, cascading down your face, but his thumb gently wipes it away.

“Open your eyes, doll,” he coos.

You shake your head and screw them shut even tighter.

“I said...OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!” he roars and your eyes fly open only to see his member sticking out of his slacks right in front of your face. He’s almost fully hard as precum dribbles out of the tip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now, since you can’t seem to keep your snarky mouth shut, let’s put it to better use. How bout that?”

You don’t move, and he sighed as you look down to the floor. You hear some shuffling, a small click, and suddenly something cold and sharp is pressing under your chin, tilting your gaze to his steel blue eyes.

“Let’s try this again.” He pushes the knife harder, digging it a little deeper, but not enough to draw blood. A knife. This dirty bastard has a knife. “Suck. My. Cock.”

Pushing all your pride aside, you direct your gaze to the task in front of you. Bucky lets out an approving hum and the knife is removed from your throat. You swallow before opening your mouth and dragging your tongue from his base to the tip before wrapping your lips around him and sucking lightly.

Bucky was no slacker down there, you had to give him that. You ease your mouth down his shaft and his head tilts back.

“Oh fuck that’s it,” he moans. “Take my dick down your throat.” He grunts. His metal hand fists your hair to push your head down, sliding a few more inches into your throat. “Oh-that’s a good whore,” he breathes.

A gag is torn from you and you slap your hands against his thighs to imply you couldn’t take much more. Bucky’s only response is another grunt as he jams the rest of his length down your throat leaving your only intake of oxygen to come from your nose which was now mashed right above the base of his thick cock. As quickly as he pushed you down before, he pulls you back off by your hair, letting you go to wretch, gasping for air and freedom. A strand of saliva still connects from his tip to my lips.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He snags your hair again. “Open wide, slut.”

You do just that and he begins to fuck your throat at his own pace, sliding his entire length down every time. Tears brim at your eyes, not just from the lack of oxygen, but the humiliation of the moment as well. The time passes much too slowly for your liking, minutes dragging on for eternity, before he begins to reach his climax.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His cock twitches in your mouth.He holds your head with both hands as he releases straight into your mouth, warm thick strands of his release coating the back of your throat. He pulls out  with a pop and smirks down at you. “Good little sluts swallow” he orders.

You glare up at him, making a show of not doing anything.

“Well?” he demands and raises a dark brow.

You spit his own climax onto his expensive shoes.

“Why you-!” He raises his hand, getting ready to send a smack to your face.

“Barnes!” A female voice comes from the doorway as the door flies open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

There stood none other than the Black Widow.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #non-con #bucky x female reader #dark!fic #loki x reader #avengers #idk how to tag this #fanfic #am i doing this tag thing right? #no i'm not #smut #dark!mcu #marvel #dark bucky x reader #dark!marvel

[boowanie]

Pairing: Ceo!Wonwoo x Secretary!reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff-ish

Warning: Suggestive

W/C: 2k+

Summary: Falling in love with your boss was never on your agenda, or so you thought.

Eri’s note: I’ve been dying to write a ceo!wonwoo scenario and here she is!! aaah, i hope you beans enjoy this! I think this is my favourite of mine so far 💘

The cold rain seeped into your clothes as you padded your way back to your empty apartment. You were absolutely exhausted. Words were not enough to explain how tired you were of your boss but being broke left you with no choice but to stick around as Wonwoo’s secretary.

When you first met him, you couldn’t deny that he made your heart skip a beat with how beautiful he was. However, as soon as he opened his mouth, the image you momentarily created in your mind was shattered. He was always working you harder than your other co-workers even when the tasks weren’t even your responsibility.

You finally caught sight of your apartment building and a small sigh of relief left your lips. You were definitely drenched when you reached your apartment door, shivering as you opened your door. On a normal day, you would have slipped your shoes off at the front door but tonight was different. You went straight to the bathroom, leaving wet footsteps and drops of water along the way. The warmth of the water coming out of your shower fogged up your small bathroom as you finally discarded the wet clothes you were in.

Once you stepped into the shower, your thoughts led you back to the events that happened before you walked home.

—

Wonwoo was yelling at one of his employees yet again. You could hear him demanding for the work that he tasked her to do. You flinched as your co-worker finally snapped, yelling at him with the same tone.

“You know what, I fucking quit Jeon Wonwoo. Fuck you and fuck your stupid company! I’d rather be jobless than stay here for another day. I don’t know how y/n has managed to stay by your side for the past 5 years.”

You and the other employees turned towards the door as soon as she stepped out, visible tears tumbling down her cheeks. Some of your co-workers stood up to comfort her while some avoided her incase Wonwoo saw. You, on the other hand, were called into his office. You sighed, picking up the files he wanted you to sort out during lunch.

“Close the door,” he murmured as soon as you stepped into his office. You did as you were told and walked slowly to his table where he was leaning back against his chair with his eyes tightly shut. You carefully placed the files on his desk, not wanting to disturb your boss’ silence.

“Can you stay for awhile?” he whispered, eyes opening to stare at you. You blinked back, your eyes softening at the sight of him and the dark circles that were visible under his eyes. You nodded as you took the spare seat and pulling it over to Wonwoo’s side.

“What do you need help with, Mr. Jeon?”

“Just need you here to calm me down.” He stated, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

—

When you turned the shower off, you came to a conclusion that Jeon Wonwoo liked to confuse you. He confused you with his actions. Despite the fact that he gave you more work than anybody else in the company, he also cared about you. Wonwoo didn’t mind when you handed files to him late nor did he care whenever he saw you nodding off at your desk. Your co-workers noticed how more lenient he was on you but they never made a comment because they saw how much work Wonwoo gave you on a daily basis.

You finally sat down on your sofa, ordering some food to eat to reward yourself after Wonwoo made you stay behind again to help him with some documents he was reviewing. You remember trying to stiffle numerous yawns as you worked through some documents and you could feel the frustration building up within him.

“You know what, just go home y/n. It’s clear to me that you’d rather be sleeping,” he said, plopping the loose papers on his desk before turning towards you. Your eyes widened at the sharp gaze he threw at you and you felt your heart momentarily clench.

“Won-, Mr. Jeon, it’s past midnight. I think we both need to rest,” you stared back, watching as he ran his fingers through his hair. He leaned back against his chair, watching you with blank eyes.

“Just go.” He turned his body away from you, leaving you staring at his back that was now hunched over his wooden desk.

“Fine.”

—

Once your food delivery arrived, you took your spot on your sofa again, watching reruns of your favourite show. You sighed as your mind began wandering back to Wonwoo.

“Fuck this,” you grabbed your phone, dialing the man that was occupying your mind.

On the third ring, he finally picked up. You could hear some shuffling in the background as you asked if he had gone home. You waited for his answer as silence consumed you both.

“Can I come over?” he whispered, hearing sniffles coming from his end. Your heart clenched at the sadness evident in his voice.

“I-i’ll leave the door unlocked,” you whispered back.

—

Again, Jeon Wonwoo confused you as he began to nip at the soft skin of your neck. Your hands ran through his hair, tugging his locks softly as he continued to pepper your neck with wet kisses, sighing as he left a subtle bruise on your collarbone.

“Talk to me sweetheart,” he groaned against your neck. You moaned when he slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders, loving his gentle touches that burned agaisnt your skin. However, as he continued to leave kisses on your skin, your mind wandered back to everything that happened that day. You pulled away just before he could undo the clasp of your bra.

“W-what are we doing Wonwoo,” you breathed out, pushing his body away from you. He sighed, leaning back on your headboard. You avoided his gaze and stared at your legs that were situated on either side of his thighs.

“Don’t you like what we have y/n?” he asked, pulling your chin up with his hand.

“What exactly do you call this Wonwoo? I’m your secretary for crying out loud,” you replied with frustration.

“We can’t keep doing this. I-i can’t keep pretending like i’m not inlove with you while we’re at work,” you cried, tears sliding down your cheeks as you lightly thumped your hands against his bare chest.

“Baby,” he mumbled, taking your shivering figure into his embrace. You cried against the skin of his shoulder while he rubbed his hand on your back.

“I-i think I should quit Wonwoo,” you sniffled.

“If I stay in your company any longer, I’ll just end up breaking my own heart,” you decided, removing your self from his embrace. You wiped your tears with the back of your hands while getting off his lap.

“I think you should leave now Wonwoo, I’ll hand in my resignation letter later on.”

—

You arrived at the company early in the morning, your hands carrying folded boxes to put your things in. You heard soft mutters when you began to clear your belongings that were neatly organised on your desk.

Once you finished, you made your way towards Wonwoo’s office, gently knocking on his door to bid him your final goodbye.

“Come in.”

He looked up, pushing his metal glasses up when he saw you standing by the door. You took a deep breath before walking towards his desk, your resignation letter in hand. You placed it beside his arm before looking up at Wonwoo again.

“Thank you for the past 5 years, Mr. Jeon,” you bowed. He didn’t say anything and began working on the files that he was holding not too long ago.

“Bye Wonwoo,” you whispered, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall.

—

Four months passed by before you finally got a job at a photography studio. Before becoming Wonwoo’s secretary, you were an aspiring photographer that only studied business to please your parents. You were beyond happy when Mingyu, your boss, called you to offer you the job you applied for.

The first month and a half was hectic, shooting for different companies and artists was something you never imagined to be doing in your life time.

“Y/n, I need you to come with me to a really important photoshoot,” Mingyu chucked a popcorn at your direction. You swatted another incoming popcorn as you tried to place your camera down.

“Sure, who are we shooting for tomorrow?”

“My bestfriend and his family,” he smiled.

“Time?”

“10 in the morning,” he replied, munching on another popcorn.

“I’ll see you then,” you waved goodbye at your boss turned close friend.

—

You couldn’t believe your eyes when you entered the venue. Mingyu texted you that he would be arriving in less than 10 minutes. Your eyes landed on Wonwoo who was staring at you, shock evident on his face. You were shooting for The Jeons. Well shit, you thought. Wonwoo’s mother greeted you, leading you to a small section of the room where she told you you could place your belongings.

You thanked her, grabbing your phone to dial Kim Mingyu.

“Where the heck are you?” you panicked, looking around the room.

“Right behind you, you dumbass,” Mingyu chuckled, bumping your head with his camera bag. You glared at him as he continued to chuckle at you.

—

Throughout the whole photoshoot, your eyes tried to avoid meeting Wonwoo’s. Mingyu noticed the subtle glances that two of his friends were giving. He couldn’t help but shake his head when he finally took the last shot.

“We can call it a day, Mr and Mrs Jeon,” he politely said to Wonwoo’s parents. They both thanked you and Mingyu for your hard work while Wonwoo’s brother waved at you both with a smile before leaving with his parents. Wonwoo, on the other hand, decided to stay. You couldn’t deny how fast your heart was beating throughout the entire photoshoot.

“Thank you Mingyu and y/n,” he patted Mingyu’s back and gave you a small smile. You sligtly bowed at his direction before busying yourself with packing up. Mingyu and Wonwoo began to talk about something you didn’t understand while you tried to place your camera back into your bag.

“Hey y/n, do you need a ride back to your apartment?” Mingyu asked as you finally gathered all your belongings. You shook your head “no”, leaving both of them in the room.

“See you tomorrow, boss.”

—

It was around midnight when you heard a knock on your door. You were clad in nothing but a loose t-shirt that you were certain was Wonwoo’s and cotton shorts. You padded your way towards your door, looking through the peephole to find Wonwoo standing behind the door wearing grey sweatpants and a loose hoodie.

You opened the door, confused as to why Wonwoo showed up at your door after months of him not being here. He spoke gently, asking if he could come in to talk to you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, sitting back down on your sofa. He followed suite, keeping a small distance between you two. He shrugged, looking at his hands. Silence consumed you both while you stared at your midnight snack that was abandoned on the coffee table.

“Again Wonwoo, what are you doing here?” you asked firmly.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you so much, sweetheart,” he sobbed into his palms. Your heart clenched at his words, reaching out to pull him into your chest.

“I’m so sorry baby. When you said that you were going to leave, I thought it was for the best. I didn’t want to break your heart any further but I realised how stupid I was. How much of a coward I was being when I continued to lead you on for years,” he breathed against your neck.

“I’m so inlove you y/n y/l/n, and I was wonderinrg if you could still forgive me and ask for another chance?” he peered up at you through his tears. You wiped them gently while he wiped your own tears that were falling down your cheeks.

“Why’d you only come back for me now?” you whispered.

“I wanted to give you the space you deserved. I-i knew you were working for Mingyu two months ago when he mentioned your name during a conversation,” he stated. He pulled away from your hug, grabbing your waist to pull you on top of his lap. You straddled him, leaning the side of your head against his chest.

“Are you willing to take me back y/n?”

“Just make sure to ask me to be yours this time around, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He grinned at your words, “I love you so much.”

#wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt angst

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Seven

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 4,241

Warning: Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

In the dark, you began to search for your phone to shine some light and, as you were reaching for the bedside table, your hands brushed Cillian a couple of time until you found it.

‘You were saying?’ you chuckled as you turned the little light on your phone on, flashing it towards Cillian.

‘It’s difficult Y/N’ Cillian then said, covering his eyes and you simply nodded.

‘That’s just life sometimes Cilly. I am sure you will find your way with whoever she is’ you then said, caressing his cheek gently before standing up.

‘Remember the last time we were in a blackout together?’ Cillian then asked, causing you to nod.

‘Oh my god yes. It was at your holiday house in Kerry and Danielle was freaking out, thinking that we will never get back to civilisation’ you laughed, remembering that night very well.

‘She was high so I can see how this happened’ Cillian laughed, before turning on the light on his phone as well.

‘Well, I don’t have any Weed but there is a whole bottle of red wine in the kitchen and a cabinet full of board games’ you suggested before gathering some candles while Cillian lid the fireplace in the living room for some extra light.

After you threw a few blankets and pillows down in front of the fireplace and Cillian eventually found his reading glasses, you started with some Scrabble but, usurpingly, after you finished half of the bottle of red wine, this soon became too difficult when you made one spelling mistake after another.

‘You are hopeless’ Cillian eventually observed as he won again, using the most absurd words he could think off after you only scored some points with words like ‘Soup’ and ‘Breasts’.

‘Well, how about a game that I am good at, huh?’ you laughed as you pulled out the Twister mat.

‘You don’t think that we are a little too tipsy for Twister?’ Cillian laughed, remembering that, the last time you played this game drunk, he ended up with four stitches.

‘Nope! I will catch you if you fall’ you chuckled as you started to warm up and opened up the ‘Twister-For-Two’ App on your iPhone which was giving you both directions with thirty second intervals.

‘Jesus, I am getting too fucking old for this’ Cillian said before getting into position, showing off his strong legs which immediately caused you to bite your lips. The fact that he wasn’t wearing anything but his black briefs and a grey t-shirt certainly was an incentive for you.

Left foot blue!

He was certainly getting an easy start, at least so he thought.

Right hand yellow!

But clearly, he was wrong when he watched you bend over right in front of him wearing your rather short Pyjamas featuring Bambi.

‘Interesting clothing choice’ Cillian chuckled as Bambi was staring right at him, covering your deliciously round ass.

‘Get your eyes off my ass Murphy’ you laughed but, deep down inside you didn’t mind him staring at you.

After just five minutes, both of your hands and feet were on the mat and so were Cillian’s.

By this point, Cillian and you had managed to thoroughly tangle yourselves together in a laughing mess and, at right foot yellow, Cillian accidentally bumped your breast. Slightly surprised, you took little notice.

Cillian on the other hand began to struggle as, once again, his manhood began to stir.

‘Seriously?’ he thought to himself as, just moments earlier, he couldn’t get himself into the mood with Lindsay and now that he wanted to prevent exactly this from happening, he couldn’t and was hard as a rock.  

At right hand green, things had become too much for him as you had to slide your right hand along Cillian’s inner thigh on your way to green. As you slowly moved into position, you got a glimpse of what was happening in between Cillian’s legs but yet, you pretended that you didn’t notice his erection.

‘Fuck, that’s it, you won. My back is sore’ Cillian suddenly huffed out, standing up abruptly before walking to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but grin as Cillian shouted out to see whether you wanted another glass of wine.

‘Yes please’ you giggled rather pleased with yourself but still, you thought that it was simply the friction that aroused him.

‘Do you want another game?’ you asked when he returned with two full glasses and, unsurprisingly, Cillian shook his head which is when you began talking.

You talked about almost everything and anything for about thirty minutes while sitting on the blanket together in between the scented candles and the fireplace.

By this point Cillian’s erection had subsided and you were curious as to whether it was you who caused it in the first place or whether it was something else.

‘Despite the blackout and you breaking it off with Lindsay, I thought that tonight was really fun’ you eventually observed after you finished your glass of wine

‘Well, you are a lot of fun to be around which makes it pretty easy’ Cillian said, finishing off his wine as well.

He smirked and shrugged. His eyes dropped and he started to trace a design on the crumpled blanket with his finger as if he wanted to say something else.

‘Can you ask you a question?’ you then asked out of the blue after having built up some courage.

‘Of course’ Cillian responded as his eyes lifted to yours, and you almost lost your nerve.

‘You, uhm, seemed to have enjoyed the game of Twister a lot more than I had anticipated’ you said, biting your lip nervously while looking down at his crotch.

Cillian immediately blushed, the flush spreading down his neck and the top of his muscular chest. Mortified, he looked at you with wide eyes and his right hand rose to his forehead.

‘Oh, god, Y/N…I am so sorry, it’s just that…the wine…and….’ Cillian shuddered nervously, realising that you saw his arousal and, before he could finish his sentence, you quickly leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, just above the collar of his t-shirt where some of his chest hair was sticking out. Your palm tingled against the soft spatter of hair there.

‘Cillian, don't! I didn't mean to embarrass you’ you suddenly blurted out as you felt bad that you had, but also stimulated at the thought that you might have aroused him and that, perhaps, it wasn’t just a coincidence.

You were suddenly very aware of the soft, warm skin beneath your hand, and the warm wetness in your panties.

‘I promise you'll never say anything about it again, I just...I have to know...was it friction from the game, or was it, you know...me?’ you then asked, retreating you hand momentarily from his chest and squinting your eyes nervously.

Cillian sighed heavily and grabbed your hand, placing it back against his chest after you leaned away a little. His heart was racing, and you thought yours might pound straight out of your ribcage.

‘It wasn't the friction Y/N’ he then admitted and your breath caught in your throat.

‘I don’t know what it was or what it is, but I know it’s you. I am attracted to you’ Cillian then explained, causing you to grin excitedly.

‘So, when you just got aroused, what did you think about’ you asked as you played with his chest hair.

‘Y/N, we’ve been friends for so many fucking years and I don’t want to ruin this’ Cillian said almost embarrassed and you cut him off again.

‘Yes, and friends tell each other the truth. So, tell me, what was on your mind just then on the Twister mat?’ you asked, causing Cillian to sigh heavily again.

‘I was wondering what you would taste like’ Cillian said almost heavy hearted, admitting his desire for you before apologising for it.

Your heart felt like it stopped. Your entire body tingled, and warmth spread through your belly, snaking straight between your legs. This could absolutely be a dream.

‘Why don't you kiss me and find out?’ you said with husky voice as you moved your face closer to his.

With no hesitation, Cillian’s free hand moved around the back of your neck as his full lips met yours.

Your eyes closed and you opened your mouth, allowing his soft tongue to explore. He pulled you in and kissed you harder while you wrapped your arms around him to run your hands along his back and shoulders.

This continued for quite some times with neither of you being able to let go of the other as you smiled, kissed and moaned into each other’s mouths. Eventually, Cillian wound his hand in your long hair and broke the kiss to move his mouth to your ear.

As it was, you moaned, you shivered, and you dug your nails into his back. Your enthusiastic response drove him to be even more aggressive. He pushed you onto your back and rolled on top of you, the growing bulge in his briefs pressing directly into the spreading wetness between your legs. You gasped at the gratifying sensation.

Cillian pushed himself onto his palms, concerned.

‘This will change everything between us. Do you want this?’ Cillian asked.

‘I wanted this for over a fucking month Cillian. If you don’t fuck me now, I will never forgive you’ you huffed out almost breathlessly and slightly tipsy, causing Cillian to chuckle.

Of course, he wanted it as badly and as much as you did, but he was still somewhat worried about your long-lasting friendship and thought that, ideally, you should both be talking about this first. You needed to clarify what this was and what you were going to become after you slept with each other.

But the wine and his raging erection eventually got the better of him and you immediately wrapped your arms around him to keep him on top of you.

You ground your hips into his and forced his lips to yours, bringing his full weight back to your waiting body. His hot mouth made it back to your neck and ears, and you moaned again, biting your lip in an attempt to stifle the noises he was eliciting from you. He propped himself up on one forearm and began to explore your eager body with his other hand.

He was teasing you, tauntingly caressing you through the thin pyjamas shirt you wore. You writhed beneath his palm, wanting more. His hair wasn't long, but long enough that you could wind your fingers into it and guide his ear into your mouth.

You toyed with it, tracing it with your tongue, sliding the lobe between your teeth, enjoying hearing his breath get heavier and feeling his cock getting harder as he kneaded your breast through the t-shirt. Then he stopped.

‘Y/N’ Cillian huffed out, causing you to enquire why he stopped.

‘I saw you, earlier in the bath when you were masturbating’ he admitted.

‘You looked away though didn’t you?’ you smirked, causing him to shake your head.

‘I am sorry’ he said and you immediately grinned.

‘Did you enjoy watching me?’ you then asked as you raised an eyebrow and panted, rubbing yourself against him.

‘What do you think?’ Cillian chuckled before asking you what you were listening to on your headphones.

‘An audio book you narrated’ you smirked and he looked dumbfounded, which in turn surprised you, considering what he'd said to start all of this.

‘What can I say Cillian, you’ve got a goodman sexy voice’ you admitted before you pushed him off of you and sat up on your knees, peeling off your shirt to reveal your pierced breasts.

He sat, slack jawed, legs outstretched before doing the same with his t-shirt.

‘So many freckles’ you observed before you went further and hooked your thumbs around the waistband of your Bambi panties.

‘Since you already watched me masturbate, there are no more secrets for me to reveal in so far as my body is concerned’ you smirked as you slowly inched them past your hips, leaving you completely naked.

Cillian’s jaw dropped nonetheless. His eyes were hungry and he reached for his own briefs and removed them as well.

‘Well, unfortunately for you, I had no secrets to start off with. You’ve seen it all already’ Cillian said as he gave you a familiar, lop-sided grin that exposed his teeth. So gorgeous.

‘And I love seeing it all again’ you huffed out as your mouth watered at the sight of his erection. But, instead of letting him climb back on top of you, you firmly pressed your naked body against his chest and then straddled his taut body and kissed him soundly.

His hands roamed your body freely, exploring your legs, your back, your breasts, your ass. He caressed and kneaded, he stroked and fondled, all the while kissing your mouth and neck and ears.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned as you ground your clit into his erection, whimpering in pleasure and whispering his name over and over again, something which sounded rather familiar to him.

After placing soft kisses across your neck, he cupped your breasts and rubbed circles on your rigid pierced nipples with his large thumbs, making you tremble. With his gaze boring into yours, he lifted each breast to his lips and gently nuzzled your nipples before gently tugging on each of your piercings.

‘Don't stop...please don't stop’ you moaned as you rode him harder, begging breathlessly and he wasn’t event inside of your yet. The only friction you got was on your clit against his very hard cock.

Cillian complied with your request and fixed his soft lips around a pink areola, sucking hard as he manipulated the firm nub and your piercing with his tongue. It pushed you over the edge and you came with a low moan, your fingers digging roughly into his scalp.

Keeping one hand around his neck, you slumped back onto his muscular thighs and tried to catch your breath.

‘Did you just cum?’ he asked rather surprised and you nodded, unable to say more.

‘Fuck, that is incredibly hot’ he said as his mouth hung open while he looked at you expectantly, and you knew him well enough that he was wondering if your orgasm meant you were done playing.

‘The tension building up over the past month was just too much, but please don’t dare think that I am done with you yet’ you smirked and Cillian mirrored your wicked smile and kissed you deeply until you placed both hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back.

He resisted at first, eager to keep touching you. Finally he relented and propped himself up with one hand behind his head, watching you as you kissed and licked and sucked your way across his muscular chest and stomach again and again.

Any time you came to his nipples, his eyes pinched tight and his hips involuntarily jerked toward you. You pressed your slight body down onto his rigid cock, making him emit a deep, guttural moan. It was all you could do not to impale your wet pussy on the willing flesh, but you were enjoying the anticipation far too much.

You slid your body down on his, his freckled skin a striking contrast against your much darker tan. While you made your decent, you briefly thought again about just climbing onto him and lowering your wet, ready pussy onto his very hard cock, but you decided that as late as it was, it was still early enough in the night to do everything you wanted. And you wanted to make him come in your mouth just as you had fantasised for weeks.

When you finally reached your destination, Cillian’s cock, was standing at attention in your hands. It was so long and thick that it made your small hands look positively tiny in comparison. You ran them up and down the length of his shaft, taking the time to trace every line and curve carefully.

‘Fuck, Y/N, this feels so fucking good’ Cillian groaned as he watched you with hooded eyes and you started stroking him more rhythmically. His head rolled back, his hips jutted forward, and you couldn't contain yourself any longer.

You inhaled all that you could at once, which admittedly wasn't much considering all that remained. You pulled your head back, sucking hard, and went down for another try, and another, and another, gorging on a little more of his shaft each time.

‘Jesus Christ’ Cillian groaned again loudly as you finally managed to take all of his length and he bottomed out against the back of your throat.

You grinned as you accomplished what you had hoped and began bobbing your head up and down his shaft.

Occasionally, you snuck glances at his face when you could; sometimes he was staring at you fixedly, his mouth pinched to a narrow line, other times his eyes were screwed tight.

‘Y/N, I am close, fuck, you need to stop’ you eventually heard him weakly say as you continued to pleasure him with your lips and tongue.

But, instead of stopping, you looked him straight in the eyes and took his cock deeper down your mouth.

‘Y/N, fuck’ he groaned, trying to delay his release until he realised that this was what you wanted as you continued to suck him eagerly.

Eventually, with another loud groan, his entire body tensed and you could feel his sweet cum spurt into the back of your throat. Rope after rope, you drank every drop and, when he finally came down from his high, you gently licked him clean and he sat up and pulled you into his lap, kissing you deeply.

‘You just kissed me after you came in my mouth’ you observed when your lips drifted apart which is something James, the only man you had ever been with before tonight, would never have done.

‘Does that bother you?’ Cillian asked concerned and you shook your head.

‘No, I think its fucking sexy’ you blurted out before kissing him again and, just as you did, you felt his erection reviving underneath your ass almost immediately.

While sucking on your tongue, his large hands grabbed around your waist and rolled you over on the blanket beside him.

He crawled over you and stuck his tongue in your ear, making you claw at his back until he whispered ‘When I said that I wanted to know what you taste like, I meant that I wanted to eat your pussy.’

This was probably the dirtiest thing you ever heard him say to you and you liked it a lot and wiggled out from underneath him just enough to spread your legs provocatively.

His breath on your legs, coupled with his revelation that he had been fantasising about licking you, made you quiver. He slowly kissed the inside of your thighs, occasionally brushing your soaking mound with his nose or his lips. You relished every second and it wasn’t long until he locked your gaze and pressed his tongue flat against your vulva.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian, fuck’ you moaned out as he was licking and sucking you.

He covered your labia and clitoris in wet kisses before sticking his tongue deep inside you, causing you to scream out louder than ever before.

As he continued to pleasure you, one of your hands was buried in his hair, tearing at it as he made your body go crazy whilst the other clenched against the blanket beneath you.

You remembered what Laura had said and there certainly was some truth to it. He was good, very good and it wasn't long before you'd built into another orgasm, but you didn't feel the need to warn him beforehand.

‘Oh, my fucking god’ you shouted out eventually as his wicked tongue sent you over the edge and your legs began to shake crazily while he pinned you down.

No man had ever made you cum with his tongue alone and the sensitivity on your clit following your orgasm was overwhelming and made you squirm.

Still, he continued to ply his tongue into your sensitive folds until you used both hands to pry his head back by his hair. He grinned from ear to ear, and you knew you were paying for teasing him earlier.

Languidly, he pulled his body over yours, pausing to kiss you here and there while you regained a little composure. His breath was heavy when he found himself at your ear again.

‘I want to be inside you’ he whispered and you nodded fervently.

He raised himself to his knees, his erection again at full mast. You felt a momentary twinge of nervousness. He was bigger than James and this worried you just a little.

‘Do you want me to go and get a condom?’ Cillian asked and you knew that he kept some upstairs in his bedside table which, ironically, Lindsay had bought for him.

‘No, I am on the pill. I want to feel you, all of you’ you said, biting your lips with anticipation.

This was all Cillian needed to hear and, within seconds, he lined himself up you’re your soaking wet entrance.

He knew that you had never been with another man other than James and was gentle and slow as he entered you, increasing the pace of his thrusts only after you'd had a chance to get used to his length and girth and began raising your hips up to meet his.

‘Oh god, you feel so fucking tight Y/N’ Cillian groaned as he thrusted in and out of you.

‘Cillian, fuck me harder, oh god’ you screamed out almost at the same time. He felt so amazing inside of you that you could barely breathe! You probably looked like the proverbial fish on dry land, gasping for air as you drown under wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure.

You were almost grateful when he folded over you and groaned into your neck, the sound of your name from his lips bringing you to one last climax as he enjoyed his.

‘Fuck yes Cillian’ you groaned as you could feel him pulsate inside of you, filling you with his seed as you climaxed in sync.

By this point you had lost count of how many orgasms he'd given you, but you were fairly sure that you could make him come every hour on the hour for the next three or four days and still be in his debt.

You never had sex that good and you struggled to contain yourself after you both were breathless. Cillian held his body close to his as his breath normalized, and you shuddered as he pulled his softening cock from inside you, lamenting its absence and causing some of his cum to leak onto the blanket beneath you.

‘What do you think? Should we get to bed?’ he eventually huffed out and you nodded, but weren’t so sure whether you would be sleeping in the same or separate bedroom.

‘I might need some help getting up’ you giggled, knowing that you wouldn’t be walking straight for days.

Cillian was quick to flash up his phone and scoop you up from the floor in response to your comment and carry you to your bed.

‘Uhm, do you want me to stay with you?’ Cillian asked somewhat nervously and you bit your lip and nodded at him.

Within seconds, he slid into bed with you, turned off the flashlight on his phone before pulling the top sheet over your nude forms before sliding an arm around you to curl you into his warm body.

‘This was incredible, even better than I had ever imagined’ he said and you nuzzled into the soft hair that sparsely covered his chest, still reeling that the most amazing wet dream you'd ever had had happened during your waking hours.

***

The following morning, you were woken by your phone which rang not once, not twice but three times in total until you finally answered it.

‘Hey, what’s up’ you huffed out with a dusty head while Cillian was stirring besides you.

‘I really need to talk Y/N, I am sorry. I know that Cillian is seeing someone by the name of Lindsay and I am really fucking upset about it’ Laura went on to say before telling you once again that she wasn’t over the break up and suspected that he was seeing her and Lindsay at the same time.

‘I can’t really talk about this right now’ you said, your head pounding as Cillian’s arm wrapped around you.

‘Can you call me back when you can please. I know you said that you wanted to stay out of this, but there is more to it’ Laura then said and you were immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

[cellophaine]

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

------

"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock au #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #marvel imagine #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil au #daredevil imagine #daredevil fanfiction #cellophaine 100 followers event #no use of y/n

[rowanaelinn]

Thank you

rowaelin month day 24 - missing scene from canon

warning: nsfw content

“Sit,” Rowan ordered, nodding toward the small table standing in the middle of their cabin. Aelin, surprisingly, did as she was told. She sat and parted her legs enough so her lover could stand between them. He had brought with him a pitcher of cold water, putting it beside her with an old rag in bad condition, the fabric had been white a while ago but it was more yellow than anything else now.

“Are you going to yell?” Aelin asked and he only shrugged, taking her bleeding hand in his hand and bringing it to his lips so he could depose a delicate kiss on her bruised knuckles. She smiled at the small show of affection. Rowan had never been good with words, but he had been good at showing her how he felt.

“Why would I be angry?”

It was Aelin’s turn to shrug. “Aedion looked pissed that I punched the witch.”

“I would have done worse for what her coven did to you last spring.” Rowan’s tight voice resonated in the room. His magic started healing her hand, even if she didn’t need it. He just needed to take care of her. Aelin felt her own magic woke up at that, coming out to play with Rowan’s. She would never get tired of this feeling, this connection between their souls.

“You’re the one who got shot.” She retorted, still able to see his bloodied body on the grass, an arrow coming out of him. Aelin never wanted to experience such pain again in her life. She’d take every blow if it meant Rowan not getting hurt.

“But they targeted you.” Rowan looked back at her and Aelin could see the frozen rage on his face. They had been too close to losing each other that day, even if they didn’t even have each other yet at that time.

“Maybe I wanted to get shot,” she smirked. “But of course, you had to be dramatic and steal all the spotlight from me.”

Rowan barked a laugh. “Sometimes, someone else other than you needs to be the center of attention. We wouldn’t want your head to grow too big.”

Aelin rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back the small smile on her lips. Rowan took more time than necessary to heal her, she knew it, but she didn’t call him out on that. Instead, she chose to enjoy the way his thumb stroked the palm of her hand, the way this simple touch heated her entire body.

She liked peaceful times like these between them, moments when they were together and didn’t either sleep or discuss war plans were rare, so Aelin learned how to enjoy them.

When Rowan was done playing with his magic, he took the rag and wet it before starting to clean her hand. Once again, he took his time, and Aelin was delighted by it. She kept thinking about how good life would be once they won the war and would be back in Terrasen.

“Done,” Rowan murmured before placing another kiss on the back of her hand. She smiled, indeed, her hand was clean and healed as if nothing happened. Rowan came closer to her, wanting to kiss her but Aelin had something else in mind.

Gently, she put her hands on his shoulder and pushed him so she had the space to slide off the table. Rowan looked at her, confusion clear in his eyes, as she walked to the door to lock it. Gods knew she didn’t want anyone other than Rowan to see what she was about to do.

Rowan’s frown deepened when she took her time to walk back to him, intensifying the sway of her hips and drawing attention from her lover just there. When she stood in front of him, she allowed him to kiss her. Just a peck, before she dropped to her knees, never breaking eye contact.

He threw his head back when he understood what she wanted to do, his breathing becoming ragged. Aelin was perfectly content for a moment to just want him as she went for his belt, unbuckling it in record time.

“Fuck, Aelin,” Rowan groaned as she put his pants down, followed by his underwear. He was already hard as if the sheer sight of her on her knees was enough to arouse him. “You don’t have to,” He told her and just for that, she wanted to do it ten times more.

Aelin didn’t answer. No, instead she took him in hand and licked his tip. He let out more curses than Aelin ever heard him speak.

Aelin had never done this, never felt confident enough to do it to Chaol last year, and ever since she had Rowan shared their body on that beach, Rowan had never let her do anything, always taking the lead and being the one on his knees. So, for the last few days, Aelin had planned how to surprise him so she could finally give him this pleasure. Of course, she hadn’t planned on beating the witch just so she could suck her lover off, but it sure as hell was an amazing opportunity. Especially when she had felt the slight change in his scent when she had delivered the blow. She loved his wicked mind.

Slowly, she licked him from base to tip, taking the head on her mouth and using her tongue to play with it. If the noises coming out of Rowan were any indication, she’d say she wasn’t too bad at it.

She used her hand to pump the base of his erection as she took more and more in her mouth. Aelin felt the ghost of a thrust in her mouth and when she looked up, Rowan’s pained eyes were on her.

The overbearing buzzard probably just wanted to keep it slow for her, once again putting her before his own pleasure, but Aelin was having none of that today. This was for him, she wanted him to enjoy himself and think about himself for once.

She slid her hand from his shaft to his balls, cupping them. At this, Rowan’s hand gripped her shoulder. She kept looking at him as she took almost all of him, this tip hitting the back of his throat almost making her choke. “Fuck, you’re so good,” Rowan said and it had her clenching her thighs. Seeing him receiving pleasure, hearing him speak to her, shouldn’t turn her on that much.

Tears were rolling down her face when she pulled her head back, taking him in hand while she tried to get her breathing back to normal. Rowan’s hand clenched on her shoulder when she fisted him harder and while it did nothing to her, she still moaned with him.

“Fuck my mouth,” she looked up at him and he cursed. She was probably a sight to behold right now saliva on her chin and rosy swollen lips, tears coming out of her eyes. Rowan shook his head, but Aelin had none of it. “Come on, Rowan. I’m not some pretty flower that will break.” She told him as she tightened her hold on him, his free hand shot to her other shoulder, trying to keep himself on his feet.

“One condition,” he told her and Aelin urged him to speak by stroking him faster. “Touch yourself.”

It was her turn to shake her head. No, it was all about Rowan. All about pleasing him. All about thanking him for everything he did for her.

“Aelin, I can smell how much you want it, your scent is driving me-” he groaned as Aelin twisted her hand, her other one finding his balls. “-crazy. Do it,” he said and when he saw he hadn’t convinced her, he used his last card. “For me. Do it for me,” he grilled through his teeth, and suddenly, Aelin was undoing her own belt before shoving her hand down her pants.

She didn’t even know males were turned on by this, but Rowan definitely was. Oh, gods, she’d have so much fun with that later. She couldn’t help but smirk at every scenario in which she could tease him that comes to her mind.

As her hand slipped under her panties, finding her soaked heat, Rowan took off her hand from his balls and started stroking himself, eyes fixed on her hand moving under the garments. She moaned, letting her head fall back on his thigh, as her fingers found her clit and started circling it.

Not wasting time, Aelin put her mouth back on Rowan, taking in his tip and some of his length, before stopping her movements on him, looking up at Rowan, waiting for him to do anything.

She moaned around him when she slid a finger in her, and it urged him to thrust. Faster than she could comprehend, Rowan’s hands were in her hair, holding her head still, as he thrust his hips erratically in her.

Aelin had nothing do to but keeping her mouth open as she kept fucking herself with her fingers. She hadn’t touched herself since Rowan first touched her on that beach and she could not help but realize how small her fingers were compared to his.

She gagged every time he hit the back of her throat but she didn’t ask him to stop. On the contrary, she kept moaning around him, her silent way to beg him to keep going. “Such a good mouth,” Rowan groaned and Aelin clenched around her fingers at that. She loved it when he was talkative in bed.

She was already so close, too worked up from seeing Rowan take pleasure and having his way with her. He pulled hard at her head, making her release a loud moan, Rowan followed, taking pleasure in the vibrations around his cock. “Fuck, Fireheart, I’m gonna-” He groaned loudly as she took the initiative to make him as deep as she could.

He had warned her to let her retract if she wanted, but Aelin Ashryver Galathynius had never been one to back down from a challenge. She wanted all of Rowan, wanted his taste deep in her throat.

They worked together, each second bringing them closer to the edge, and when Aelin reached that peak, Rowan followed, spilling himself in her throat.

Her orgasm made it harder to swallow, too focused on what she was feeling. So she wasn’t surprised to see Rowan kneeling in front of her, using the rag from earlier to clean her lips and chin. When he was done, Aelin smiled at him and he returned it.

“You’re amazing, Fireheart,” Rowan said as he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss started sweet and loving, but it soon turned needy. It was crazy to Aelin how they could need each other so soon after getting off, but she prayed to all the gods it would never stop.

When his hands went to take off her shirt, someone knocked on their door. Loudly.

Rowan cursed, letting his head drop on her shoulder as she chuckled, using her small hands to stroke his back.

Apparently, they’d have to wait before he could find out how wet, exactly, it made her to touch him.

-----

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