#DESERVE. THATS WHY IM ALWAYS LOOKING DOWN ON YOU I KNOW IT HURTS IM SURE YOU HAVE A LOT OF QUESTIONS IVE BEEN TRYING TO SEARCH TO FIND US

[thelocal-idot]

Soft Obsessions

Crazy B x Yandere Reader

PT 1

Hey loves glad to be here again writing more stuff for this lovely and small community. I love writing yandere stuff, but because i wasn’t trying to go over the top its alot more toned down. 

if you enjoy the content, im taking requests in my asks page! -

Cw:  Yandere, Slightly suggestive content

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There was always something strange with you, something not many people would notice. Whenever you were in love, you’d always go to the most extreme measures to ensure their love for you. You had never been given such affections before, the taste was almost addicting. Craving the warmth of being within someone’s arms, their touch would make you feel just a little higher. You needed it, more of it, and thats how you were here now. 

RINNIE

Rinnie was an interesting person, he would make it known when something either displeased him or made him laugh. He was loud, obnoxious, super annoying, but that didn’t really stop you from falling in love with him did it? His rowdy, wild nature drew you in, and since then you had been looking for every opportunity to hang out with him. Whenever you’re in a crowd after one of his performances you couldn’t help but look for him every time, i mean he did stick out like a sore thumb. Little would he know that you had a whole shrine dedicated to the older Amagi brother, pictures of him plastered everywhere. I think if he saw it, he’d be rather flattered actually. Maybe a few more pictures wouldn’t hurt, perhaps next time in a more.. exposing way. The prideful king has always needed to be taken down a notch anyways.

HIMERU

Himeru had never been very affectionate person, but that never really bothered you much. What a alluring and mysterious person, thats why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. You wanted to uncover his secrets, and maybe if you did he’d be easier to charm. What you didn’t expect was the subtle reciprocation that he did in fact fancied your presence. You would love to break him apart, using things that no one else knew about the pretty blue haired man. You relished in being able to savor his smell left on his coats that you so graciously borrowed without his knowledge. Maybe, just maybe he’d be willing to stay with you and love you forever?

NIKI

Niki, his way of loving was by cooking meals for them, you might hide it but you thought him as the perfect house husband. Whenever he was hungry you’d always have snacks for him because you knew he’d appreciate it. You always found him endearing and silly, you’d do anything to make sure he was always having fun. When you first saw him, his long hair was so eye catching and healthy you wondered what he’d been eating. How does he have such pretty hair, you’d love to have some of it. He’d probably never find out about it (hopefully), but you hand a collection of his hair that you kept neatly stored. What you’d do to have a chance at having him entirely for yourself and litter his face in kisses. 

KOHAKU

Kohaku was sweet and giving to you, how could you have not fallen in love with him. Even better is all the venom he kept hidden underneath all of his skin, keeping his tongue sharp. You loved that of him, such a cute little face and yet so much bitterness, his poison was a drug you’d willingly consume. Admiring from afar was so lackluster, you’d do anything to get closer. Though you’d been getting closer to him, much to your delight. It had turned out that you two had similar interests, what a coincidence. Theres days he’d be pouting, and curious you’d ask him what was wrong. You’d gladly listen to him complain, falsely smiling to hide the rage behind your soft demeanor. He’d smile back at you, and you could already feel the urge to take him away from the rest of the world. They didn’t deserve a sweetheart like him anyways.

-

Kohaku was the first one i wrote, when my brain was actually working, so if its the best written one my apologies hekekek

#crazy:b #ensemble stars #enstars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #rinnie amagi #rinne amagi x reader #himeru #himeru x reader #niki shiina #niki shiina x reader #kohaku oukawa #kohaku oukawa x reader

[bronwiebear-brad]

I was in the mood so I knew I had to write something inspired on would you

“Good luck, B” you said hugging him, your arms wrapping his figure like you did everytime.

“Thank you” he kissed the top of your head.

When you looked up he leanned down to kiss you. When you pulled apart he noticed how you left your eyes open during the kiss. And that hurt him.

“Do you still love me?” He asked out of nowhere on a saturday night just as he was about to leave the backstage room for a concert.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. You were pretty sure he knew how much you loved him because you were always showing him.

“It is a simply yes or no question, Y/N”

“ Yeah I know, but I don’t uderstand why are you asking me that”

“Your answer explains everything” he looked down sarcastically smiling.

“That question came out of nowhere, Brad. Why are you doing this right now?”

“Because i need to know” he looked at you. His eyes were dark. He had a serious expression.

“Wh-“ you wanted to know more about where this conversarion led but someone interrupted.

“Guys, 10 seconds to come up on stage”

“We’ll talk later. Or not. I don’t know anymore.”he turned around and left you.

This was probably the worst thing he could do to you. Leaving you at least 4 hours overthinking about you and your relation. He know how anxious you would get but at this point he couldnt care less.

Everyone went up on the stage and you stood there in the dressing room with the famillies. James stood behind resting, because his voice condition, he noticed the interaction between you and his bandmate. You looked at him and he gave you a pitty look, he was trying so hard to not say anything.

Instead you gave him a reasuring smile and he gentle caressed your back.

…

Every song he sang that night made him think of you and every time he closed his eyes your eyes were looking straight into his. It was consuming him.

“Thank you Birminghan, that was a crazy show” you heard him say and the venue went crazy.

He looked at them and saw happiness. He remembered when he felt that way.

It was a long time.

He started to notice when you stopped waiting for him on the driveway when he came from work. You used to jump on his arms and hug him tight.

But not anymore.

There were a few times when you refused to go with him to red carpet events, dinner parties amd eventually casual dates.

You stopped waiting for him at the airport arrivals gate when he was away touring.

But when you stopped kissing him goodnight before bed thats when he noticed it.

He had lost you.

The whole ride from the venue to the hotel was silent. The tension between you and him could be cut with a knife. You were pretty sure the uber driver was looking at you through the mirror and wondering why you two didn’t talk.

“When did you stop loving me?” He asked closing the bedroom door.

“Brad we don’t have to do this right now, you need to rest” you said grabbing your things all over the room.

“See? You don’t even deny it!” He sat on the bed defeated.

“I do love you” you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.

“Fuck, I know that I’m never going to stop loving you.” You said.

For a split second his eyes filled with hope.

“So don’t “ he desperately said.

“But I can’t love you the same” you continue and his heart dropped. You sat beside him on the bed. Your knees touching.

“Brad, im tired to be always waiting. I cant live my life feeling that im always waiting for something. I can count on my fingers the amount of times I woke up in the morning and you were there smiling at me and ready to holding me tight…”

“I try to be present…”

“I know babe, it’s not your fault. You can’t compromise your job. Its what you do and you’re pretty fucking good at it.” You tried to make him smile and bumped his shoulder playfully. He lose a little but not enought.

“But I deserve to be happy too. Not spend my life waiting for you. Counting the days I’ll get to see you.”

“We’re going to find a way. I know we will. Just please don’t leave me” he said looking at you and grabbing your hands gently. His eyes were looking straight into yours.

“We tried already, darling” you said. Your hand caressed his face and he closed his eyes feling your touch.

“I can’t be that jealous with myself. And I know you’ll understand” you continued.

“i know that you’ll let go because you really love me” your hand traveled down and touched his chest right were his heart was.

“I can’t let you go, i love you” he said. You noticed his eyes filling with water. And you were breaking too.

“My darling i am nothing without you”

“Brad, you’re incredible without me. You just need to wait to see.”

He was listening you quietly. Few Tears were silently falling of his eyes and you cleaned them with your hands.

“You’ll became this better version of yourself. You’ll see how strong you are.” At this point you were sobbing too.

“And you’ll find someone like you.” He nodded no.

“She will be amazing and she’ll love you a lot, because its impossible not to”

“You’ll find someone like you”

#brad simpson #bradley simpson #the vamps #bradley will simpson #thevampsbrad #bradsimpson #bradleysimpson #the vamps brad #thevamps #thevampsband

[bleedingheartsandwiltedroses]

Hey there, I've been keeping up to date with this situation as an offline friend of Sail (I can't leave the friendship as of now for personal reasons) I get notifications from your account about updates, I just want to clarify some things said on this account, especially after what was sent earlier. I'll use the name Marsh for these messages since I don't want him knowing it was me who sent this lol (I'm a very old friend of his)

Firstly, Sail is not a system. Sail is a singlet, and he uses he/him pronouns and the name Sail offline. He has admitted to me and other friends that he had faked DID.

Sail does not use social media that I know of, and has been actively avoiding this situation, and has done several shakedowns on friends (online and offline) whenever someone interacts with you. He is very paranoid about this situation, and has made it very clear to any and all of his friends that if they interact with you that he will hurt them (actual threats)

The pixelsnpancakes account was his account. He no longer uses the name Alice or she/her pronouns. He was using that name as a placeholder since he didn't know the name he wanted to go by when he "came clean" (his words) You are looking for a trans, straight guy named Sail. he/him pronouns.

He did not fake being intersex. He was actually denied testosterone because of hormone imbalances that come from being intersex and was very upset about it. I have also seen him take medication to balance his hormones and I've seen him get bullied in the past over it.

He is very manipulative, and openly admits to the fact he is capable of manipulating people

An old username I have seen him used was brighteyed.boy on Instagram. I'm not sure if it's still up, but it's worth a check I think.

He did re-create the sail emotes account, but then deleted it because he was getting "hate" on it. I'm not sure what the "hate" was but I'm sure it was deserved.

I wasn't going to send this ask but I seriously think the truth is really important in a situation like this, and it's important you know what actually is happening and what's not

Also excuse any typos and stuff, it's late here and I just spent 30 minutes contemplating sending this since it' a bit more dangerous since I know him offline.

Thanks for this, I hope you have a good day and I'm sorry for that fucked up ask you got.

Thank you so much for this. I hope its okay for me to post it and if not I can immediately take it down! This means a lot and I also agree that the truth should be known abt everything. Im so sorry he’s doing that and I hope everyone is safe genuinely. The whole purpose of making the doc was to make sure people can stay safe and Im genuinely sorry if I caused any danger to anyone with posting it. The only reason I ever doubted his intersexism was just due to how he “found out” but based on what you said I do believe you and that he is. I will admit though I think his discovery of it was slightly fabricated (when it comes to how he found out) to manipulate us further since it was by (nsfw/predatory stuff)

masturbating on the phone with us.

But I do 100% believe you. Thats just more explanation into my thoughts and why I had originally questioned it.

Again genuinely thank you for this it helps and means so much. Please stay safe and if you ever need anything and its safe for you to reach out my messages are always open to you or anyone else reading this. And I’m so sorry youre dealing with all this.

[remain-uknowable]

I want to rip myself apart. I hate myself so fucking much i don't care about believing otherwise right now i always tone it down cause i don't want people getting tired of me but the truth is i fucking despise myself i hate myself more than anyone and im afraid of believing anything else. Which makes me hate myself even more cause im always afraid of things im never tough. AND I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF LIVING WITH MYSELF AND IM TIRED OF BEING IN MY HEAD ALL THE TIME THE ONLY TIME IM REMOTELY OKAY WITH MYSELF IS IF I DON'T THINK ABOUT MYSELF. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? MABYE FOR A LITTLE WHILE I WANTED TO ACTUALLY LIKE MYSELF! I WANTED TO BELIEVE ALL THE NICE THING I WAS BEING TOLD I WANTED TO BELIEVE THAT I WAS A GOOD PERSON. BUT I ALWAYS END UP RIGHT BACK HERE. CAUSE ILL ALWAYS KNOW RIGHT WHERE I BELONG AND I GOT EVIDENCE UPON EVIDENCE TO PROVE IT. AND MABYE I WANTED TO BE LOVED EVEN IF I KNOW DAMN WELL I DON'T DESERVE IT AND MABYE I DID WANT TO BE CLOSER TO PEOPLE AND MABYE I WANTED TO BELIVE IM A FUTURE FOR MYSELF EVEN IF I CAN'T SEE IT. AND MABYE im just a bit tired of everything. Mabye I just wanted to live for once. And mabye I was just really hoping that if I stuck it out a little longer ill find out why I should keep going. But look at me how much longer do I have to stick things out? IM SUPPOSED TO BE GETTING OVER SHIT. I AM SO LUCKY TO HAVE WHAT I HAVE WHY CAN'T I BE HAPPY? WHY DOES EVERY HAPPY EMOTION ALWAYS COME WITH AT LEAST A TAD BIT OF BAD WHY CAN'T I FEEL OKAY??? AREN'T I SO SELFISH??? I don't deserve the things I have. I can't be sure when or where all these things started. I can't be sure when I knew I was worthless. But I know. I just know. I can only be worth something if I can make other people happy and the moment i can't do that for anyone I have failed and need to go away. Permanently.

Im a really selfish person yknow that? Im stuck in my head all the time and so self centered. I can't put myself in peoples shoes very easily. It doesn't come naturally to me. Although for people thats not a bad trait some people are just like that. But at what point does that hurt people? If i can't understand them and i hurt them will they see through me and leave?

[zomberellaarts]

•Spell of Exile•

He walked through the corridor,

calling her name with no response.

He felt like he was playing a one sided game

of Marco Polo.

-Shiloh-

~Silence~

-Shiloh-

~Silence~

He came to a most magnificent garden,

That flourished with the most beautiful flowers he had ever

Seen.

Across the way he saw a glorious marble fountain,

And there he saw her sitting on the ledge of the fountain.

He walked up to her,

He could feel a sad aura around her,

It concerned him.

He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder

She became startled then looked upon him.

-Will why are you here?

-I've been looking for you?

-Why?

-I've been so worried, you've not been yourself lately....

He reaches for her,

She pulls away.

-What's the matter with you?!?

-I'm FINE!

He knew she wasn't fine,

He knew something was hurting her

Deep inside her soul,

He could see her heart breaking.

-You're not fine Shiloh,

I can see your soul hurting,

You're heart is breaking right in front of

Me as we speak!

She weeped loudly her head fell,

He could see the river of tears streaming

From her face,

She whispers.....

-You don't care

He looked at her in disbelief,

He couldn't believe what he just heard.

How could she feel he didn't care,

Of course he cared,

Doesn't he?

-How can you say I don't care? That's ridiculous!

He grew angry the more that phrase repeated in his head.

She looked up at him,

Her eyes bloodshot and red,

Sadness was still there.

But he could now see pure hatred and anger flash through her eyes.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He felt the wind kick up in the flow of her anger.

He stood up,

The wind whipped her hair around in a maddening but angelic way,

Her eyes were piercing like they were daggers ripping through

His soul.

-You have no idea what its like to think how I do, feel like I do,

You have no fucking idea!

She began to cry

-You cant imagine the torture I go through.

-Oh really like what?

-How about all the times I cared for you, thought of you before myself, what about all

The past bullshit pain you've put me through, but I still stupidly came back each damn

Time cause I still care about your selfish ass!

He scoffs,

How could she think he didn't care and surely he never treated her so cruelly like

Shes yelling about.

-You're so full of it Shiloh, I think you need to calm down and rethink things,

Cause you're over reacting quite a bit there hun.

-So if I'm over reacting then the way I feel about you mist be a over reaction too

Her voice became soft and he could see calm surround her.

He felt his heart grow heavy he wanted to hold her but he he knew

That would be unwanted by her.

The sky opened up and the rain came down in a light poetic scene.

-You cant imagine how someone can love you so much then just walk away like it

Was nothing. Then to have them toy with your emotion making you feel your important when

Really there was always someone else....there always is.

She paused a tears stream down her face as she continues.

-Im not saying I'm innocent in this I've had my faults but you had no right to

Open my heart like you did.

He grew enraged and interrupted her.

-Hold on that's far from true you opened up things I never thought I could feel let

Alone felt I deserved to feel as for the "other women" there really isn't one nore is there really one

Now. Im sorry I haven't been there Im sorry things have been less then normal but I'm scared too I'm

Trying to figure things out give me some kind of chance.....i swear Shiloh Ive never once forgotten about you.

The tone ended very sadly he felt anger but yet such sadness.

-I cared about you, put myself for you but when I needed you, you just suddenly never had the damn

Time......

-Now wait a minute that's.....thats not true, I just.....i don't know what to do.....

She began to cry that sad river of tears again,

His heart broke this time,

His face fell,

He knew he was responsible partly for her pain if anything a good majority.

-Ive loved you for so long,

Ive thought maybe you still loved me too, but then you changed, you started ignoring me,

Acting ashamed and embarrassed of me, all around you just seem like Im not wanted or want to be around. What did I ever do to hurt you? I know I'm emotional and can be irrational at times but for fuck sake I'm trying damn it!

He saw her tears, he saw the pain and the anguish on her face,

When he normally felt indifference and confusion, he felt guilt and despair,

He never realized the pain he caused her,

He took a step towards her.

-I'm......I'm so sorry. I.....i had no idea, I never realized all these feelings. I never meant for you to feel like this.i never meant for you to feel neglected, dirty, unloved, or even not cared about.

She looked up and saw for the first time in a long time he was crying, he fell to his knees and sobbed, he felt so guilty but at the same time angry with her for keeping it all inside for so long, she had no right no right at all.

-of course I care about you, how could you feel I don't? Yes of course your crazier then the mad fucking hatter somedays but for fuck sake, how could you ever feel I don't want you around?

She walked ip to him and lifted his head her eyes were sad but strong

-Just say goodbye and be on your way, nothing you say I trust as truth, the only thing for the both of us is exile from our lives, it's the best thing for the both of us.

He looked at her in disbelief he couldn't believe what he was hearing but he knew she was right. He stood up grabbed her and held her tight.

-Whatever you need I will do, I just want you happy that's all I've ever wanted.

-As for you too......

She pushed him away giving him one last look into his beautiful blueish green eyes.

-Till we met again-

She blew him a kiss.

-Till we met again-

He smiled at her, wishing it wouldn't be this way.

-Till the stars align and the moon dies out forget me, when the sun cant shine and the sea dries out forget me, till the days ends forget me, please forget me.

Suddenly memories flashed before his eyes, tears formed as each memory flashed, then just as quick they were gone.

-Who are you?

-No one important, im no one just a ghost of the past.

She disappeared leaving him standing there confused and unsure of what happened, but he couldn't shake the feeling he knew her. But knew he would see her again. When....he didn't know.

{Written: 1-20-20}

[Updated: 2-23-20] 

[writinginthenight]

do it again

little ones this time.

dont mess this up

your being fucking stupid.

thank god for the fact your over think instead of act on your thoughts.

this is why you don't let yourself be angry.

bc you will do bad things.

if there is one thing you shouldn't do its what your thinking about doing.

dont throw three years of love and joy down the drain bc you are angry over nothing.

breathe.

write poetry.

try not to do bad things.

dont scream. dont cry. dont hurt yourself.

above all else dont hurt the others.

dont

dont.

i wont let you.

i wont let me.

i will not let you hurt them.

you are angry and sad and emotional and i will not let any harm come to them.

what is this even.

your bain chemicals are being silly again.

shut the fuck up.

suck it up your being needy and posseive and crazy what are you doing.

your dumabass got attached to people and its my job to make sure you dont do any stupid shit so your gonna sit here and write.

write this until your back down to earth.

write until your reasonable.

why are you mad.

because you arnt the center of attention?

your being selfish.

there is nothing selfish in wanting to be cared about.

yes there is.

not for others.

but for you.

let me be selfish.

i am. im letting keep them.

like id really do it anyways

well you seem like you wold bc you withdrew so godanmm much. i know just how much its killing you that you did that. i know how much you miss them.

i still have some of them.

your lucky you do.

i know i am. i dont even deseve them anyways. they do so much for me and all i do is put more and more shit on them. thell leve one day too you know this.

they care about you why dont you just accept that.

i do accpt that thats how they feel * right now * thell get tierd of me like every one else i care about deeply. people say they care and you take advantge of that. you relay on them and they get sick of that. you know if you wernt so pathetic youd know this. you shounth have let yoursefl get this far.

your jsut as patheic as i am with your woe is me bull shit! you have to relay on peopl you love somtimes and you know we would immeadyly do the same for them.

i know but why is it always more. you would give your whole world to any one of them. for nothing and what do you get back? nothing.

thats not true tho. there your friends the give you their care and their kindness. look at your goddanm wall its full of their love.

to befair its mostly echo.

so??? echo loves you. youve never doubed that before.

shoud ahve seen me fifteen minutes ago.

i did.

and?

you were bing irrational.

how do you know that.

because i have eyes.

they were too busy crying.

it dosntn matter youbeing crazy. they love you.

do they.

of course.

why dont they do somthing.

alex and lanna have. why cant you accept that.

they were never the issue.

wasnt this a group issue. ?

it is and the others dont care.

you know thats not true.

its not like *ANY* have reached out.

thats your fault and you know it. youre the one who left with cheery world and the tone of i jsut need a little break. no one knows that somthing is wrong.

they should have put it together now. id be worried.

bro its been like six days. you said youd be a couplue days. id understd if its been months and months but six days.

so i should just wait longer?

no you shoud go back.

what was the point of any of this then.

it was to help* YOU * get better

yeahhhh cuz that worked out reallllllllll welll

it wasnt a good decision.

you shoud have deleted instagram too then maybe you could have reallly worried them.

we shoundnt be trying to worry them thats toxic behavior.

whos plan was this again.

it was deffinaly yours.

hey you apperoved it.

and i regeert that.

well it not like they reched out anyways so seems like i win.

its not a game??

well what is it then.

it dosnt matter waht is is they are people. they are your friends. they havent done anyting wrong. your the one in the wrong and making bad decicions that cause you pain.

well good bc i deserve to hurt.

no you dont.

well i want to.

well that dosntn mena you can hurt them in the process.

why. why cant i hurt them. they did this. theyre the ones that dont care. you gave me to them and they hurt me. why cant i hurt them back. why cant it tell them all to fuck off.

they did not do this YOU did this dumbass. you love them and so do i you love them with every beat. you cant hurt them because you care about them. not even you dont hurt people bc that is a vile evil thing to do and you know that. they are kind and loving and caring. and they care about you

why dosnt it feel like it then.

well its not like youve been particulary open woth your needs.

i was with jax? why dont they care anymore.

you know they do. you jsut cant be the center of therir atenttion right now. you have to accept that.

i dont want to accept that they made me feel cared for i miss them.

i know we both do but it cant be like that right now maybe it will go back to how it was in a littel while. ittle be fine.

doubt it but whatever. you know the cycle, your the one that reconsided it anyway. its the same thing janelle did and i over whemeed them with what i was. i did the same thing to them and you know it. im doing the same thing to alex rigth now. you know it wont be any different pretty soon. theywill get tierd of you too just wait.

i dont want to belive that it will be the same janelle was their own thing they had their own shit going on.

so what they TOLD YOU THAT how can you deny it. we were too much for them jsut like your were too much for jax and how you will be too much for alex. its a pattern. a loop. a cycle your stuck in destaned to repeat.

hey things will be different. peopel are comlpiciated and relationsips are messy you know that. you know all of this and insit on fighing me on it.

yeah i do.

you and i care. that is what makes us who we are. that is all we have.

i dont care anymore.

yes you do. you do. that is not negotiable so shut the fuck up and act like you do.

i care.

i care more than life.

i think im calmer now.

#writing in the night

[asrai-azurrcat]

tumblr lets you vent without anyone seeing so ig ill try?? but i dont rly have anything to vent just writing down.. things umm tw sh?? depression?? but not mine.

why is mental health in kids so bad- like as someone whos thirteen and has never had any issues other than the common insecurities, why are so many people my age suicidal for years?? like. i know a lot get bullied and then there's family problems, but then some people just have happy lives until the internet; and then place expectations on themselves and sh and then they start to have thoughts about dying- and they're only, what, ten? eleven? twelve? like, they're practically still children. not even teen. and as terrible as it sounds, i just cant understand, especially how theres a lot of other kids who think being depressed makes you cool and edgy and gets you attention so they start to pretend to be unhappy and then draw attention away from people who need it, and at this age you really can't tell those kind of people from the genuinely hurt ones. i made this mistake with my year 6 bsf, ill call her blossom. but like. she's basically perfect in every way: beautiful and one of the only people who don't pretend to be kind, they really are just. actually. so kind at heart. and especially now that she's moved away and then got her phone taken away, took a massive break from tiktok and her stupid fucking boyfriend and studied and now, shes even better. doing better. in year 6 especially id always find sh scars on her arm and she'd never stop, and she talked abt being depressed before but i never even believed her. i was such an asshole friend abt that. like trying to will her to 'stop pretending to be fucked up'- how can she even consider me a close friend to her now, still? i have a vivid memory of one of my friends puppy, looking at blossom closing the school scissors around her fingers and puppy saying, 'oh my god blossom, stop acting depressed', and then blossom just smiled and stopped and i as a really horrible friend internally agreed with puppy. like. im supposed to be there for her. im just so self-centred and pigheaded, and i was prancing abt the world with rose-tinted glasses, thinking. like. there's no way anyone my age can be depressed, thats bullshit! anyone doing it is doing it for attention. and i hate myself for failing blossom like that. and then when i found out her fresh scars and knew she was being real abt this, and i just tried to press her for answers, she wouldn't tell other than a vague answer that her parents always argued. and then id only find out a year later in high school after she moved away, from a fucking spotify playlist, that she didn't get along w her mom. meeting up w blossom again in this new year, and seeing her talk about a new boyfriend who isnt obese and chronically online like her ex, and studying and omitting swear words and reading classic books instead of manga. idk what i was feeling, but i just feel a bunch of regret that i didn't even help her at all when i was friends with her, closest with her, just focusing on myself and my social life and feeling sorry for myself. god i hate myself for not caring more about her.

and now in high school i meet a bunch of new people with puppy and eventually join a friend group i can stabilise on, have fun, make new friends, find shil. and shil is a mirror of blossom, like throughout the entire y7 i was just constantly thinking: oh wow, they both care a lot abt other people. they're both into genshin. they both need a therapist. they both have parents that are on the verge of divorcing. they both aren't straight (actually im not sure abt blossom's sexuality after coming out of her y6, is she still pan?) and i don't deserve either of them. shil is just. so, so friendly and nice, staying friends with me despite my terrible personality, but she has her own friends that she prefers more- two groups of them- and i dont have anyone now that cappu has left, so i always feel like im the one clinging onto her. and shil is also dealing with her stuff, like the shit that happened in her home country and then her parents aren't getting along, she's been bullied and manipulated as a child. i mean, at least she's confiding in me this time unlike blossom, so at least i know what she's going through. and she doesn't have sh scars on her arms but who knows?!! who fucking knows because arms arent the only place you can cut yourself and shil could just be hiding them. and the difference here is that blossom liked me as much as i liked her to the point we could say ily to each other (platonically, near the end of the year very few times but still it was there) and shil is.. more distant, because as much as she's opened up more to me than blossom has it's not even the tip of the mountain of things she's carrying around. and going to a top girl's school filled with smart people and asians, we're surrounded by people under pressure and as much as the teachers stress that the school counsellors are there barely anyone really goes there. but shil is, im glad she applied. she needs it. i don't want to be an asshole to her like a did to blossom. and i thought just occurred to me that, if i lose her, ill be alone in the school, so basically my thinking is just centred around me. self-pity. feeling sorry for myself. if i don't stop being this self-centred, it probably will happen.

and then again, im always judging everyone, which shouldn't be a problem until i go acting on my judgements, and then i make myself fall closer to the social rock bottom because those judgements are mistaken, and i just like to judge people by their outward appearance and personality. like what happened with blossom. i didn't even know bats was this depressed and sh'ed until i found her vent. i just assumed she liked s3x jokes, and they never bothered her. and J too. im confused about J, but J really is suicidal too, because i remember her sending a massive vent to cappu and cappu telling me abt it. and i sort of gave her a blind eye during the period last year when her social life was evidently down and mine was blooming, being an absolute fucking idiot stupid selfish asshole not talking to her enough until the end of the year when we went to the mall with patty everyday like a ritual, and she befriended lin, hitch and tee, and vali, and hy, but she still has no energy, and she looks really tired everyday and looks like she's not taking care of herself.

why are children getting depressed? why are twelve year olds and eleven year olds getting depressed? why are they unhappy with their lives, why are they getting anxiety and cutting themselves, why is the internet doing this to them? what's going to happen to our children's generation, will fucking toddlers commit suicide- i want to understand these people. i want to help them, i want to avoid being a bystander to their unhapiness when i could help and i want to never make the same mistake i did with blossom. i want to stay friends with shil. i want to make new friends, join a new friend group, other than the inner circle with puppy that talk about things i don't even know like taylor swift or boys they meet on snapchat. i want to stop being self-centred and selfish, because these days whenever i try to think about other people like this it always circles back to me

i hope no ones reading this lmao

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?

Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.

Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.

“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.

You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”

Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.

There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.

“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”

“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.

“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.

“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”

“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.

“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.

“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.

“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”

“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”

“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.

“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.

Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.

“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.

“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.

“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!

“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”

“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.

“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.

“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.

“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.

“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.

“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.

“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”

“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.

“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.

“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.

“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”

“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.

“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”

They stay silent and you know you were right.

“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.

“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.

Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.

The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.

“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.

“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.

“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.

“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”

“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.

Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.

“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.

You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.

You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.

Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.

“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”

Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.

It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.

Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.

“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.

You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.

“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.

“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.

“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.

“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”

“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”

“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.

“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”

“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.

“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.

“See?” she smiles warmly.

“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”

“Harry Styles.”

You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.

“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”

Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.

“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”

“You and Harry?”

“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.

“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”

“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”

“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.

Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.

Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.

Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.

“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”

“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.

“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”

One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.

Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.

Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.

Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.

“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.

“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.

“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.

“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”

“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.

The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”

You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.

���She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.

“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.

“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.

“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”

“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.

“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.

“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.

“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”

“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.

“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”

“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”

“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”

You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”

“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”

“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.

“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”

“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.

“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”

“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.

“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”

“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.

“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.

“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”

“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”

You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.

The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.

“I would… love to work on a song with you.”

When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.

You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.

You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.

The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.

“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?

However, Harry can see right through you.

“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.

“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”

“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”

“What?”

“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”

“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.

“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”

It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.

“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“You miss being with the band?”

“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”

“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.

“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”

You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.

“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”

“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.

“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”

Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.

“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.

“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.

“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”

“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.

“It’s… a long story.”

“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”

Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.

“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”

Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.

“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.

“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.

“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.

Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.

“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.

“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”

“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.

“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”

“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”

“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”

“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”

“Are you gonna smoke?”

“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”

Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.

You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.

“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”

“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”

“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”

“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.

“Did he ever stop?”

“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”

You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.

“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.

“What?”

His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.

You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.

“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.

“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.

“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.

“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.

“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”

“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.

With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.

When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.

“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.

“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.

Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.

“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.

“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.

“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”

“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.

You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.

“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”

“Which one?”

“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”

You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.

“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”

“What was the name of the song?”

“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”

The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.

“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”

“No,” you shake your head.

“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”

“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.

“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”

“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”

“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.

“You could say that,” you nod into the water.

“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.

“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.

“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.

“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”

“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.

“Damn right,” he smirks.

And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.

The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.

“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.

“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.

“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”

“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.

The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.

You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.

You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.

“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.

“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.

“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.

Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.

“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.

“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”

You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.

When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.

You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.

The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.

In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.

You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.

Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.

Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.

“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“

“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.

“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.

“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.

“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.

“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.

“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.

“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.

“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.

You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.

As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.

“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.

“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”

“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”

He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.

“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”

“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”

“What did he do this time?”

“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.

“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”

“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”

Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.

“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.

“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”

“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”

“Shoot it.”

“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”

“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.

“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”

“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.

“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.

“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”

 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.

“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.

“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.

“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.

“You’re a fan?”

“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.

“You need to perform it for me.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”

“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”

“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.

You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.

Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx

Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.

“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”

“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”

From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.

“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”

Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.

“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”

He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.

“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”

The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.

“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”

“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.

“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.

When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.

“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”

He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.

You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.

Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.

“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.

“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.

“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.

“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.

His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.

Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.

Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.

“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reading #harry styles x y/n

[sirenascales]

Hiya! I should definitely start this by saying that I love, LOVE your works ahh. <33 I’m so glad you opened the anon bc I’m shy af when it comes to requesting🥺

I don’t know if you write for him but if you do, I’d like to request a fully NSFW dom!Kunikida x fem!Reader fic with the prompts “You want me to give you your notebook back? You’ll have to make me.” coming from the reader and “You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll.” from Kunikida, I thought it could be fun 😈👀 dominant Kunikida who angry-fucks makes me go weak at the knees

You can include any kinks you want, I’m OK with anything, I’m even more OK with choking and degrading kinks so yeah😇

Thank you so much if you ever decide to write it, if you’re uncomfortable feel free to ignore <3

note: so... this turned out... a bit different? lmfao im sorry, i hope this is still okay. I really just couldn't make him super aggressive or like super kinky? I really don't see him being like that... definitely a bit soft dom-y but thats about it 😩 still, i liked how this turned out and i hope you do too!

warnings: nsfw, smut, smallest bit of angst,

-> Taking Kunikida's notebook hostage. 18+

You could tell by the twitch in Kunikida's eye that he was livid. Beyond pissed off. He was already four minutes behind for his commute to work, yet he couldn't leave. Why? You were basically holding his precious notebook hostage, holding it tightly to your chest as you stared at him defiantly.

Kunikida took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to calm himself. "Please, give me my notebook."

"No."

His teeth clenched. "Give me my notebook."

"You want me to give you your notebook back? You’ll have to make me," were the words you spoke next, your lips curling up when Kunikida's face goes completely blank, his green eyes just boring into you.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," his tone is even, though still with the bit of edge that had a chill going up your spine. "Please, give me the notebook. I am already late for work."

That struck a very deep nerve inside of you, your chest blooming with anger as you snarled at him. "Work, work, work! It's all about your fucking job! Well, you're not getting your notebook back, so suck it!"

As you turned on your heel and stormed away from Kunikida, he watched you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly opened as he is hit with a suddenly realization. He saw the hurt which flashed in your eyes before you walked away, and that made him surge forward to follow you, right into your bedroom.

He knew exactly what you were doing by acting like a brat and talking back to him. You were purposely trying to instigate a reaction from him, to make him act, and he was more than inclined to do so.

"What are you still doing here?" you asked, a bite to your voice as you glared at him. Kunikida closed the bedroom door and you watched as he slipped his glasses off his face, setting them down carefully on their rightful place on the nightstand. "Don't you have a job to do? I'm sure Dazai is waiting."

Kunikida is silent as you continued to huff and puff, keeping his eye on his notebook still held against your chest. He slipped off his vest, hanging it on its hanger and putting it away. He he started to looses up the red ribbon around his collar and you just furrowed your eyebrows at him, taking a few steps back as he finally approached you.

"You- What are you-" His large hand is then suddenly clamping over your mouth, successfully shutting you up as he leaned down to stare straight into your wide eyes.

"You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll."

Another chill goes down your spine, your grip on the notebook finally loosening up and it begins to fall. Kunikida skillfully catches it, quickly holding it up high as you suddenly leap forward in an attempt to grab it.

"No! Give it back!" you yelled almost desperately, and the look that Kunikida fixes you with makes you freeze in place.

"You are in no position to make orders here, doll," he says to you, setting down his notebook on the dresser before turning back to you. "You wanted my attention, right? Now you got it. Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

You couldn't contain your glee, a huge megawatt smile growing on your face as you did as told. You couldn't ever defy him, not when he was like this. It made your heart race, skin tingling with anticipation.

It felt so good to finally feel Kunikida's warm skin on yours, to feel his strong hands hold you, claim you, as his. He wasn't rough with you, no, but as always, you were pliant under him. Always so reactive to his touch, his fingers expertly pinching your nipples, making you moan deeply against his lips as he kisses you deeply.

You missed him so much.

You clung onto him tightly, taking his kisses in earnest, and soon his cock as he finally, finally pushes himself inside of you, moaning deeply together with you.

"Shit," he curses while you whine, your head tilted back against the pillow as he slowly started thrusting in and out of you. He took your hands from his shoulders, his fingers lacing with yours as he held them down against the bed. As he continued to slap his hips against yours, fucking you hard and deep like you deserve, the sun shining from the window reflected off the rings you each had on your respective ring fingers.

"D-Doppo..." you moaned his name deeply, whimpering which each thrust he made into your heat, the pleasure he never fails to bring you making your mind go hazy. All you could feel was him, after what seemed to be so long.

You've been so lonely, your husband so caught up with work. He would come home late, and too tired to do much with you. You will always love him for how dedicated he is but... you were a priority too. You had to do something to finally have his attention back on you. What better way was there than to take his notebook? It obviously worked.

He was holding you so close to him, making love to you, his wife. It's what you deserved, and he knew that, and he knew that he has been neglecting you, taking your love for granted. It was shameful of him, really, but he planned to make it up to you.

But first...

"Come on," he grunted, sitting upright before he pulled you up, making you straddle his lap. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, his hands finding purchase on your hips as you started to ride him. You matched your thrusts with his, tossing your head back when he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. "Come on, need you to cum..."

"I love you," you cried out, looking at him with blown out, teary eyes, your lips swollen and plump. Kunikida couldn't resist kissing you again.

It didn't take much longer for your orgasm to finally wash over your body, your mouth wide open in a silent scream as your body tensed up, toes curling and your mind going blank for a second. Kunikida continued to fuck you through your orgasm, soon coming to his own release. He didn't think twice before cumming deep inside of you, his face pressed against your chest as he cursed and grunted repeatedly.

You fell back on the bed after Kunikida pulled out of you, heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Kunikida fell on his back beside you, equally tuckered out, his face sheening with sweat.

"Wow..." you whispered before covering your mouth, giggling softly.

Kunikida just sighed beside you, turning his head to look at you fondly, and apologetically. "I've been a terrible husband."

Your mouth fell open. You didn't want him to think that! "Wait... no-"

"I've been neglecting you. For that, I am terribly sorry." Kunikida just continued on and you just shook your head quickly, moving your hands to cover his mouth.

"You are not a terrible husband," you told him firmly before pulling your hands. You both frowned. "I just... I missed you a lot. I know you are dedicated to your work and I love you so much for that but... I don't know, it just made me feel like I wasn't... a priority..."

Kunikida's entire body stiffened, his mouth falling open. "H-how does that not make me a terrible husband?"

"Because!" you exclaimed, waving your hands a bit wildly. "You aren't! Every day I wake up so proud to be your wife! I just... had a moment of insecurity..." You chewed on your bottom lip, knowing that you probably weren't making sense. But it was how you truly felt, and you wanted to be honest with him.

He seemed to understand it, Kunikida nodding his head before he sat up, looking around the room. "I need my phone..."

You blinked. "For what?"

"I'm taking time off," Kunikida answered and your jaw dropped. "My wife needs her husband now," he continues, glancing at you with a small smile. "Plus, we need to have a conversation about this, so something like this won't happen again."

You smiled back at him. "So your notebook won't be held hostage?" you teased, giggling when his eyebrow twitched.

"Yes. Exactly."

You giggled again, leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Requests are closed!

#bsd x reader #kunikida x reader #bsd smut #kunikida smut #yeaaaah

[katsukikiss]

YOU’RE MINE, NOT HIS

CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP// BAKUGO X F!READER

Warning: NSFW 18+, cheating (not really), fingering, unprotected sex

You and Izuku have gotten very close recently while studying together, and a certain someone isnt very happy about it.

AN: Poor Izuku 🥺 I felt so bad writing this, but so good at the same time lol I must write something soon to pay him back//also send me requests for oneshots! im down to try anything you guys might want!

WC: 2k

Masterlist

You and Izuku had a ‘study date’ last night at his house. You were hardly struggling in organic chem, just needed an excuse to come over at this point. You two had been meeting for tutoring sessions for the last two months or so. Your grades had thoroughly improved since then, so most people believed thats all you two were doing; studying. And you were, of course, but as of recently it was a lot more than that. It started with innocent glances at your chest while you took notes, brushing his fingers along your leg when you couldn’t figure out the answer to a question, and you weren’t oblivious. You began to reciprocate the feeling, wearing shorter skirts to bend over and pick up your pencil, laying your hands on his chest when you begged him to give you the answers. He adored the way you looked up at him so innocently, with pleading eyes, desperately needing his help. He loved helping you improve, after all, he wanted you to become a great hero by his side one day.

However, not everyone was oblivious to you and Izuku’s little sessions. Bakugo knew something was going on between you two. He had never seen Izuku so protective over someone the way he was with you. He hated the way the green-haired boy would stare at you with dark eyes when you spoke to another male student. He noticed how he’d always want to be around you, his demeanor changing when you would leave for a different class or when training sessions were split up. Bakugo was utterly disgusted by it, but it gave him an evil idea. ‘She doesn’t belong to him, she never will, I’ll be sure of it’ he thought to himself.

After last nights study session, you failed to realize that you had left your textbook on his bed. He noticed soon after you left and texted you, telling you not to worry and that he’d bring it for you tomorrow morning. You had missed him in the morning though, running late from going to get an iced coffee, so you decided you would get it from his bag in the locker room before your chem class. You both had training but you had to go to a different site with the rest of the girls, while the boys stayed in a closer facility.

Your water quirk meant that you spent a lot of time getting wet, so naturally, your hero suit looked like an elegant yet sexy two piece swim suit. The top was white, long sleeved with a cut out above your breasts and the bottoms were a standard bikini bottom, with sheer white tights that were waterproof. You always felt so weird wearing it during co-ed training sessions, but Momo urged you to feel confident in it, telling you that you looked sooo hot in it. You got to the girls locker room early to slip into your hero suit. You made your way over to the boys locker room and took a peek inside. They all seemed to be out and training already so you snuck inside. You looked around before you spotted his bag, his All Might backpack. You chuckled a bit before bending over to unzip the bag. You grabbed your textbook from it and zipped the bag back up. You stood up to leave but when you turned to face the door, a large figure stood in your way.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing in here?” the intimidating blonde scoffed at you. You shuffled backwards, clutching your book in your arms. You were sure that everyone had left already, was he here the whole time? He began to step forward before he was standing an inch from you. You looked up to meet his eyes that were piercing down at you.

“And you’ve got your sexy little hero suit on, its almost like you wanted to get caught in here” he laughed with a devilish grin.

“I-I have training to go to. I was getting my textbook from Izuku’s bag” you managed to say. His eyes filled with rage upon hearing his name. He thought of the late nights you two spent together, he imagined Izuku talking down to you, treating you like some helpless puppy, acting like he was some sort of hero, taking advantage of you. You were taken back by the face he made at you. You knew Bakugo hated Izuku, but what did your relationship with him have to do with that? Was he jealous? Or spiteful?

“I dont know what you see in Deku, but I can promise you, you’ll forget all about him after this” Bakugo said in a husky voice. ‘After what?’ you thought. Before you had time to think, his hand was wrapped around your neck as he pulled his lips to yours, crashing the two together. You and Izuku weren’t dating, but something about this felt wrong. You pulled yourself away from him and stepped back.

“Bakugo, w-we shouldn’t, this isn’t right”

“I don’t think you belong to him do you? Come on, I see the way you look at me”

He was right, you do look at him with flirtatious eyes, or at least, you used to. Before you and Izuku started meeting to study, you would fawn over Bakugo. He never seemed to return the feelings however, always picking on you or making fun of you. You deemed that as him being uninterested, so you moved on from your infatuation, but you were very wrong. He never stopped watching over you, showing his affection in his own odd way. But his heart dropped when he realized you didn’t look at him the same anymore, but looked at Izuku that way instead. He couldn’t stand to see you with that nerd when he deserved to have you. You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he had stepped closer to you. You were up against the lockers now, your exposed back grazing the cold metal.

He bent down and whispered seductively in your ear, “Let me make you feel good baby, we don’t have much time in here and I think you should see what a real man feels like”. He pressed his lips to yours, more feverishly this time, as if he was about to lose you. His tongue invaded your mouth and tangled with yours. You didn’t pull away this time so he slipped his hand under your suit and began to grab at your breast. He brought his coarse fingers to your nipples and began gently rolling it around between them. You let out a breathy moan into his mouth. He shuddered at the sound of your voice, he loved hearing you enjoy his touch.

He traced his free hand down your stomach until he got to the waist band of your tight bottoms. You squeeze his shoulder with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He slipped his hand underneath and started by running his fingers along your folds. He dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to gently pump them in and out of you. He removed his lips from yours, moving down to your neck, sucking and biting at your tender flesh. You let out soft cries as his fingers pick up the pace.

“Tell me what you want” he demanded, looking back up into your eyes. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest as you remembered why you were in the locker room in the first place. Anguish and regret was painted on your face and Bakugo noticed.

“Don’t feel bad baby, what he doesn’t know cant hurt him, now be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want” he said as he plunged another finger inside you. Your legs shook and all your thoughts of Izuku vanished under his touch. He was only trying to comfort you in the moment, but he wanted Izuku to know what you two were doing.

“P-please I want you, I want you i-inside please” you begged. You needed to feel him, you needed him to fuck you.

“I knew it, Deku’s just not doing it for ya is he?” he said with a cocky grin. Truth be told, you and Izuku had never gotten that far before because he was taking things too slow. You desperately needed a good fuck, it had been months since you’ve last felt this good. You knew Izuku would be a gentle sweetheart in the sheets but you needed someone who could do both; fuck you senseless but also make love, and Bakugo could hit both those marks.

He removed his fingers from you as you clenched around the emptiness he left. He pulled your bottoms down and quickly turned you around, pushing your face into the lockers. You hear him fumble to unzip his pants before he prodded his member at your entrance. You couldn’t look back to see exactly how big he was but when he began to drag his cock along your folds, your legs started to tremble. He gathered your slick and pushed into you. You let out a loud cry as your walls grasped onto his girthy cock. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back, holding them with one hand. He started to violently pound into you, his balls slapping against your swollen lips, echoing in the empty locker room. He used his free hand to reach around and started to swirl his fingers around your sensitive nub. His pace never let up, he started to thrust harder and deeper with every second. Tears started to form as you felt your orgasm coming up.

“Who do you belong to?” he grunted into your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“You Katsuki, I be-belong to you”

“Thats right babygirl, only me, now cum all over my cock”

Your legs began to quiver and your entire body convulsed. You let out a long cry as your walls clenched and released your juices all over him. He couldn’t take much more after that and removed his hand from your nub before he grabbed at your ass, gripping onto it for dear life. His pace quickened before he quickly pulled out, his cock twitching, warm shots of cum spurting all over your back and ass. He leaned to kiss you on the cheek then walked over to his bag, pulling out a small white towel. You stayed motionless, still with your face pressed against the lockers waiting for him to return. He cleaned you up and turned you around to face him. Realizing how long you two were in there, you quickly pulled your bottoms and tights up, fearful that the other boys would be returning any moment. Bakugo looked disappointed in how rushed you were to leave him. You tried to step forward but he planted a hand next to your head against the lockers. With his other hand he tilted your chin up and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“You know I can tutor you right?” he said with a small smirk. You blushed at the suggestion. You didn’t really need tutoring anymore, but you would love to see him again. Before you could answer you heard a door open. Bakugo removed his arm from the locker and turned to look at who interrupted you two.

“Y/n! Are you okay? Did you find my bag?” he asked sympathetically. You swallowed hard and just nodded, bending to pick up the textbook you had dropped. You quickly scurried to the door before looking back at Bakugo quickly with a stern eye, as if signaling for him to ‘keep his mouth shut’. He looked back at you with a devious smile and a wink before you shut the door.

“What are you doing in here with y/n? What did you do?”

“I just taught her a lesson, I don’t think she’ll be needing your help anymore” Bakugo said with a smug grin before leaving Izuku alone in the locker room.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #izuku fluff

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

hello its me atsushi can i please request chuuya, dazai and yosano separately with a gn s/o who like flinches whenever someone raises their hand im sorry if this is like too much but its a t hing i do bc trauma ig? im sorry am i doing this right- ALSO if you cant thats fine just make sure you take care of yourself bc you deserve the world 💜💜💜 -atsushi

Hope you don’t mind that I’ve put this into HC/drabble form! (I did try to write in one-shot form, but that was not going to work. So please excuse the lack of detail into the reason and things being slightly brushed off and undetailed)

Falls into comfort.

Words: 999

Enjoy!

Comfort for a reader who flinches whenever someone raises their hand| |Chuuya/Dazai/Yosano x Reader|

~Chuuya~ (319 words)

Chuuya had always been loud, his natural deflect for his height. He’d been with them, his s/o for a few years now. He’s always been careful with them. It was an instinct to handle the things he cared for delicately. It didn’t matter how strong they were, he just felt the need to be careful. It was out of character for his temper to control him around his s/o. He’d noticed tiny flinches when he reached over them, but he’d never thought much of it. People often retracted from him. He didn’t mind, but he’d never seen the fear so bad in a flinch before.

It had been a rough week, with so much going wrong Chuuya was past his limit.

He always kept the reins tightly held around you, but tonight he didn’t realize you were off-set, different, less approachable.

He’d summed it up to caution or your own stress.

He’d never thought it would be a trauma reaction.

It’s common for people who’ve gone through such things to go into a cautious state they don’t notice.

The tightness of your movements, the somewhat distant look.

He’d only reached out to you.

Yes, his expression was slightly aggressive, more than usual when he’s around you.

Yet he hadn’t expected you to flinch back so much.

He’d instantly retracted his hand and stared at you before his pride tried to wiggle around.

He wanted to shout but instead took the time to shove away his temper.

“Y/n, are you afraid of me?”

An honest question.

If you shake your head he stands there for a while until he makes the connection and balls his hands into fists.

“Who?”

A one-word question that asked many more questions.

There was always a reason, and he’d get that reason.

If you tell him it’s nothing he’ll let it go for the moment.

He’ll then offer you sweets and cuddles.

~Dazai~ (338 words)

Dazai would watch them from far off. There were few moments in time when his eyes were not on Y/n. They were his world, his only reason to keep going. Of course, there were certain things he’d love to do with them. Such as a double suicide. He, however, knew he wanted to see them live, and if that meant he had to go on so be it. Yet, he also hated seeing them in constant suffering, or at least, to him it appeared like that. Even if others didn’t notice the small jerks their body made he did. It drove him insane not understanding why. It was clearly trauma-related. That was the only conclusion his mind would come to. Today he sat with them at the table after a rough day.

You looked tired like you hadn’t slept well in a while.

“Something bothering you?”

Dazai was always pestering you with questions. Trying to get you to open up.

When you insist you’re alright he pecks your cheek and stands.

A little while later when he returns with a glass of water he sets it down and reaches.

The second your body moves away he drops his hand.

“You’re afraid.'' He knew it didn’t mean you were necessarily afraid of him.

Yet, it still hurt because you knew just how shitty a person he had been.

He says nothing after that. He’s waiting for you.

When you do reach for him he wraps his arms around you. He’s slow as to not startle you.

He runs his hands through your hair and snuggles his head into the crook of your neck.

On a reflex, he began telling you how much he loves you. He tells you, you're safe. He keeps you in his arms until you’re completely relaxed.

Even then he does not break away from you. His fingers trace along your back as he carries you to the bedroom for cuddles.

He’s not letting you go until he’s forced to work by Kunikida’s obnoxious calls.

~Yosano~ (342 words)

Yosano would observe her s/o for a while. When they flinch she’d make a mental note. When they reserve themselves to privacy, she notes it. She’s always been like this. She was worried from two perspectives, as a doctor, and as their s/o. She knew the signs of what she was seeing. She knew what it was that she was seeing. She knew how to deal with physical injuries, but dealing with mental injuries was a whole other league. Eventually, she decided to help and offer comfort.

She waited for you, a glass of champagne open.

She sipped on it as she read over her notes.

When you walked through the door she waved you over.

Sliding you a glass she started a light chatter.

She waited until you were relaxed to ask if you were doing alright.

She didn't exactly know where to start this conversation.

She’d ask if there was anything you wanted to tell her.

If you tell her there isn’t anything she may sigh and take a few more sips of her drink before tapping her pen on the counter.

“Dearest, I’ve noticed a few things lately. I just want to make sure that you’re doing alright.”

If you still don’t open up she’ll accept defeat and offer you a small kiss before she goes to shower and get ready for the night.

If one night she makes the small mistake of raising her hand towards you she’ll instantly back up and curse herself.

Her first instinct is to give you space.

If you hardly noticed your own reaction, because it’s almost normal to you now, she’s confused.

If you reach for her she’ll offer her body to be used for comfort.

Whether it’s clinging to her, hugging each other, or walking off to snuggle in each other's company, she’s ready to listen.

If you decide to explain she’s quick to hide her displeasure in what caused this.

If you don’t want to tell her she offers comfort with words, whispering how you’re safe with her.

#bsd #bsd comfort #bsd comfort x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x reader comfort #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs comfort #bungo stray dogs comfort x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader comfort #chuya #chuuya #dazai #yosano #chuya comfort #chuuya comfort #dazai comfort #yosano comfort #chuya x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #yosano x reader #chuuya x reader comfort #chuya x reader comfort #dazai x reader comfort #yosano x reader comfort #chuya comfort x reader #chuuya comfort x reader #dazai comfort x reader #yosano comfort x reader

[thithesandofferings]

Yandere FFXV Crew

FFXV being Yandere- Gladiolus/Noctis/Prompto/Ignis/Ardyn/Regis

*Covers eyes* I am not here. But you are. You might as well read. 

:readmore:

TW:  MINORS DNI  Dark Content. Yandere themes. Stalking. Dubious Dubious Consent. Slight Daddy kink. Masochism. Sadism. Slight exhibitionism. Fear play. 

Gladiolus - Geeezzz he's so in love with you. Has been for so long. Just watching you through the castle. He just knows you'd look good in his bed. With a ring on your finger (and neck) crying out his name. He sees the other knights in the castle chatting you up, but he may or may not be standing behind you giving them the death glare. Its only accidental that a couple of knights disappear. Only happenstance that these were the same men that gave you a hard time. When you look at him with needy eyes asking him for help, he has to have you. Wont let you out of his room. Look hes trying to make you feel safe and secure. You may think he's not the kindest when he buckles you in your collar connected to a brick wall and gives you the deepest of kisses. Grips your chin to open your mouth so he has more access- every day before he goes to work. He knows you hate when he leaves and hes gonna make it up to you. He even promised you a baby if youre good. Your eyes are misting, but theres no reason for it. you know he's gonna fuck you into that very same wall when he gets home. Give you all the attention that you've been whining for. "Awww sorry princess, Daddy didnt mean it. Im not letting you go unitl you forgive me".

Noctis- Two words. Cage Beds. Always. He loves you, but he cant trust you as far as he can throw. He was even nice enough to pick the bed with you in the room.  Keeps one leg shackeled at all times when he doesnt have sights on you. Why would you want to get out anyways? Your sole purpose is to serve him. He would never feel bad for taking your life. Its his anyways. He might use the guards to spy on you, and so what? You like to run. And not that he doesnt like to chase you, no, it becomes a hassle when he has duties to fulfill for the kingdom. Playtime is not 24/7 pet and you know this. He has to roll his eyes because it seems that no one understands that not a single soul is allowed to talk to you in any capacity. At this point he's going to have to pay his public executioner more, he's been working overtime. Probably gonna have to fuck your little mouth shut again just to give everyone a break.  He would hope you'll get used to being his possession. Its hardly sexual at this point, especially when he can use you like a malleable toy. You're cute,  but he's really been thinking about...experimentation during his down time. Wonders what you'd do if he held a syringe of anything next to that cute face.  

Prompto - He doesnt mean to be angry. He doesnt. But you just make him so hot, its hard to cipher his feelings out of something so strong. You were so nice and thats why he took you in the first place; but now youre so hurtful. How is he supposed to deal with that- especially when youre saying mean things to him. How could you say something about his humanity! He has it! He definitely doesnt mean to bruise you, gripping your waist so tight that bruises form, its an honest mistake. But he has to prove it to you somehow that he is deserving of you. He adores it when he fucks you so good that you pass out. Pleas and gasp making an abrupt choked noise when your head hits the pillow. Doesnt mean he's gonna stop his hips from moving. He needs to prove to you that you are it. So he'll fuck you awake so he can remind you. No matter how much it takes.

Ignis- Wants to get inside your head first. To be the only thing you think about. Walks by you and sometimes bumps into you. Says he's sorry and touches you. makes sure that your mind drifts to him. He knows exactly where you're going to be at the exact time. Of course he's input cameras into every point in your house and office. He cant keep an eye off you for a second. What if that "partner" from the other cubicle comes by and hassles you again? He sees the way that man looks at you. Distractingly similar to how Ignis himself looks at you. But that guy doesnt care about you. Doesnt know what you like to eat or what flowers you like first thing in the morning. Or that you even prefer to be bent over the desk rather than pressed against the window. Probably doesnt know that your hole squeezes just a little tighter when someone walks pass. Has to press his hand against your mouth when you get a little too loud. Frown deepens when he thrust into you as hard as he can when your "partner" knocks on the door.

Ardyn- He's so giddy when you wake up and his lips are already on yours before your eyes open. He picked up the change of breathing and wanted to be ready for you. He can mark what belongs to him right? Gods he cant wait until he puts bruises on that pretty skin. He wants to hear you whine for him. You may be a resistant now, but you'll come around. They always do. He's seen the way your eyes flutter just slightly when he grasps your throat when youre being just a little too bratty. The way you beg gets him so hard- he wants to fuck you where you stand, but he's trying to be patient. Knows that one day you'll come to him crawling on your hands and knees with that cute little collar, leash in mouth, begging for him to fuck you. He can wait. He's waited this long hasnt he?

Regis- In the name of the throne, it has to be done. You have to be his. Does not matter your standing whether high status or low born. You were supposed to be his. The Gods told him so. Its a shame you were taken from your home by his very guards, but he knew you would have a better life with him. He would treat you right. Give you all the little toys your heart desired. He's wanted you for so long. How dare you ignore him? A king? He'd make sure you never step foot out of the castle again. For your own good. You deserved the best. And you would get the best too wouldnt you? His fingers, his mouth, even his time. He wants those beautiful face writhing in pleasure not pain, but if you dont behave, he'll take either.

#yandere #ff15 #ff15 noctis #ff15 x reader #ffxv x reader #ffxv gladio #ff15 ardyn #ff15 regis #noctis x reader #gladio x reader #final fantasy xv

[rotshop]

help girl i just woke up and im already thinking abt mag s/o again. anyway please consider ;

[ tw body horror, some brief light gore and violence ]

[ note ; reader is SLIGHTLY described. the only thing mentioned is that they have a noticeable, identifying scar on their face

hank + mag s/o

-he knew you even before the boombox incident. he doesn't even really remember how you two first met, he just remembers that you started talking to him and then just kinda kept coming back. at first he wasn't the biggest fan of you since he was 'doing just fine on his own,' but...he admittedly was already really attached to you. they've never been much of a talker and that's especially noticeable to you at that point in time but ,,, they respond enough with signing, nodding / shaking their head, or the occasional speaking that you're able to carry some conversations pretty well.

-he doesn't really. have. a lot of people in his life. you're really his only real close friend, it's kinda hard for him to fully wrap his head around it so !! they chose not to, instead focusing more-so on whatever it was you were rambling to them about that day.

-not super sure of where to put this lmao but ummm ehe . he's actually surprisingly touchy with you????? like. you've hung out at his house a few times and he just like. you'll start out sitting next to each other and you'll end up either laying with your head on their chest or vice versa . its . a little funny . you tease him about it a little and he just flicks your shoulder. also traces your scar a lot if you'll let them, they're not entirely sure why they do it, they just . like asking you about it occasionally.

-also you have scary dog privileges. they might look like any other grunt at that point but they're still tall as fuck and idk man !! something abt getting a blank stare from someone who towers over u would probably make u shut up and mind ur own damn business.

-again, he's not super good at fully recognizing / acknowledging certain thoughts and feelings of his but . yknow. he can definitely tell he at least worries about you a lot more than he would some other grunt he just met. he can definitely tell there's a reason he doesn't mind you touching him, whether by grabbing his hand to go show him something or just placing a hand on his shoulder or arm (most likely arm, again. hes tall. ). they can definitely tell there's a reason that they find themself genuinely enjoying your interactions.

-after the park thing you don't see them for a long time. everytime you try and call him the lines dead, everytime you try and ask others about him you just get choice words, all in all you're pretty much lost on the entire thing. sure, you know what happened but . it just never sits right with you. it doesn't help whenever people ask questions about them or give you wary looks because of your association, half steps back when you take one forward.

-anyway. yeah nevada goes to shit and you get magnified for the aahw. by now you just. don't really talk about hank. surprisingly, you have a little more of your old memories than the average mag !! congrats. problem is they're all foggy enough that you only really distantly decipher them. lmao. you aren't super high on the ladder but you're a pretty tough mag to beat. you're well known enough that other mags tend to hang around you when there's not much else going on. v2 mags especially think it's fun to mess around with you by jumping on your back or otherwise clinging onto you . idk man u've got like . a little family here .

-at one point or another there's an outing youre on that ends up going wrong. you get split up from the rest of your unit and are forced to hide out in some old abandoned building while you wait for backup. you're a little too injured to try and walk all the way back, a heavy gash on your side preventing you from doing too much in the moment. when you hear heavy steps on concrete you're able to give some sort of noise of relief, turning your head to look over your shoulder at whichever agent in your group had finally found you-

-you're instead met with red goggles and the end of a gun.

-any kind of relief is snatched away, you know damn well who it is by just the bit you can see in the dark alone. even standing in the shade between two windows (one of which you were sitting by, probably how they seen you in the first place- if that's the case though, it's a little weird they hadn't just shot at you through it.) you knew it was him. you're already stumblingly forcing yourself up to as much of your full height as you can manage, taking some kind of defensive position even as one of your hands ghosts over your gash. the throbbing pain of it and the feeling of blood sticking and running down your skin is enough that you can't seem to focus on the fact that he won't stop staring at your face.

-it doesn't take long before your legs seem to fail you, forcing you forward a bit as you kneel in some sort of attempt to keep upright. you're too busy hissing under your breath and screwing your eyes shut in pain as your hand covers your side to notice your company stepping forwards. you're snapped back to attention when there's a hand on your face, fingertips digging into your skin as they yank your head down a little further. you know you should be grabbing him, that you should be digging your claws into his torso and ripping him clean in half, throwing whatevers left aside and leaving. you know thats what you were told to do, what you were told they deserved anyway. yet, you aren't. instead, you're just giving some warning growl as you stare at them. you notice how the end of the gun is pointed away from you, how their touch seems to outline the mark on your face.

-"If you try and hurt me, I'll kill you." That's the only real heads up you get before he's crouching down and shoving your hand out of the way, grabbing something from his pocket to get to work on you. you don't fail to notice how little attention they're paying to you (aside from the focus on your wound, of course), that you could just rush forward and slam them into the ground if you really wanted.

-ok im skippin g ahead bc this is already way too goddamn long for hcs DEJWJCS

-anyway. it's a complicated relationship for a while. the others tend to avoid you a little but he just keeps showing up around you. they keep staring at you and just hanging around in your general area. it's not that much of an irritant if you ignore all the weird emotions and thoughts it keeps bringing to the forefront of your mind, forcing you to once again try and meddle with your memories.

-eventually he just starts walking over to you and sitting down next to you. sometimes he doesn't say anything at all, just sitting there and seeming to wait for one thing another- he never seems to find whatever that is, as he always gets up and leaves without a word at some point or another. then they start talking, its just little things at first, point-blank statements you can't say much on. sometimes they're just saying they and the other three will be gone for a bit othertimes it's some half-demand to let them look at the stitches they did on you (semi-related, he's not good at them. the stitches are pretty rough. at one point or another sanford has to redo them properly lmao)

-but then there's one particular night. they do the normal thing, come over, sit down next to you, not say a word. this time though you note how they're facing you. instead of some reminder or a demand for anything, he's pulling his ask down and asking a simple question. 'What do you remember?'

-it's a long conversation. he's talking more than he normally would by a long shot, occasionally stopping whenever his words seem to especially fail him and get stuck in his throat. you don't even really remember moving around, or even him pulling you in any way, you just know you somehow end up laying next to him with your head on his chest.

-whenever the memories do seem to click into place, it's hard. you have a lot of choice words for them yourself, months of being left alone without a word bubbling up with a vengeance, they listen to them. while some mags (such as yourself) do have the ability to speak, the san and dei don't think they've ever heard one with that much emotion in their voice. they've especially never seen a mag just break down like you do, they're both tensing up a little from their far away spot when hank's walking closer to you. instead of you lashing out or swiping at him though, you just sit there while he wraps his arms around you (as best as he can at least, it's a little difficult but he's able to get them around your neck and reach his other hand behind you well enough). you're eventually doing the same to him, though it's more so just your hands resting on their back.

-it takes a good while for proper trust to be rebuilt along with an honest, proper explanation from hank that only you're privy to. eventually though, there's enough trust that you're able to hang around him again without narrowly avoiding an argument or anything. they don't like being super affectionate or 'vulnerable' in front of the other two, so most times they prefer being in your or their room. also they're still touchy lmao, doesn't help that you're mag sized now and so they just want to hold you . its hard to explain, he's never been super affected by others heights and even when he is it's usually a negative thing for him but . for some reason . he just likes being shorter / smaller than you lol ,,,,,,,, hope you like holding them a lot bc that's what you're gonna be doing

-holy shit these are long so . i think .i am going to stop here.

#hank j wimbleton x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat imagines #rot writes #hank 'jmy s/o is twice my size and could turn me into a fine wine if they really wanted to and i love them for it' wimbleton

[a-libra-writes]

OH SPEAKING OF BOBBY B WOULD YOU EVER WRITE HCS FOR BEING LIKE HIS DAUGHTER/LIKE JOFF’S TWIN OR SMTH AND ROBERT ACTUALLY LIKING YOU

-🐚🌌

i miss my dad so i guess thats why im doing these specific requests LOL

So, imagine the first child between Cersei and Robert. The one that survived a sickly cradle, against all odds. The one with hair that was unmistakably black, not gold. The one Cersei couldn't stand the moment every time she laid eyes on her in the crib, because of all her negative and hurt feelings toward Robert. This is back when she was still a teenager, and her fantasies about the brave Baratheon that toppled the Mad King turned to smoke and mirrors.

Needless to say... over the years, she'd take out a lot of her frustration on this kid.

Robert likes that the child laughs and runs and smiles. He's far too indulgent, allowing her to sit on his knee during tourneys even if Cersei finds them too violent. He has extravagant gifts for her, anywhere from expensive dolls made of silk or a whole pony. He'd even take her on hunting expeditions - even if his Kingsguard protested - showing her how to use a bow and boarspear, even if she's far, far too young and small to handle such weapons.

When Joffrey is born, Robert struggles to bond with him the same way. Joff doesn't laugh easily like his daughter did, instead he cries and screams all the time. Cersei protectively keeps him away, claiming Robert distresses the boy. In truth, she prefers Joff right away, because he's a boy, and a son of Jaime besides ... ... and deep down, she's always been hurt how her daughter seems to prefer Robert.

The more the girl grows up to be like him, the more Robert prefers her. If she's outgoing and laughs easily, he'd much rather spend time with her than a fussy Joffrey. If she's active and healthy, he'll want to teach her how to ride. He'd allow lessons with swords and spears if she begged enough, though Cersei would absolutely forbid it.

As the child gets older, she'd begin to notice her father breaking promises. Sometimes he smells too much like drink, and he loses his temper and yells at her mother. Her mother yells at him, yells at her. She can't seem to get her mother's favor, no matter how nicely she dresses or speaks.

Her grandfather Tywin is cold, distant and scary, and she knows her father dislikes him, so she hates coming to Casterly Rock. Uncle Jaime is strangely distant too, but at least Uncle Tyrion is kind and plays with her. He gives her books and encourages her to read to Myrcella and Tommen, and look after them. Uncle Stannis is a bit strict, but once he showed her all the ships on the harbor, and she always remembered that. Uncle Renly was almost as funny as her father, and always smelled better.

To Cersei, Robert's favor to their first child is beyond irksome. He should be favoring his first son, his heir! He's a little indulgent with Myrcella, and doesn't think too much about Tommen. She'll begin to criticize and pick at her eldest daughter, trying to cut down on traits that are too much like her father.

She'll quickly think of marriage, not caring that her daughter hasn't even had her first moonblood yet, not remembering how panicked and angry she was at her own father's plans to marry her quickly. She doesn't want Ned's oldest marrying her daughter, as much as Robert wants that match. In her anger, she almost wants to punish her husband and oldest daughter for having the gall to be so similar. She wants a match that will upset them.

If the girl was more tomboyish and fond of fighting, she'd win the argument to learn swords. It would be a huge wedge between Cersei and Robert, one of their big fights, but she'd learn. And she'd be good at it. If she was more ladylike and interested in the court, she'd begin to find her father's mistakes and cover for them at too young of an age. Lord Arryn would try to shield her from it, but, well ...

No matter what, by the time she's thirteen or fourteen, her idyllic image of her heroic, strong father would begin to tarnish. She'd see the drinking, the whores, the expensive feasts, the explosive fights with her mother. She'd notice the cruel tendencies in Joffrey, and would try to shield Myrcella and Tommen from not just him, but the rumors surrounding their father. She'd want them to stay sweet and good. She tried with Joffrey, but he never liked her. He was clearly Cersei's favorite, while she was clearly Robert's, and that meant they were tools during their parent's arguments.

She'd have no end of handmaidens from various wealthy kingslander families, and the loyal Kingsguard that were fond of her, and whatever pets she desired. She might still feel lonely in the Red Keep, and escape to the vast gardens to hide from her parent's fighting over who she'll marry. The feasts and parties were fun, but sometimes too tiring, and it seemed every knight and lord's son wanted to fight in her honor or be the first to dance with her.

And she'd start to notice that Lord Arryn and Uncle Stannis were asking her odd questions, or observing her as she played with her youngest siblings. She didn't hear them muttering about her black hair or loud laugh.

She'd have a lot on her plate, and a lot of pressure to work under. When Jon Arryn died and her father announced they were going North, a place she'd never been, to meet a man she'd heard so many stories about but never met... Well, it was an exciting adventure and a distraction. She even got to take her youngest siblings, and her father would let her ride with him if the road was safe. He even bought her a new, fine horse for the long journey.

He always told her war stories, but when he talked about these, he finally seemed happy. His blue eyes twinkled as he talked about the mischief he got up to in the Eyrie with his best friend Ned, who was more brother than his own brothers. He'd tell her about Winterfell, and how she might be the Lady of it someday.

"It only seems right to join our houses," Her father was saying. He didn't bother wearing the crown on this ride, and he was dressed in comfort instead of style. "It's what I've always wanted, but... I'll make sure that son of his is deserving of my girl. You're the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms! We'll have to have a talk with this wolf-boy of Ned's. We'll see if he's up to your standards."

Robert laughed, and it was hard not to smile. He meant it, she knew. He really did want what was best, and he'd been delaying marrying her away to whoever asked. She had cautious optimism when it came to her father's promises, but for now... it was a beautiful day, and they were having a nice ride.

#thanks me for making myself emotional GOOD JOB #idk what to tag this lol #libra headcanons #got x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #MY BLOG NEEDS ORGANIZING

[t0shii]

% comforting them when they're upset

.! oikawa, tsukishima, matsukawa (sep) x gn!r

.! angst + fluff/ breakdowns, crying, etc. lightly proofread bc im lazy so sorry for any mistakes.

.! im so sorry if this is absolute word vomit or horse shit 😭 i tried my best though 😌 uhhh sorry for not posting yesterday i got my daith pierced and i was in a lot of pain after that so i didnt feel like writing anywho enjoy this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 p.s. i was originally gonna write for mad dog but i was struggling so i went with mattsun instead sorry. also idk why matsuns ended up being so short i didnt do him justice i apologize 😩

oikawa

— always gets discouraged when his knee bothers him. today was one of those days. his coach had made him sit out of practice because he had been limping a bit. he came home distraught and you noticed right away.

"what's the matter toru?" you asked opening your arms for a hug, which he accepted, wrapping his arms around your middle quite tightly. "my knee is bothering me again 'n coach made me sit out. it's just not fair." he mumbled into your shoulder. you could feel his tears soak through your shirt. you nodded and responded, "baby, he just doesn't want you to hurt yourself. i know it's not fair but-", "but i wanna play volleyball, i wanna get better and practice." he said, aggravated that you weren't exactly on his side, still he held you tighter.

"toru, baby, look at me." he does as told, and you bring your hands up to wipe his tear stained cheeks,"toru, you can't strain your knee anymore than you already do, you know this. i know you only want to play volleyball, baby i know, but you have to be patient." he nods in agreement and you do the same, then guiding his head back to your shoulder, "i know it's frustrating toru, but you can't force it, y'know? he wouldn't make you sit out if it wasn't for your best interest. you know that, deep down."

the two of you had been cuddling on the couch, his back against your chest when you heard him sniffling again, "toru, what's wrong?" you ask softly, sitting up slightly. "i'm so useless, my own knee can't even work right. the team deserves someone better and so d-do you" he hiccuped, hiding is face in his hands. you felt guilty for not comforting him more earlier. "toru, that's not true at all." you stated, forcing his hands into yours, "take it back right now." he looked at you confused. "toru oikawa i said take it back right this instant." you said a little sterner than before.

"no." he managed to get out through sobs, and you knew the stern method wasn't going to work this time around. "toru, please. you're not useless at all, not to anyone, not to the team, and especially not to me. you're the best teammate, friend and boyfriend anyone could ever ask for and your knee just needs a break sometimes, you just need a break sometimes and thats okay. needing a break doesn't make you useless or weak, toru." you say softly, guiding him to a sitting position, hugging him closely and tracing small, comforting shapes on his back.

"you're so so strong toru, and you're an amazing person, an amazing boyfriend, you're such an amazing volleyball player and i'm so proud of how far you've come since highschool." you say, kissing the crown of his head. "you mean it?" he asks leaning back to look at you, "i always do, toru. i love you more than anything, and i'm so so fucking proud of you, but you have to know, it's okay to need a break sometimes and it doesn't change who you are as a person and it definitely doesn't make you weak or useless. he nods in response, burrying his head into the crook of your neck. you both stay like that, you whispering words of affirmations, him listening fondly until he feels better a little while later.

tsukishima

— he usually didn't let the stress of professional volleyball get to him like this, but he couldn't help it he would be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed, from interviews, to extra practice to prepare for the overseas games he had coming up, he was exhausted, to add onto it all he had been neglecting you and he felt horrible for it.

you knew practice was going to be running late since your boyfriend had told you in advance, so you weren't initially worried as to why kei had been coming home late at night. this night in particular was the fourth night in a row kei been home late and you starting to grow concerned. you hadn't seen him hardly at all that week, which was unusual because he always made time for you no matter what. worried, you decided to stay awake and wait for him to get home.

when the time finally comes, your heart dropped at his appearance, he looked absolutely horrible, as if he hadn't slept right in weeks. "why are you up?" he mumbled, taking his shoes off rather sloppily, uncharacteristic of him. you made your way closer to yoir exhausted boyfriend, "kei, i'm worried about you. i know you don't like me meddling with your career, and please don't misunderstand my concern for that. i'm just worried you aren't getting enough rest and i've barely seen you at all this week." you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

you knew something was wrong when you saw the tear swell in his eyes, but he just stood there awkwardly, you walked closer toward him, "kei, what's wrong?" you ask, extending your arms toward him, which he basically fell into, he started sobbing immediately, shocking you initially. "i'm s-sorry for neglecting you this week, i didn't mean to i-i just-", "kei, i'm not worried about that, i'm worried that you aren't taking care of yourself properly." you mumble, patting his back comfortingly. to which he shakes his head no."work has been too much recently, i can't sleep and i barely have time to even think. its just practice, interviews, practice, interviews i-i can't handle it all anymore, y/n." he sobbed into your shoulder, you were speechless at his vulnerability.

"kei,-", "but i can't stop now because that'll make me a failure and i don't want to let you down and the team too, i just want to make everyone proud but i think i'm falling behind." he cried, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "kei, you could never let me down. actually, i think i've been letting you down recently, i don't tell you this enough but, i'm so so proud of you kei, so proud you don't even understand, i'm sorry for not expressing that enough to you. i understand that you feel as if you're falling behind but overworking and stressing yourself out isn't going to help you improve, kei, and i know you also know that."

"you're working yourself sick, kei and i can't stand here and continue to let that happen so you're taking a day off whether you like it or not. tomorrow will be a me and you day, how does that sound? i'll call your coach in the morning." honestly, you wouldn't have let him say no anyways, and he knew that so he just nodded his head. "look at me kei, you have to tell me when you're feeling overwhelmed. it's not good to keep things in like this, it's just like you tell me." he nods his head, but avoids eye contact, "and i'm not disappointed or upset at you, you know. but i can't read your mind, so please just tell me when things start to feel like they're crashing down on you 'kay? i'll help you just like you help me." you smile, he looks at you and nods, hugs you closer and whispers an "i love you" into your ear, which you return.

matsuwaka

— you knew his work was stressful and emotionally and mentally exhausting, so there were always worries in the back of your mind that he would become too overwhelmed, well today your worries became reality.

"welcome home issei." you called from the kitchen as your boyfriend walked through the door, though he offered you no response, which made you frown. "issei?-" you gasped when you felt a pair of strong arms sneak their way around your waist, "jesus, issei, you scared me!" you giggle placing your hands atop of his own, but you realized he was not laughing with you. "issei, baby?" concern laced in your tone as you maneuvered your way around to face him, "what's wrong baby?" you ask, taking his face in your hands to wipe at escaping tears.

"work was rough today." was all he said as he melted at the feeling of your thumbs running back and forth on his cheeks. "oh issei, i'm sorry." you mumbled, kissing the tip of his nose lightly, "is there anything i can do to help?" he didn't know why but something inside of him snapped when you asked him that, and sobs escaped his lips, he could only hide his face in the space between your neck and shoulder because for some reason he felt... ashamed to be crying in front of you like this. "please just hold me." he cried, so you did just that, shushimg him when his sobs got violent, rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly.

the both of you stood there for a good 15 minutes before you spoke up after he had calmed down a bit, "is there anything you need to get off your chest? you don't have to tell me now or even at all but i want you to know that whatever is bothering you, you can tell me, anything at all. i know your job is mentally exhausting and honestly i dont even know how you do it but i dont want you thinking you have to carry the burden of it alone, okay? i'm so proud of you, so so so proud of you issei, i just wanted you to know that."

you felt him nod in the crook of your neck, a soft, "thank you." sounding shortly after, "of course." you responded, kissing his shoulder a few time.he wasn't sure when he would feel completely ready to get things off his chest but he felt loved knowing that you would always be there to comfort him, and for that he was forever grateful.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #oikawa toru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #matsukawa hcs #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x y/n #matsukawa x reader #mattsun headcanons #mattsun x y/n #mattsun x reader #oikawa angst #matsukawa angst #mattsun angst #tsukishima kei #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukki x y/n #tsukishima angst #tsukki angst #sunni's works 📓

[fictional-scenarios]

hello! can i request an angsty fic with aizawa and f! reader where they break up? thank you!

i hope you enjoy this! i did it from his perspective, hope thats okay! also i know he probably wouldn’t actually be like this in a relationship, but for the fic, this is the only way i could see him being at fault :3

always appreciate reblogs and comments! if you’d lie to support me, here’s my ko-fi!

In the worst of the aftermath, Aizawa was not angry. He was never angry, not truly. Not even when he’d snap at his friends for bringing up her name, or when he’d feel rage churning in his stomach at the thought of her being with another. He was never angry. 

He was sad. So devastatingly, core achingly sad, that it kept him bed ridden for days at a time. Work, come home, eat and sleep. It wouldn't end. 

He’d always considered his quant home a safe haven, but lately it’d been feeling like a prison. It felt like a haunting museum, little bits of her as far as the eye could see. The memories were so vivid, he could still almost see the figure of her standing in his doorway. He could see her leaning on the window sill peering outside. He could see her shoes by the front door, her toothbrush in a cup upon his sink. He could see her under the covers with him, hushed laughter and soft snoring into the early morning.

Even now, he see’s her beside him in bed. He see’s the indent of where she should be, now terribly empty. It makes him feel cold, alone. 

But, being alone had never been a huge issue to him before all this. In fact, he knows it was the downfall of him. 

She’d just wanted him to go out with her now and then. She just wanted to take photos with him, hold his hand out in public without feeling like she’d been forcing him. 

Aizawa buries his face in his hands, his back leaning against the cold wall, blanket curled around his waist like a weight. 

All she had wanted was just a little more life. Just a few more kisses, a few more hugs. A few more signs that he truly cared for her, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She knew he loved her, why couldn’t that be enough? 

He refused public dates that weren’t anniversaries or events. He hated photos. He hated when she’d clasp fingers around his own, hated it because all it brought was attention. Paparazzi's scavenging and ruining every affectionate and tender moment they’d shared together in public. 

He never understood why it had to be public. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why she would insist they get out and so something together. Why couldn't hanging out in the seclusion of his home be enough?

Always so stubborn, especially when it would have been the correct time to give in. His annoyance and unwillingness to be anything other than slow moving and low maintenance drove her away from him. He was just fine being on his own, so why couldn't she?

‘I feel like you’re embarrassed of me,’ She’d cried, having hit her breaking point. ‘I feel like you don’t even really care about me.”

Aizawa’s jaw tightens. Of course I care about you. Why else would I want you here?

He should have said that. But, he didn’t. Just silently witnessed the destruction unsure of what to do next. Unsure of whether to argue, or remain dormant and quiet. Not quite apathetic, but he was never one for a shouting match. 

Unfortunately, he chose to remain still in the face of a crumbling heart. 

‘Even now, you won’t say a word. You don’t ever talk to me, Shota. You never ask how my day was, or if I want to go do anything. Why do I feel like I’m just here so you’re not lonely?’ She’d had fat tears welling in the pits of her eyes. She looked drained, broken. ‘I need more,’ Voice cracking, a terrible realization she’d stumbled upon. ‘I need more than that.’ 

It was a tense moment of silence. She shook her head and choked back a harsh sob.

‘Then that’s it.’ Lip trembling, feeling unwanted. ‘I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m leaving.’

At the lucid memory, Aizawa wish's he could go back and punch himself in the head. Say something, you idiot, he’d scream. Tell her to stay.

She’d passed him by, and the door slammed shut before he even turned to watch her go. 

It’s been weeks now, and he can’t seem to get his head right. It’d taken days before she came to collect her things, something he hoped would never come to be. A stupid part of him believed that she’d come around for some reason. It’d happened before- her storming out, him never changing, her missing him enough to just... Get over it. This time, however, was much different. 

Sinking in the memories, Aizawa feels his throat tighten at everything she’d said, and even worse, everything he didn’t say. His phone lights up beside him. 

yamada: are you still moping in there???? come out w us tonight! you need to get outta bed at some point

yamada: its been weeeeeeks!!!!!!! come on!!!!!!!

Aizawa knows he does. He knows his friend has been trying to get him to leave since it happened, but it’s hard.  He answered his friend, deciding that tonight he would in fact go out for a few hours just to clear his mind- anything is starting to become better than seeing a home empty of her. He sends the message, and his heart grows heavy.

He said yes to his friends when he was feeling sorry for himself, but never for her. He knew he deserved it, but it hurt not having her anymore. Especially when all he had to do was say yes sometimes. 

What stung the most was that he didn’t get to see her when she came to collect all her items, cram them into a box and leave for the last time. He’d hoped at that point, if it ever came to that, he could convince her to stay. But.. She hadn’t told him she was coming. Perhaps because she knew she was bound to give in. 

He came from from U.A., hoping that she’d be there, sleeping soundly or sitting terse on the couch ready for an argument ending conversation. 

But, she wasn’t there. In fact, nothing of her was. All her things vacated. Everything but the memory of her stripped away. 

Aizawa had stood stunned in the doorway. Then, it all came crashing down. She was serious this time. It was set in stone.

She’d really left him.

He didn’t think she’d actually leave him. Arguments were always so easy for Aizawa. He was a firm believer in ‘take me as a I am, or don’t take me at all.’ But, he’d never realized just how much changing she’d done for him. 

When he’d first met her at a group outing, she was full of life. She was bouncy and energetic. She had a sea of friends, a world of opportunities. But with him, with Aizawa’s stubbornness combined with her need and want to spend time with him, she went out less and less. Contacts in her phone dwindled from a vast ocean to merely puddles. 

Seldom she went out, and on the rare occasions she was able to get Aizawa to go, she’d dress in her best just for him to chastise her. ‘We’re not going anywhere that fancy,’ he’d remark, not noticing how her eyes fell. ‘Aren’t you a little over dressed?’

Guilt tore up his heart, now. She was always so beautiful dressed up like that, how could he ever say those things? Too late did he notice how she’d changed everything for him. Lost friends, missed outings, just so she could remain by his side. He did everything wrong and wasn't even willing to see it. He felt like a neglectful, stubborn, ass. 

Forcing himself up from bed, it takes all his strength to get up and wander into the bathroom. He’d need to start getting ready then if he was to go later. He was a slow moving creature, after all. Lazily, mentally drained and exhausted, he opens the mirror and pulls his toothbrush from the little shelves inside. The mirror swings shut and he’s met with his dreadful reflection. 

His eyes are even darker, redder, than they ever were with his quirk. Even he could tell he looked worse for wear. Drained, emotionally vacant yet so powerfully overrun with them at the same time. He looked dead. He brings the toothbrush to his teeth, but can’t bring himself to find the motivation to actually begin cleaning up. 

So tired. 

He just wants to sleep again. 

He wants to text her. But he doesn’t.

Tossing the toothbrush into the sink, resting his elbows on the edges and allowing his head to hang in sorrow, he wonders what she’s doing right now. It’s a warm Friday evening, the blue sky wide and clear. He’s sure she’s going out tonight, finally allowing herself the freedom to make up for all the time she’d missed with her friends. Friday’s were always Aizawa’s least favorite day. He just knew she’d want to go out, and he’d always combat it with a movie she’d been wanting to see, coming up with some random excuse as to why it wouldn’t be an ideal idea to go out. 

Then, he’d ignore how she sadly watched her friends social media stories about the night, and ignored their texts asking why she’s never around anymore.

God, what he would give for one more Friday night with her. He’d dress up, he’d take her somewhere so nice even he would be afraid he couldn’t afford the food. Her and all her friends. Whoever she wants, the whole world if need be. He’d do anything she wanted, strut her to a party on a red-carpet. Anything just for another Friday night. 

Aizawa’s eyes cast back up to his reflection. A lump forms in his throat, he watches his eyes glisten with tears. He wants to fall into the floor and forget about everything. 

Pushing himself away from the sink, he shake his head and gags on how tight his threat feels. Without even a moments hesitation, he finds himself right back in his room, pulls the covers aside, and drowns in them all over again. It’s dark, it’s cold. His own rooms uninviting without her. 

Yet, he can’t seem to bring himself to leave it.

His phone sits on his pillow. Aizawa opens his friends message. 

‘im going to stay in tonight. thank you for inviting me. im tired’

Aizawa doesn’t even want to see the messages his friend instantly starts blowing his phone up with. Instead, seconds after the text sends, he holds the power button until the entire screen goes black. He rolls over to face the wall, and he feels like he’s made of led. He swallows hard and gives into sleep all over again. His arm slings around a pillow, and he clutches it to his chest. 

A forever inanimate reminder of where she once laid. 

#aizawa shouta #angst #bnha #mha #imagine #x reader