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mapofthesea · 2 years

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jungkook x fem!reader

non idol!au, domestic jungkook

genre: smut and fluff

word count: 3k

summary: After your midday nap ends in a nightmare, you seek Jungkook for comfort.

warnings: talk of a bad dream (some discussion of it but nothing crazy), needy Jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, face sitting, oral (f receiving), lots of love for readers tits, body appreciation in general, they're in love, handjob, some teasing/begging, jk is whiny but still in charge, dirty talk, unprotected sex in an established relationship (this is fiction, please don’t do this irl), jk cums inside, aftercare

an: This came to me in a dream again and I woke up far too early to write the outline. As always, I do not proof read (because I am lazy and spend enough time proof reading my college assignments) so if there’s any typos I apologize. This includes mature content and is for 18+ audiences ONLY, so if you are underage or uncomfortable with this content, please don’t read it. Enjoy!

A shiver wracks down your spine, hair standing at attention underneath the warmth of your thick sherpa sweatshirt. The remnants of your dark nightmare leave you confused, even as a gentle mid-day sun streams into your bedroom and the pleasant chirping of birds faintly greets you. Your head spins and your mouth is dry, but you ignore both of those feelings as you rush out of bed.

Flashes of the nightmare seem to stick to you, even with the sunny disposition of the day. The feeling of hopelessness and loss stings you in the short walk down the hallway into Jungkook’s office, where you had left him when you went to bed. The door is ajar, and the breath you exhale as you open it is punched right back out of you when you find the room empty.

Anxiety simmers within you, promoted by the way you had just dreamed about not being able to reach your beloved boyfriend. The only thing you can think to do is rush down the stairs clumsily, narrowly avoiding banging your elbow off of the railing as you fly into the living room. Jungkook is there, sitting on the couch facing away from you, mindlessly tapping through his phone.

A sigh of relief falls from your lips as you latch yourself around him from behind the couch. He startles at your touch and turns until he’s sideways, level with your chest as he peers up at you.

His hair is endearingly mussed, a few errant pieces poking up at the crown. His big eyes twinkle at you, irises searching your own when he sees the stricken look on your face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Of course he immediately noticed something was wrong. You can only imagine how crazy you look fresh out of a nap and a subsequent panic.

“Just a bad dream.” You offer, running your hands down the steady plane of his back, enjoying the tangible proof of him being alive and well. Jungkook makes a low keening noise at your attention, nuzzling into the soft fabric of your sweatshirt so far that you almost don't hear his muffled words.

“Wanna talk about it?” You finally make out his words, and the thought of rehashing the dream brings tears to your eyes. Your breath hitches a little as he settles his head on your chest. His weight is grounding, and the fact that you can smell his intoxicating mix of shampoo and cologne gives you enough power to choke out the details.

“You needed help, and you kept calling for me, and I couldn’t get to you.” You sniffle and he whines, winding his hands around your back to hold you impossibly closer. “And you just kept yelling my name and I couldn’t find you, and I thought that you were...” the word stalls in your throat but he understands, nodding against your chest. One of your hands slides to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the constant rise and fall of his breath. “I just needed to know you’re still here.”

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m right here.” His hands are steady on your waist, nose nuzzling endearingly into the space just under your breasts. His actions make you shiver for a completely different reason, and a shuddering breath punches out of you.

“Need me to prove it?” His voice takes on a teasing lilt that makes your stomach flip and you hum your affirmation. Jungkook moves deliberately, nuzzling his face against your covered cleavage. Even through the layers of clothing you can feel your nipples harden, begging for him to give them more attention. He mouths at your tits through the fabric, playfully biting at the flesh there just enough to make you gasp.

“Fuckin’ sweatshirt,” he groans, looking up at you with well practiced puppy eyes. He knows he doesn't need them, that you would do basically anything he asked you right now, but he loves to see the way your face softens at his expression.

“Please take it off, baby. I wanna see your pretty tits. Wanna have ‘em in my mouth.” The genuine desperation in his voice is nothing new but it still makes your brain short circuit a bit as you scramble to pull the sweatshirt off. As soon as the fabric hits the floor Jungkook’s hands push your t-shirt up over your chest, holding it up around your collarbones with one hand as he dives into your tits.

He has no shame in lapping at you, leaving trails of translucent spit around your nipples as you keen. Jungkook sighs happily as his free hand gropes what he can't fit in his mouth, which he’s using to leave a sinful pattern of bite marks all over you. He makes a particularly pointed mark inches away from your nipple that has your knees buckling. He chuckles a breath of air across your already sensitive nipple and your hands grip greedily into the back of the couch for support.

The way his head looks at it bobs between your breasts makes you dizzy, not to mention the deft movements of his tongue and hand sending sparks straight to your core.

“Taste so fucking good baby, as always. Shit. I love these fucking tits.” He licks a bold stripe across your right nipple before capturing it between his lips and you pitch forward into his touch. Your hands move too, desperate to feel something other than the plush of your couch under them.

Jungkook is so wrapped up in you that he doesn't notice your hands have moved until you’re palming his cock through his lounge shorts. He groans and nips at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

The feeling of him readily hardening under your touch makes you moan, head tipped back as you trace the familiar length through the fabric.

“Wanna touch you, Jungkook, please.” Your eyes water with tears and he coos at you, stroking his thumb underneath your eye to collect some tears.

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Take my cock out while I suck these pretty tits.” His voice is barely more than a whine, but you feel confidence surge through you at the idea that you’re the one to make him this way. With no underwear on, it’s easy for you to get his cock out of the confines of his shorts. The weight and size of him is familiar and almost welcoming as you begin to stroke him the way you know he likes. You savor the feeling of his prominent veins as his cock jumps in your touch. His breath stutters against your chest in tiny puffs, giving away just how badly his resolve was slipping as you work your thumb over the head.

“Fucking shit, you have to stop,” his hands fall away from you, head tipping back as you stroke him particularly hard. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly.

You decide to ignore his words but only manage to stroke him a few more times before he pushes your hands off of him with a growl. His eyes are dark with lust, hungrily racing over your figure that’s back to being covered with your t-shirt. Your chest heaves as he tips his head toward the empty space on the couch, and even without words you know what he wants.

You settle into the couch and seconds later Jungkook is over you. You can see the way he’s pushed his hair off of his forehead, and the sexy crease of his eyebrows as he appraises you.

“Stupid shirt,” he mumbles as he helps you take it off, mumbling endearingly as it gets stuck on his hands while he tries to get it onto the floor. His own follows shortly after, and it doesn't take long before he’s hovering above you completely bare.

His cock stands at attention against his toned stomach and you reach for it, hoping he takes some pity and lets you return the favor of amazing foreplay.

“No,” he grunts as you make contact with him. A shy smile splits his face when he notices your pout and his demeanor softens despite the situation. Jungkook brings his face inches away from your own and smiles.

“You know I haven't even kissed you since you came down here? How awful of me.”

“Hmmm, worst boyfriend award pending,” you tease. He smiles again and his nose wrinkles adorably, teeth poking out in the most endearing way. Your stomach flips at his beauty, how lucky you are to have him.

“Fuck, just kiss me, please,” you breathe, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to feel his lips on your own. You keep a steady hold on the back of his neck as you kiss, clashing teeth as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hips buck involuntarily at his touch and his hands find a place at them, holding with a bruising grip. He disconnects from the kiss, planting one on your chin as your chest heaves with desire.

“My sweet girl, all worried about me in your dream, hm?” The way he’s able to change his demeanor so quickly during sex is something you love about him, and your head spins as he falls back into a more dominant personality. His fingers tease into the waistband of your bottoms, dancing along the delicate skin of your hips.

“Y-yeah,” you squeak out. Jungkook takes mercy on you and slides your bottoms down, leaving you bare to his gaze and touch.

“Wanna make you feel better now.” He sits up, surprisingly, and your eyes zero in on the way his cock bobs with the movement. His legs fold and unfold as he moves, and you’re confused until you realize he's laid himself down on the extended sectional of the couch.

“C’mere baby. Want you up here.” You obey mindlessly, crawling over him so that you’re on top now. Assuming he wants you to ride him, you position yourself just above his hips, hands planted on his firm chest. An incredulous laugh punches out of him as he reaches down for you, pulling you further up his chest until you’re-

“Jungkook, no.” You gasp, in disbelief of what you now realize he’s implying. His hands splay on your thighs and his eyes sparkle.

“Uh uh, no fighting me. We both know how much you love sitting on my face, so get up here. Wanna have you in my mouth.”

Your stomach contracts because you know he’s right, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of your head.

“Kook, I just had a dream that you..died, and I don’t wanna hurt you.” Jungkook grunts at your worry, pinching at the meat of your thigh.

“Baby, I’ll be just fine. Plus, if I’m gonna go, I would love for it to be while I’m buried in your sweet little pussy.”

His candor sends a new wave of arousal through you, and you know he’s right, so you nod and shuffle your hips up to him.

“Love you so much, Kook.” He smiles at your words and promptly wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you exactly where he wanted you. His tongue immediately splits open your pussy lips as his fingers flex into your skin and hold you in place. You can feel his nose pressing against your clit, rubbing the nerves in a way that makes your eyes roll. He makes short work of licking up every bit of arousal you'd already produced, but there’s no shortage of more as he endeavors to attach his lips around your clit and suck.

Your thighs shake around his head and you can heard his satisfied moans against your pussy. You feel like every nerve inside your body is on fire, conducted by the way his tongue knows the perfect places to devour. Your orgasm builds exponentially when he licks messy circles around your clit, the sloppy sounds of his spit mixing with your juices hurdling you closer to your end. Your toes curl as he groans again, vibrations going right to your core and coaxing your orgasm out of you. You gasp, unable to stop the tightening of your thighs around his head as you cum.

Forever the champ of eating you out, Jungkook continues to lap up your orgasm until you’re genuinely worried you might be hurting him and scoot back off of him. He lets you go reluctantly, staring up at you as you go.

His face is covered in the sheen of your cum, and his eyes are so wide and admiring that you almost want to cry.

“You're so hot, baby. Perfect little pussy.” He sits up and captures you in his arms, uncaring of the way your weeping pussy gushes against him.

You kiss him, and all you can taste is you, but you still feel so pleasantly high from cumming that you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. As your senses come back you feel his cock beneath you, and despite having just cum, you feel voracious for him to be inside of you. Jungkook kisses the soft spot under your ear and sighs at the contact of your throbbing pussy on him.

“If you're ready I am, baby. Need to cum in you,” the strain in his voice is obvious and so sexy, the evidence of just how much you affect him.

You can’t resist kissing him again, sharing the flavor between your tongues as he lays you back down. Although you haven't said anything, he knows your legs are far too tired to do anything but lay down and take it, and he’s more than happy to adjust for that.

He strokes his cock a few times, spreading his precum down his shaft in a way that has your mouth watering. Your legs fall open easily, never one to deny him or delay your shared pleasure. Jungkook moans appreciatively at the gesture, running his fingers down your slit before slipping two in.

You writhe at the unexpected contact, sensitive to his touch after cumming so hard on his tongue. Although you understand and appreciate his concern of making sure you're ready for his cock, you feel more than prepared for him after your first orgasm.

“Please don't fucking tease me right now, I need you.” Jungkook arches a brow at your desperate plea, a shit eating grin sprouting as his fingers stall.

“You need me that bad, huh? Don’ even need me to stretch out your little pussy?” He knows you can handle him, but the idea of making you admit it has his cock jumping again.

Your face flames with misplaced embarrassment, knowing exactly what he wants you to admit to.

“Y-you don’ need to because I came so hard, I-I’m wet enough.” You stutter it out and his smirk widens, proud of himself for making you admit it.

“My dirty little baby.” He steals another kiss as he guides the tip of his cock to you, running it over your clit until he can't take it anymore. Jungkook presses in slowly and you can see his pretty eyes roll back as he feels your walls envelope him.

Despite how wet you were, the sheer size of his cock means there’s always a stretch, but you work through it quickly, squeezing your walls around him once he has fully sunk into you. A string of praises falls from your lips as he thrusts into you, barely holding back. His hands squeeze the flesh of your waist as he fucks you, eyes bored onto the place where you connect.

It’s all you can do to keep from squirming off of the couch in pleasure as he fucks into you with a practiced precision, finding the perfect angle and speed and using it to his advantage to work you up quickly. The sight of him over you is something you never want to be without: lower lip captured between his teeth, hair slicked back with sweat, chest heaving with his effort as his thrusts rock you up the couch cushions.

When he finally unlatches his bottom lip from between his teeth, he makes the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard, interlaced with praises that make your own chest heave.

“Shit, you feel so good, my baby. My girl made for me, perfect little pussy that’s just for me.” His hands shake noticeably as he moves them; one to press down over your stomach and keep you in place, the other finding it’s place over your clit. You can tell he’s close when you feel his cock twitch inside of you, and he doubles his efforts by circling your clit with two fingers at a speed that would make your wrist ache. Your hands scramble to grab onto his arms, leaving crescent marks behind where your nails dig into his skin.

“Right t-there, Kook.” Your eyes roll and all words abandon you as your orgasm rushes in, churning your stomach in knots of pleasure as you moan Jungkook’s name.

“Got you, baby. Right behind you.” He cums seconds after you, giving short thrusts to pump his cum as far into you as possible. You enjoy the come-down together, gripping each other closely as the world returns. You still feel a bit like your head is underwater when Jungkook gets the energy to pull out of you, but you take his hand when he offers it. One trip to the bathroom later, you’re back where you began your afternoon.

This time Jungkook’s toned body is backing your own, fingers playing with the hair that splays around you on the sheets.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You nod, turning to face him. Neither of you bother putting clothes back on before crawling into bed, and you press your bare chest against his own.

“Good.” He grins and gives you a sweet kiss. “Next time you have a bad dream you let me know.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You gonna solve every bad dream with a good fuck for the rest of our lives?”

Jungkook laughs in the way he only does around you and your heart blooms.

“Sure, if that’s what it takes. Anything for you.”

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hotchfiles · 2 months

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↪ day ten. good day's work — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [how dark the night] ❞

pairing: hotchner x reader. summary: sometimes being home safe is the only good outcome of a case. content warnings: not proofread, no gender marks i'm pretty sure. that's about it. word count: 500

Accepting the fact he can’t save everyone is the hardest part of the job to Aaron. Sometimes, most times, he can’t save everyone.

Sometimes the bad guy gets away. Sometimes not even the BAU can catch them. Getting hung up on it affects the job. Affects life.

Still, for someone who left the prosecution so he could save people before they became just part of a file, so he could catch criminals before they made more victims… Getting on a plane knowing he wasn’t able to do that was frustrating.

He made his best to try and keep team morale up, telling them what they all knew: It happens. It comes with the job. We do better next time. We keep working to catch them.

His heart tugged with every line, each step he made the decision the team would take heaving on his head as he closed his eyes trying to quiet his mind with some sleep.

It’s late when he gets home and Aaron is quiet as always, not wanting to disturb your sleep and especially not wanting to wake Jack up. The scent of the candle you chose to burn that night still lingered and it made his shoulders finally drop in a bit of relaxation.

There’s books scattered on the table and Aaron smiles with the image of you keeping up with everything new that came in your field of work, but what makes him smile more is the sea of colored markers accompanied by drawings Jack had made while working with you.

Aaron hears your steps heaving on the wood floor, those fluffy slippers Jack got you last Christmas always glued to your feet as soon as you got home and the sun set. He takes a deep breath, smelling your shampoo and all other concoctions you wore before going to bed and before he can move, your arms are around his waist, your head laid on his back.

Aaron throws his head back, touching the top of yours lightly, he rubs your arms with the utmost care and for a few minutes none of you speak.

“How was the case?” Your question fills the air and by now you know the results of a case by his mannerisms when he gets home, even if you’re not a profiler yourself.

“Not that great.” The dry chuckle he lets out is only to show he knows what you’re up to, he knows he got caught.

Your arms tighten even more around him, your way to ground him with you, to keep his mind there, “You’re here and you’re safe. To me that still counts as a good work’s day.” That's what you would always tell him. In good days he would tease you about how selfish that was. Today he just takes your fingers in his, kissing your hand.

He can’t save everyone, but at least his family is safe. At least he’s home, feeling the warmth and safety of your embrace.

Most days, that’s even more than he could ever ask.

#marchhotchness #lari march hotchness #lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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saltofmercury · 1 year

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Evening routine with könig!! Showering together - him being so so drunk on how you’re so small like a fairy to him, both helping each other with washing your bodies and hair. Slowely, calmly - showing him that there is no need to rush anywhere, help him to get used to this pampering. Later on, when könig is on his one knee in front of you and drying you with fluffy towel and you doing the same and after this you both lay down in your bed, maybe your head on his chest, you looking at him, both relaxed in this lovely bubble😭😭😭😭

He’s been gone for over five months. He’s got a huge excitement bubbling inside him, excited to go home, reset, and see you.

He’s used to quick showers, he’s usually done in eight minutes tops, but if he lingers he makes it out to be ten minutes. If he’s being honest, he used to despise showering because it felt like it was just one more thing he needed to do.

It was like his body had been on constant alert, rushing, using some god awful bar of soap that was too tacky to touch and some 3 in 1 shampoo that he figured would work. When he came out, his hair was a bit frizzy, dry, and crunchy. He smelled like pine and Irish spring, but he felt dry and tight.

Until one morning you had slipped inside the shower with him, made him enjoy the water and the temperature a little more. He was about to step out, you grabbed his hand, telling him to stay a little longer.

“It’s too crowded.”

“Oh stop it.”

You had rinsed yourself, hugged him, kissing his chest, and leading the trail of kisses down his stomach.

“Schatz…” He had begun complaining, saying that he was going to be late.

“Relax,” you turned around and started putting shampoo on your head, then bringing him closer, putting your conditioner on his head.

“I already showered”

“I know, but a little conditioner never hurts.”

You then remembered his elbows and how he was complaining that they were rough from crawling around. You took out your body scrub that smelled of eucalyptus and vanilla, rubbing it on his arms, chest, and focusing on his elbows.

Once you were all done, you gently patted him out.

"See? You're not late." You called out to him.

The entire day, he felt different. He even smelled different. Whenever he came to fidget with his hands, they felt smoother, softer to his touch. When he ran his fingers in his hair, it wasn’t dry or brittle like before. It even stayed down and didn’t stick up all over the place.

He had realized what little you can do in the shower to come out feeling and smelling wonderful.

So this is why he’s bouncing up and down on the plane, excited to come see you, and relive this moment of peace with you.

You had been sitting down waiting for his arrival mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You already knew what he wanted when he first got home so you had brought some new scents, a towel warmer, and lotion.

You can hear the footsteps outside his house, the lock clicks, he’s already dropping the weight of what he’s carrying on his body down. He sees you around the corner, running in your socks, about to leap into him. He pulls his mask off, grabs you into a deep kiss, walking you backwards towards the bathroom.

You help him undress, pulling away the black shirt he’s got on, unbuttoning the cargo pants he loves to wear. He swifty removes the t-shirt you got on, and you bend over to turn the water on. You’re running your fingers underneath the tap, adjusting the temperature before you hop in and reach out for him.

Once you guys are inside, he grabs your face and hunches over to kiss you, both hands on your face. The water is hitting both of you, rinsing away the day. You turn around to grab his new shampoo, a pricey shampoo that you picked up for him, with japanese yuzu and bergamot notes.

He bends over, you pouring the shampoo into your hands and then scratching and rubbing it gently into his scalp. You make sure to get into every spot of his red-blond hair, and behind his ears. It suds up, goes everywhere, dripping down his neck.

He complains that it’s getting to his eyes and you laugh, switching positions having him rinse off. You tenderly wipe his eyes, standing on your tiptoes to reach, remove the suds, washing away the soap towards the back of his head.

You grab his body wash, lathering it up under the water waiting on him to finish rinsing the shampoo.

You start on his shoulders, kissing along his spine, reaching forward to scrub his chest, arms, and legs.

He lets out a small sigh of relief, your small hand softly working out the tense muscles on his shoulders, letting the hot water rinse away the soap swirling down the drain.

You softly remind him that you love and miss him.

He bends down to lather you up, as you do your hair.

You two stand there, engulfed by the warmth of the shower, the hot water hits his back, melting away the hard stress of the months he was away. Kissing you softly, nuzzling his nose with yours.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap the towel around your head, as you try to grab the other one for your body, he’s got it ready, wrapping it around you, placing small kisses on your shoulders.

He takes you to the room, where you’ve taken out the lavender lotion. You put some on yourself, as he puts on his underwear, then have him sit down on the bed, where you massage the lotion into his back, neck, shoulders, and legs.

He’s telling you there’s no need, but you gentle place kisses on his neck and shoulders reassuring it’s just one more thing you want to do for him. The smell of lavender fills his nose, bringing a comforting warmth and sleepiness to him. You got down on your knees, rubbing his legs, ankles, and feet.

He gets shy, but the way you dig your small hands into his tense muscles, makes him feel so much better, makes him feel loved. You put on the cute lingerie he’s picked out, lather yourself up, and settle into bed, warmth embracing you both, as he wraps his arms around your waist.

Sleep both hovers over your eyes, he’s pushing away the hair from your face, placing kisses that your lips that he’s missed so much.

The two of you lay there, watching each other, memorizing the familiar faces that have been away for so long, just happy that you can be back.

#könig #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig x y/n #soft!könig #call of duty #request #this one was ok i think...#might come back and edit

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sidewalkchemistry · 1 year

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simple skincare tips!

🌼eat the foods that love you back. your skin is a direct mirror of your internal situation. if your digestive system is being bombarded often by foods that create a lot of wastes and residues, that does more harm than good. and so, the struggle to eliminate them will be reflected in your skin. your diet constitutes the vast majority of your skin health. change your meals to be whole food plant based (still delicious, satisfying, and exciting) & watch your skin glow and your skincare routine simplify.

🌼be conscious of what's going on your skin. the skin layers can be over-cleansed, imbalanced, and aggravated when the skin microbiome and pH are disrupted. if you wipe out the beneficial bacterial populations with harshly formulated products, you may find that you break out (i.e. harmful bacterial populations begin to thrive). use gentle, simple skin formulas such as castile soaps, natural oils & butters (i recommend jojoba oil for mostly everyone), natural soap bars, and clays. most commercial skin care products disturb the skin cells (introduce too much foreign material to the body, unsuitable pH ranges, imbalance the microbiome, etc). they sell because it's convention to buy them, the brands are well-known, and their sales pitches are enticing. but really, no cream or serum will ever be the magic potion your skin was asking for. it will only be a band-aid, at best. truly healthy skin comes from diet, and the products are just for any other necessary maintenance. if you get a pimple, you should look first to why the pimple emerged, not what treatment will remove it.

🌼keep your lymph flowing. simple ways to do this are through good lifestyle habits. things like doing exercise & sports you find fun, breathwork, dry brushing, eating lots of fruit, avoiding wearing bras & other tight clothing items, lymphatic massage/gua sha can all be helpful.

🌼focus on hydration via fresh fruits and veggies. the water within plant foods is more useable to your cells, and your skin will cease being overly oily or dry overtime (especially if you reduce/eliminate your salt & oil intake). it will also help to encourage lymphatic flow, so you can see problems like blemishes, cellulite, old scars diminish after great consistency.

🌼allow your skin to breathe. this is especially good if you spend time in stuffy (poorly ventilated) indoor environments, like offices, hospitals, planes, etc. one great way is via herbal facial steaming (i recommend it 3x a week or so). make a hot infusion of an aromatic tea, cover it and allow it to cool a few minutes, and, with closed eyes, allow the pores to open and receive the herbal medicine (this is a great time to meditate, manifest, and just feel pampered). getting more fresh air, working up a sweat, and going to a sauna are also ways to allow your skin to breathe.

🌼avoid steroid prescriptions creams at all costs. they are very deleterious to health in the long term, and they can be very painful to come off of. it's not a real fix. it's not worth hurting your kidneys & adrenals for. evaluate your diet instead. do you eat dairy? choose plant-based dairy options instead (they're simple to make yourself too). do you eat a lot of fats? try oil-free cooking methods instead (opt for sautéing with a bit of water, baking, steaming, air frying, etc). avoiding eating out as much.

🌼be aware of what you're putting in your hair as well. your shampoos, conditioner, leave-ins, gels, moisturizers, oils, serums, etc all tend to touch your face too, when your hair touches your face. if they wouldn't be good enough to put on your face, don't put them in your hair. a lot of the best skin cleansers are also suitable as shampoos. a lot of oils and butters can be used for both. plant-based gels like aloe vera or flax seed are simple to DIY, and are dual-use once again. basically, this will simplify your life.

🌼understand the water that runs through your pipes. if your shower and tap water are like most people's around the world, they aren't optimal for our skin. for example, they contain added chemicals to sanitize the water but that can prevent the proper microbiomes from developing on your skin. a weak skin microbiome is prone to skin issues. so, try to use distilled water on your face (if you're not able to get a water filter, a gallon jug at a store is affordable. they're about $1.30 USD in my area).

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allwaswell16 · 10 months

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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in July 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #52 | ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🦩 7 Up by @cherrystreet

(E, 52k, childhood friends) Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years.

🦩Darkest Before the Dawn by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(E, 50k, fashion au) Everything has a place and it must be in its place in order for him to get anything done. Which is why he grits his teeth every time when he walks into the fashion workroom and sees Louis Tomlinson’s workspace.

🦩 an ocean in my veins (you'll be diving in) by me_her_themoon / @dreamersdivin-headfirst

(E, 31k, uni au) harry and louis hate each other and niall just wants everyone to get along

🦩 When Love Takes Time by sitandadmire / @niallziam

(M, 26k, friends to lovers) Turns out Louis planned a cruise to Hawaii, just for the two of them. The problem? They've been best friends for years, and Marcel is secretly in love with him.

🦩 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k, a/b/o) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want.

🦩 what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

🦩 taken by lust’s strange inhumanity by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(E, 20k, a/b/o) The one with all the jealous snarling, awkward first kisses and one unforgettable night.

🦩 Trapezing Secret by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 10k, a/b/o) What will happen when your lazy coworker slash biggest knothead you know discovers your secret? Omega Harry doesn't get the time to ponder his answer.

🦩 The Way to My Heart by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 6k, a/b/o) Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular. The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

🦩 Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything

(M, 6k, exes to lovers) Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

🦩 On That Note by @allwaswell16

(E, 6k, a/b/o) Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building.

🦩 Write You A Song by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(G, 5k, neighbors) Harry’s new flat is great but the acoustics are even better. They’re so good in fact that his daily shower concerts start to entertain an audience besides his shampoo bottle.

🦩 Livin' In A Daydream by @lululawrence

(NR, 3k, roommates) Harry originally had thought that the sock he had pulled out was just another one of Louis’ sport socks he left balled up, but when Harry pulled the cuff out, he realized the actual sole of the sock felt… crusty.

🦩 In Time by @allwaswell16

(M, 2k, timestamp) Harry's uncertainty about their relationship began before he ever stepped foot on the plane to Amsterdam. A prequel/timestamp to the fic Bitter Ends Turn Sweet

🦩 Fingertips Putting on a Show by cherrylarry / @beelou

(E, 2k, girl direction) Harry just wants a relaxing self love session in the bathtub when she gets interrupted by a knock on her door.

🦩 Harry, That Kills People by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 2k, organized crime) If there’s one thing that Harry hates, it’s getting his clothes dirty. If there’s one other thing that Harry hates, it’s murder.

🦩 Yours and Mine by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, timestamp) Louis goes to the library with his favourite people, his boyfriend Harry and his son, Max. A Bitter Ends Turn Sweet timestamp

🦩 seven, seven by @nouies

(NR, 1k, a/b/o) “Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

🦩 Completely Oblivious by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(G, 1k, friends to lovers) an interaction with a stranger helps these two finally figure their shit out.

🦩 I'll Get You Through by @hellolovers13

(G, 1k, friendship) Louis will always pick up when Harry calls. Always.

🦩 A Cure for First Show Nerves by @haztobegood

(E, 776 words, canon) Harry calls before Louis' first show.

—Rare Pairs—

🦩 if you want it you can have it by eynap / @panye

(E, 5k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Niall and Shawn have a drunken one-night stand that turns into more than a few surprises.

🦩 a life that's lived without you by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 1k, Zayn/Liam) In all of his 116 years, Zayn has never quite felt this way about anyone. Liam is so incredibly human, in the worst and best ways.

#28th appreciation #ficrec #1dficvillage #hltracks #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource

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writergirl35 · 2 years

Text

My Boys

Bob Floyd X Female Reader

Summary: You and Bob have welcomed a son into the world. Your son just turned 11 months and Bob can’t decide who he loves more, his son, or the woman who brought him into the world.

Bob pulled into the garage of your shared home. Putting his car in park he turned off the engine. Ever since Grayson Robert Floyd was born at 3:23 PM on December 15th, every day at work seemed like a long one. But this day, in particular, dragged on. Pulling the keys from the ignition, Bob opened his door and entered your home. He padded down the hallway after slipping off his shoes, searching for you. He paused briefly, stopping to look at a picture hanging on the wall. It was the day your son was born.

Since birth, Grayson looked like his dad. He had Bob’s beautiful, round blue eyes and aquiline nose. And by two months he had even developed Bob’s sweet lopsided grin. He continued to walk through the kitchen and spotted you out the window above the sink. You and Grayson were on a blanket splayed out in the grass of your backyard. You hovered over Grayson, dropping kisses on his cheeks, tickling his sides. Grayson laughed, reaching up to grab your face. Grayson’s tiny, chubby hands held your pink cheeks, his smile lighting a spark in his father’s heart. Bob slides the back door open, making his way to you. You lift Grayson up, propping him on his feet and supporting him under his arms. “Look, Grayson!” You smiled as Bob approaches. Grayson bounces in excitement, reaching for his dad. Bob scoops him up, running a hand through Grayson’s dark blonde curls, and kissing his cheek. Bob stoops down, sitting next to you, holding Grayson in his lap. He leans in, kissing you sweetly before pulling back with a smile. “How’s my little man and my favorite girl doing?” You smile as Grayson babbles, gripping Bob’s fingers, and waving his arms up and down. “We’re good. Enjoying the nice weather.” Grayson climbs off of his dad’s lap, crawling clumsily across the blanket and grabbing his stuffed airplane. “I can’t believe how big he’s getting”. Bob says looking over at you. You nod, smoothing a hand over Grayson’s soft curls. “I know, he’s growing up so fast. I think he’s getting close to his first words.” Bob grins, as Grayson begins to babble. “Babababa…” He flaps his arms, waving his plush plane in the air. “Grayson, say mama. Mama.” You ask, turning expectantly to Grayson. “babababa…” He babbles on. Bob shoots you a mischievous grin. “Dada. Grayson, say dada.” Grayson blinks up at his father before flapping his plane around again. “Babababa.” Bob groans, shifting his body to lay next to Grayson. He props himself on an elbow, “Dada.” He drops a kiss on his son’s cheek. “Bababa.” Grayson tosses his stuffed plane across the blanket. “Hey!” You smack Bob playfully on the arm. “Mama. Grayson. Mama.” You flip onto your back, holding Grayson above you before lowering him, receiving a slobbery kiss from your son. “Baba.” “That sounded like “Dada to me,” Bob smirks, kissing your cheek. You elbow him, before passing him, Grayson. You get to your feet. “Come on dada, it’s time to clean up for dinner.”

You giggle as Grayson slams his arms down, spraying you and Bob with soapy warm water. Bob Laughs, wiping his glasses dry on his shirt. Bob scoops his hand into the water, pouring it over Grayson’s head, rinsing out the shampoo in his hair. You turn to grab the fluffy yellow towel you always wrap Grayson in after bath time. “Shoot, his towel is in the dryer.” You say, turning to Bob. He stands, wiping his wet hands on his sweatpants, “I’ll get it.” He strides out of the bathroom. “Thank you!” you call after him. You wiggle your fingers on the surface of the water causing Grayson to giggle. Your heart melted at your son’s crooked grin. It was just like his dad’s. “You know you look just like your daddy. My boys are so handsome.” You say as Grayson stares up at you with his round, blue eyes. “Baba.” He responds, reaching for the small boat floating past him. “Mama loves your dada, and you Mr. Man.” You lean over and kiss his head. “Here we go,” Bob re-enters the bathroom, holding up Grayson’s towel. “Dada.” You look at Grayson, then at Bob. “Did he just say dada?” Bob asks, kneeling down by the tub. A look of shock on his face. You grin leaning over the tub. “Grayson, who is that?” You ask, pointing to Bob. “Dada!” Grayson exclaims, slapping the water again. “Oh my gosh! Grayson!” Bob scoops your son out of the tub, wrapping him in the yellow towel before embracing him. “Dada!” You and Bob simultaneously plant kisses on Grayson’s cheeks, sandwiching him between the two of you.

@ellabellabus07 @oscarissacsslut @phoenixhalliwell

#top gun #top gun maverick #bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine

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mqverick · 7 months

Text

Waking On Air || chapter 5

It was ironic, honestly, how you managed to get back with Tom, but had the person who’d gotten under your skin eventually steer clear of you. Maverick; the daily thrill of your day, the annoying little parasite you couldn’t scratch off your body, the person who wouldn’t leave your side for a moment had been ignoring and breaking your heart for what was nearly a week.

At first, you’d barely noticed. Preoccupied with how you’d somehow managed to put your joy second for once again in order not to hurt Tom, you’d missed how Maverick would instantly change paths if he was walking the same direction as you. It began being clear, though, a couple of days later.

Like the refrain of a sappy heartbreak song, it physically burned you to come into realization with the fact that Pete Mitchell had stopped showing signs of interest in you and it had you puzzling yourself over what you’ve done wrong.

The sudden change of his behavior ended up affecting you more than your mind could possibly imagine. Your eyes drooped with sleep, skin pale as you forced yourself to walk into Viper’s office, legs and heart heavy. Sure, you weren’t stupid; you knew that all the exhaustion had ruined your performance, constantly getting called off your aircraft and aborting missions.

Part of you knew exactly what you were going to get told, word by word — but the other part chose to not expect anything. Your plane was all that could get you through miserable conditions such as the current one and you couldn’t bare to get grounded or even worse, suspended.

The words that came out of Viper’s mouth came as no surprise to you, yet still managed to make your knees weaken, uncomfortably cleaning your throat as he dismissed you. Your fingers rolled into fists, digging deep into the sides of your uniform as you bit back an entire breakdown that was hanging on from a thin thread.

You’re grounded, Lieutenant.

He’d promised it’d only be for a small amount of time, until you’d come back to your senses and would be able to perform again, but it’d cut deep through your already stretched out and bruised ego.

“Roger?” a familiar soft voice called from behind you, causing you to turn around slowly. You came face to face with a very worried-looking and confused Maverick; his brows cocked in attempt to read your stiff expression. You tried to speak to him, but found your voice dying down between chokes that accompanied tears. After glancing around reluctantly to make sure no one else was passing by, you lunged your body forward, hitting Maverick’s chest with a slight bump, burying your head in his neck and clutching your arms around his shoulders. Crestfallen, you dampened the fabric of his own uniform with your sobs, only just realizing how powerful the overstimulation you’d been holding back had gotten.

Maverick was hesitant to touch you at first. He didn’t much know what to do with himself — it was the first time you’d ever touched him as well (besides the occasional punches in his shoulders for being a jackass) — but as the lavender scent from your shampoo filled the air, his arms encircled your waist gently, holding you with so much warmth and fear at the same time; as if you were expensive china he’d be petrified to break.

His heartbeat was beating so loud that his brain was getting dizzy by the sound of his blood pumping through his veins. Having you in his embrace spoke volumes, making him melt in a puddle. It scared you to admit that your body was having an experience same to his.

The hug was tentative at first but gradually grew more secure as your sobs eventually came to an end, eyes dry and puffy. You wanted to let go of the pilot’s enveloping embrace, even though not a single muscle moved when the message was delivered to your nervous system.

“‘M sorry,” your voice was muffled by his shoulder and you finally found the courage to pull away from him and take him in, the hypnotized and sort of dumb look on his face. The corners of your lips curled into a tiny smile, which he mirrored as he unintentionally ran his hands up your back, exploring the feel of your uniform against his calloused palms, until they stopped at your shoulder blades, suddenly making him a lot jumpier than before. He quickly took a few steps back from you, causing your little grin to drop.

“I have to go,” he blurted out in a rush, almost running into a wall as he fastened his pace, walking away from you. Your heart ached as you watched him leave — the same way he’d felt when he had to watch you do the same thing to him back when you’d met with him at the cliffs.

A little sniffle, a tear escaping as you wiped it away, not knowing what to do with yourself. How had it gotten like that?

The slanting rays of the setting sun gave a warm orange tinge to the sky, as you tiredly gazed outside of your window, chin propped on your hands. The boredom was killing you slowly along with the package of unanswered questions of why Maverick was going through such a hard time with you. The phone was ringing and you were pretty sure it was your boyfriend calling you to ask if you’d like to come over to his place, but you already knew what your answer would be.

It shot arrows through your heart; having to pretend around Tom. He was such a kindhearted man and he deserved so much better than you, you just wished you had the courage to tell him.

An unexpected face popped up on your window and you jumped behind, almost hitting your head on the coffee table, hand over your fast beating heart. It was Goose, with a wide smirk on his face, snickering at your reaction. He motioned you to open the window and you did, still sort of shaking thanks to the fright he gave you.

“‘Ey, there,” he mocked in a British accent.

“Get lost, Bradshaw.”

Goose placed a hand over his heart, too, pouting in fake sadness. “Your words wound me, Lieutenant.” You rolled your eyes and slightly pushed him away, trying to hold back a laugh.

“What happened, Goose?”

“You and Mav,” he replied almost immediately, causing your eyebrows to raise in confusion. “Well, as mentioned before, you guys are my second family, aside from my baby boy and Carole, and having to watch both of you look so ridiculously miserable when you obviously both have the hots for each other kind of frustrates me.”

You cringed at the word ‘hots’, knowing your feelings for Maverick had moved far past that line. “We’ve talked about that before, Goose.”

“Yeah, I know,” he dismissed with a sad smile, placing his hand on your arm, holding you softly as he carefully caressed the fabric of your thin black shirt. “What I also know, though, is that aside from what your façade shows in public, you both have no balls to face your feelings, ergo me intervening.”

“Even if I wanted to talk to him,” you hummed quietly, looking down at your feet, “he’s been fucking avoiding me as if I’ve got leprosy.”

Goose chuckled. “I think you might be forgetting that I have his address,” he suggested, slipping a small, crumbled piece of paper into the pocket of your sweatpants, then proceeded to mess your hair up goodbye with some poor excuse of having to leave and that the decision was yours to make.

You reached into your pocket and unfolded the little paper, staring blankly at it for a moment.

Maverick was minding his own business when he heard an unexpected trail of shaky knocks on his door. It’s late, he thought, rubbing his eyes open as he walked towards the door, opening it while trying to regain consciousness from being half dozed off. “Goose, I swear to God—”

“Try again,” he heard a feminine voice chirp, his eyes suddenly wide open, pupils blown away in shock — and confusion — as he stood frozen, gaping at your frame. He looked so priceless you almost felt sorry for surprising him like that.

“Roger?” he questioned with a slight voice crack.

“Aren’t you letting me in?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.” Maverick moved aside, inviting you in as he shut his door. He was afraid that you weren’t real; that this was all part of a dream he’d wake up from feeling lightheaded again, was terrified of moving any muscle of his body that could potentially ruin the dream and make you disappear from in front of him.

“I’m sorry for showing up like that,” you apologized, looking everywhere but at him.

“It’s okay, you know I don’t mind,” his response came quick along with a sharp intake of breath. Sputtering and struggling to find the words — or even get his mind think straight for that matter — Maverick scraped a hand through his un-gelled, short hair and opened his mouth. “How did you, uh, how did you know where I live?”

You chuckled, wanting to give him the same stern-looking smirk he’d been giving you since the first time you saw him. You’d never come across through such a fidgety version of Maverick before and you were terribly tempted to give him the worst time, turn his face crimson, but you opted to be civil about it.

“Not the only one who’s got the monopoly of barging into people’s houses anymore, huh? I’d keep an eye on your title if I were you, Lieutenant Mitchell.” Maverick eased, smiling a little at your joke. He offered you a glass of water (and the leftover vanilla cake Goose had made for him in the weekend), then sat down with you on his couch. “Seriously, though, I just wanted to apologize for whatever I’ve done that’s driven you away. It’s been eating my head all week.”

Maverick shifted nervously and you bit the inside of your cheek, scared you’d hit a nerve. A long, loud sigh from both of you — and then he was looking at you straight in the eyes, fingers tangled his in dog chains.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he murmured lowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about how he lacked of that Maverick bit about him.

“Then how come you avoid me every time we’re in the same room, Pete? We’re all in the same academy, one way or another you’d eventually be forced to talk to me anyway.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?” You scrunched your nose in confusion, cocking your head to the side. Maverick turned his body to you, facing you completely. “Not to talk to you all the time? Not bother you, not be up your ass? It would make Kazansky uncomfortable.”

“For fuck’s sake,” you exhaled in exhaustion, massaging the spot between your eyebrows. Had he been that upset because of Tom? “This entire time you’re telling me that you’ve been treating me as a deadly disease because you’re suddenly oh, so kind to not mess with Tom and me?”

Maverick bunched his hands in fists and brought them up on his forehead, leaning towards his knees. “It’s not a ray of sunshine to watch you be every second of the day around him, you know.”

“He’s my boyfriend, Pete, what the hell am I supposed to do — stab him repeatedly in the chest and then leave him a note saying how he should take me out on that fancy restaurant around the corner?!” You instantly regretted the tone of voice you’d adopted, curling back into the couch until your back hit the arm. “Look, all I’m saying is that maybe you should give up on me.”

A profound emptiness opened up inside him, threatening to swallow him whole, his heart feeling as if it was getting squeezed. “I don’t want to.”

Your pupils widened, cheeks scorching under the dim lighting of Maverick’s living room. It was exactly what you’d been dreading to hear and what you prayed not to come out of his mouth at the same time — it caught you so off guard that you thought you were having a near heart attack experience. You crossed your legs, tapping your fingers on the top of your knees in prevention of grabbing his face and smashing your lips against his without thinking about the consequences.

“What do you mean you don’t want to?”

You knew precisely what he meant, yet your mind was spinning, dizzy by his words, lost in his eyes and intoxicating smell. Maverick scooted closer to you, bumping the heel of his foot against yours.

“I mean I don’t want to,” he repeated, voice lower than the first time, adopting a shy tone. There it was again; the Mitchell charm you’d missed about him, the slight teasing, the smirk, the look on his face that made you ascend. “Do you want me to give up on you?”

No, never, don’t you dare give up on me. You simply stared at him, so breathless, so out of your comfort zone, so speechless. He looked angelic and his words were getting your body to reach inhuman temperatures — you thought you’d die if he kept looking at you like that. Your lips parted, wanting to reply to him, because — god — had you been looking stupid enough standing there in front of him like a statue. Maverick grazed the tip of his fingers against yours, waiting patiently for any reaction. His thumbs traced your knuckles in a silent confession — he couldn’t let all of it out yet, it was too soon and he didn’t want to risk getting the remains his already broken heart completely shattered.

You couldn’t get any words out of your mouth, which was frankly becoming quite embarrassing. In that moment, only the two of you existed, leaving the rest of the world in a blurry fade; it was just you and Maverick and thousands of loud, yet unspoken words in between.

“Maverick,” you eventually breathed, but your voice muted when you realized how close he’d gotten, his forehead almost touching yours as he tested the waters and slowly began leaning in. Your eyelids shut instantly, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you felt hot puffs of air against your skin. Warmth pooled between your thighs, lips aching to touch his very kissable ones, but you couldn’t. A finger came up against them instead, slowing him down— but didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss on the pad of it.

You were sure you’d asphyxiate yourself by not allowing yourself to breathe normally — or at all, for that matter. You leaned your head against his, eyes still closed. “We can’t,” you whispered with a heavy heart and felt him sigh.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” was your answer, even though you yourself hadn’t had the slightest idea of what you were talking about. Not kissing him had been the hardest task you’d ever executed (suddenly losing your life in the pre-flight seemed like a sweet idea) and you hated yourself for it. You hated breaking Maverick’s heart again and again.

“Roger…”

“When I first met you,” you muttered quietly with a relaxed smile, “I thought you were the most arrogant and pompous person I’ve met.”

You heard him chuckle, the sound of his laughter jumpstarting your heart in the most beautiful way possible. “Is that so?”

“Mhm, yeah. Never thought a human with an ego bigger than his actual physical height existed. You probably proved me wrong.” You took your sweet time with finally pulling away from him, bringing your palm against his cheek.

“D’you still think that?” Maverick asked innocently, leaning towards your touch.

“Kind of.” He was everything you hated and loved. Pete Mitchell was the only person in your life that made you lose control, that had you falling into an abyss without reaching anything. “Pete?” you spoke his name softly, removing your hand from his face.

“Yeah?”

You got up from your seat, walking towards his door and opening it. Just before you were about to leave, you stopped to look at him, nervousness pulsing through your veins with every beat of your heart. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

chapter 6

tags:

@holishol

@iheqrtaustin

@lemmons1998

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lovesosweeet · 7 months

Text

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

june 7, 2016 london, england orion

Somehow, my roommates chose not to join me in London to see 5SOS again. We’d had so much fun at the Madrid show, but after Calum extended the invite to visit the band again, they all declined the offer. I didn’t like the thought of not seeing Cal at least once or twice more, so I booked my flight as soon as I could, choosing the cheapest option possible. It meant spending the night on the floor at the airport so I could catch the earliest flight today and still take the metro before it shut down at 2, but that also meant I landed pretty early on in the day.

Calum and I will have the whole day together. Well, the whole day aside from their soundcheck and other band obligations. I’ll be here with them tomorrow, too, but Calum said they’d have press for most of the day, so I’ll get to explore alone, and then after tomorrow’s show I’m tagging along to Brighton before flying back to Spain.

He’d offered to send a car to pick me up at the airport, but I declined. He tried to fight back and insist, but I felt like it was incredibly unnecessary. I can handle myself. So, once I made my way through customs, I followed the signs to the underground station and hopped on the next train that goes toward the direction of the hotel Calum said they’re staying at.

While I ride the tube, I text him.

To: calum 5sos

hi! on my way to you now. probably like 20 min!

I told him that I would be here early, so I’m hoping he’s awake.

The train is packed with commuters, so I feel extra cautious of being pickpocketed. My valuables are in my crossbody that I have in front of me, but my backpack is stuffed with clothes and makeup. I grip my phone as tightly as I can.

Calum texts me back quickly.

From: calum 5sos

hi pretty! I’m ready to go whenever you get here. can’t wait to see ya!

Suddenly I feel nervous to see him. I did my makeup on the plane and used a ton of overpriced dry shampoo I’d bought at the airport, but now I’m wondering if I look pretty enough to be hanging out with an internationally famous musician.

It’s also funny because it’s only been a few days since I last saw him, and yet, here I am, excited to see him. I’m borderline missing him, which feels wild considering I’ve only known him for about a week. I do my best to push away those kinds of feelings — this is just fun. We’re just having fun together. I’ll probably see him this trip, maybe try to see him one other time, and that’ll probably be it. I’m sure he’s got other girls who’d like to see him, and they’re only in Europe for a month and a half or so.

The rest of the ride to my final station seems to creep by slowly, my nerves just building while I stand awkwardly on the train, clutching my phone and the metal pole that’s keeping me steady.

When we get to the station, I quickly exit the train with an onslaught of other passengers. Most of them are dressed in business clothes, on their way to work. I’m wearing jean shorts and a cropped t-shirt with a linen button down on top, making me feel like I stand out. I’m casual, and I feel quite American in my outfit. My San Diego Padres baseball hat really adds to my American-ness, and I suddenly feel like I should’ve possibly rethought my outfit choice.

My hands are sweaty as I ride the escalator up to the exit. I route my way to Calum’s hotel, trying to at least know which direction to start walking in when I get to the street. Those efforts prove to be unnecessary because when I get to the street, I see Calum waiting for me.

He’s wearing his standard black pants and a pair of black Vans with a black and white striped t-shirt. He’s somewhat disguised with a pair of Raybans covering his eyes, but his height makes the grinning boy stick out to me as soon as I step off the escalator. He raises his hand in a wave when he sees me, instantly starting to walk towards me.

“Orion!” He calls out. As soon as he’s a few steps from me, Calum opens his arms wide so he can wrap me into a tight hug.

I’m somewhat stunned, truthfully, but try to hide it. I hug him back instantly, feeling safer in his grasp. He doesn’t hold onto me for too long, but I’m not sure if it’s because I step back after a few seconds in his arms or if he lets me go.

“No security?” I ask when there’s a foot or so of space between us. I look around, trying to see if there’s a guard hiding a few people away or something, but still don’t see anyone.

Calum shakes his head and smiles. “Nah, convinced Matt to let us free roam today. A trial run.”

I nod. “Got it, I’m on my best behavior.”

He laughs, throwing an arm over my shoulders. “Let’s go drop off your bag at the hotel, and we can get breakfast?” He asks as if it’s a question, even though it’s technically a sentence. “If you’re hungry, I mean.”

“I’m hungry,” I tell him. I feel his shoulders relax. “And I love breakfast.”

“I know you do,” Calum says.

He knows I love breakfast? Had I told him that? Maybe when I was drunk I mentioned it. I do tend to rant about things when I’m drunk.

“Sorry, didn’t mean that to sound creepy,” he then blurts. “I looked at like… your entire Instagram account like a creep, so maybe it should’ve sounded creepy. Sorry, now I’m showing you all my cards, I just—”

I cut him off with laughter. I’m flattered that he had scrolled through my feed. I was shocked to get the follow request, but I accepted it, assuming he’d just follow me and not ever interact with me. I figured it was a nicety. He probably follows every girl he hooks up with as some weird way to document them.

“It’s fine, I looked through yours too.” I did. I saw mostly what I expected. A bunch of stage photos, pictures with his bandmates, a few pictures with his family mixed in. I felt like I got a glimspe into who he is, beyond what I’d learnt during our day and a half together in Madrid.

“I’m flattered,” he says, chuckling.

“I mean it’s not every day I meet someone who knows Harry Styles,” I tell him. “Naturally I needed to see how close of friends you guys are.”

Calum scoffs. He turns me suddenly, onto a new street. I don’t question it and just try to keep up with his long legged pace. “I thought you weren’t a 1D fan?”

I laugh, but it comes out more as a giggle, which for some reason feels embarrassing. “I’m not, but you can’t deny that the man is dreamy.”

Calum laughs, but I’m not sure if it’s at my comment or at my awkward giggle. “I get it, you’re just pretending to like me so you can meet him.”

I’m so wrapped up in my conversation with Calum that I don’t even realize that we’re walking into an alley behind a hotel now. The only reason I realize it is because I can hear the echoes of a crowd from the other side of the building, chanting “5SOS” — it’s 7 in the morning, which is far too early for that in my opinion.

The security guard, Gus is his name, is the same one who had been in Madrid. He smiles when he sees me, or maybe when he sees Calum, or maybe it’s the combination of us. Either way, he waves his hand hello.

“Hi, Gus!” I call, offering him a smile.

“Good morning, Orion.” He remembers my name?

I look at Calum with a surprised look and find him already smiling at me. God, I like him. I smile back and mumble a quiet thank you when he opens the door to the hotel for me. We walk to the service elevator, Cal leading the way, and he presses the button for the seventh floor.

“For the record, I don’t need to meet Harry Styles. I’ve already met the coolest bassist that’s come out of Australia this decade.”

Calum rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Just this decade?”

I throw my head back with a laugh. “I don’t know enough about bassists, and especially not Australian ones, so I didn’t want to oversell you.”

His annoyance evaporates and then he’s giggling with me. The doors open to the floor, Cal holding his arm out so they don’t close on me, and then he grabs onto my hand to pull me to his room. Once the door is unlocked, he opens it for me and lets me walk in ahead of him.

“I’m probably the coolest bassist to come out of Aus in the past century,” he announces, flicking the lights on. “And the hottest.”

I purse my lips. I’d agree, but I can’t inflate his ego. He’s already here, claiming to be the hottest and coolest bassist of the century. “You can keep telling yourself that, bud.” I’m also trying to avoid appearing completely smitten with him, even though I am.

He laughs again. “See, I like how you knock me down.”

I drop my backpack onto the armchair in the corner of the room, next to his open suitcase, messily piled with clothes and a few packs of cigarettes and then I hold my hand out to him. “I’ll pull you back up, too.”

“My dream girl.”

I do my best to ignore the sudden flutter in my chest, settling on smiling cheesily at him.

It’s just a fling, I tell myself. I need to keep my expectations low.

“You said there’d be breakfast?” I ask.

Calum’s expression turns unreadable, but his eyes are still kind and sparkling, so I don’t worry about it. “With me, there will always be breakfast.”

My dream boy, I think.

–

After a few hours of roaming London with Calum, I’ve fallen in love with the city. Despite it being a massive city, something about it all feels quaint… in a dirty, gloomy, stinky kind of way. My only request is that we go on the Eye, which he manages to get us on for free by taking a selfie with the girl at the ticket counter.

He and I also take a selfie with the view at the top. It’s our first picture together, and it might end up being the only photo of us together. I decide it’s a sweet memento to hold onto of this brief study abroad adventure. I haven’t told my moms yet that I’ve decided to take a weekend trip to London to visit a boy, but maybe someday I’ll show them this photo and they can understand why I made the choice to get on a plane to see his show.

We’re making our way to the venue now, the O2. He’s trying to be chill about it, but I can tell Calum is both stoked and incredibly nervous. I think it’s their first time headlining, but I’m not completely sure, and Cal seems too out of it to answer if I did ask. We’re on a train — I have no idea how he managed to convince Matt that he can take a train to the venue without a security guard, but again, not going to ask. He’s drumming his hands on his thighs in a pattern nervously, looking straight ahead of him at the blurry view outside the window.

I grab his left hand in both of mine, steadying it. He stops his tapping and whispers a quiet ‘sorry’ to me. In response, I just squeeze his hand tightly.

When I look away from his face, I face forward at the blurry view too. The train stops at a station, and I look down at the people sitting in front of me, which I quickly regret. A girl is sitting directly across from us wearing a 5 Seconds of Summer t-shirt and wide, shocked eyes while she stares at us.

My eyes mirror hers then, wide and nervous. I let go of Calum’s hand quickly and stand up, moving to his other side and holding onto a metal pole instead of holding his hand. Calum looks startled when he stares up at me.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his forehead wrinkling with concern.

I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just…” I sigh, trailing off. “There’s a fan, across from you,” I whisper to him as quietly as I can. I feel incredibly self-conscious now, and I don’t want Calum to be so clearly seen with me. I know he’s said — a few times now — that he doesn’t mind being seen with me, but I don’t know how true that can really be. Female fan bases are incredibly powerful and a wonderful thing, but they’re not exactly known for being welcoming or kind to the women seen with their favorite men.

His eyes flit to behind me, up to me, and back behind me. He looks back up at me again. “Just a sec.”

Calum then stands up, walking the handful of steps over to the fan. I don’t watch, but I’m sure she’s peeing her pants. “Hi, I’m Calum,” I hear him say.

I think he sits down next to her, but I’m too scared to look.

“I know,” she squeaks out.

“Do you want to take a picture?”

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to bother you.”

“Nah, of course you’re not bothering me,” he says in his normal kind voice. “Here, want me to take it?”

They’re quiet for a moment, taking their pictures, I’m guessing.

The intercom then announces that we’ve gotten to our destination. I turn around then, both Calum and his fan standing up as well. Calum grins at me and holds out his hand for me to take. Instead of taking it, I clasp mine together and just start walking off the train. I just try to avoid the gaze of the fan and walk quickly, following the signs for the exit.

When I make it to the street, I turn around, finding Calum struggling to catch up to me. He looks confused.

“What was that?” He asks. He’s laughing slightly, but his eyebrow is still quirked.

“Sorry, I just…” I don’t know how to finish my sentence. I feel my forehead wrinkle with anxiety. I don’t know how to explain it to him.

His eyes soften and his expression returns to a slightly more neutral one. I think he’s willing to drop it, so I take my chance and run with it.

“Which way are we going? I don’t want you to be late.”

Calum nods, pulling his phone out to check the directions. “This way,” he says, and we start walking.

As we walk, I look around at the crowd around us. There is a sea of people wearing flannels, black clothes, and 5 Seconds of Summer merch. They all seem too busy with whatever they’re doing, and I don’t see any eyes on Calum, so I take advantage of our chance to camouflage him. I take my hat off and stop, stand in front of him, and put my hat on his head. I grab his sunglasses from where he has them hanging on his shirt and hold them in front of his face.

He chuckles, putting on the glasses.

“No one will ever know it’s you. You’re unrecognizable.”

“Am I allowed to hold your hand in incognito mode?”

I’ve let him hold my hand all day, and he’s kissed me in public, so I don’t know that I should really be so weird about it now. It’s just the eyes boring into me at such a close proximity. I feel watched and judged, and I haven’t even done anything wrong.

“Maybe another time,” I say quietly. I feel guilty. I want him to hold my hand, but I don’t want an army of haters to follow me around for holding a guy’s hand for a few minutes.

We walk in silence, and I’m acutely aware to the presence of Calum’s hand on the small of my back while he guides me to the unmarked side of the building where I assume Matt said to meet him. We pass a handful of security guards, which Calum takes off his sunglasses for so they can see his face. They all just nod as we walk by.

As soon as we’re out of the view of the crowds of fans, I grab Calum’s hand again.

“It just feels very… smothering,” I say while we walk. “To have all of those eyes on me for just existing in your presence.”

“I’m sorry,” Calum says. “You don’t have to do anything you want to do, and that applies to far more than just holding hands.”

I squeeze his hand gently. “I know. I just don’t want you to get any negative backlash for holding some random girl’s hand.”

Calum squeezes my hand back. “I think I can handle it.” He gives me a jokingly cocky smile.

We walk into the back door of the arena, which, as we walked around it, is absolutely massive. So many people will be here tonight, and I get to be backstage? It’s somewhat unbelievable.

As soon as we’re inside, I can hear the hoots and hollers of the rest of Calum’s band. I got to meet them for a bit back in Madrid. They’re all very nice, but very loud and rowdy. Which, to be fair, makes sense considering they’re all roughly 20 years old and famous and somewhat rich. They can kind of do whatever they want.

“Has anyone seen Calum?” I hear one of them ask from some distance away. I don’t know their voices well enough to know which one it was and I don’t know exactly where they are. I’m just following Calum’s lead.

“He’s with that girl, Orion, today, remember?” Another one says.

“Oh! Right,” the first one replies. “She’s—“

They stop talking as Calum and I enter the room, and I am glad I don’t get to know how that sentence is going to end. I don’t think I want to know.

“Orion!” The blonde one, Luke, calls out when he sees us. “You made it!”

I smile at him and he’s running over to me, wrapping me into a tight hug. “Hi, nice to see you again.” I’m still tethered to Calum with my hand in his. I’d let his hand go but he’s got a tight grip on mine.

“Pssh, no need to sound so formal,” Luke says, letting me go.

“It is nice to see you again!” I argue.

Michael and Ashton also come over to give me hugs.

“Did you guys have fun today? Cal told us all about his plans,” Ashton says, looking back and forth between Calum and me.

I nod, smiling up at Cal. “Yeah, it was great.”

“It’s a miracle you guys are back on time. Calum is known for getting lost,” Michael tells me and laughs while Calum turns slightly pink.

Luke throws an arm around Calum’s neck, yanking him towards him. “Y’know how people have ‘Find My iPhone’? We need ‘Find My Calum.’”

“Well, if he’s with me I promise to get him where he needs to be on time.”

“I knew I liked you,” Matt dryly says from across the room. It’s probably the nicest thing the man has ever said because all of the guys look awestruck from the comment.

“C’mon, let’s sit down. We’ve got some time before soundcheck.” Calum pulls me toward the black sectional in the corner of the room. He flops onto it, kicking his feet up on the coffee table littered with empty beer bottles, Red Bull cans, solo cups, and a half empty bottle of vodka.

I don’t flop onto the couch, but I do sit next to him, letting him wrap an arm around me so I’m pressed into his side. It’s nice to be this close to him.

“Do you guys want a drink? We’ve got beer here but there’s other stuff they can grab for us if you want it.” Ashton calls out to us while bending over a cooler.

“I’ll do a beer!” I yell over to him and he nods, reaching into the cooler.

“Same, thanks, Ash!”

Luke jumps over the back of the couch to join us, but he’s so lanky that he ends up knocking over some of the bottles and cups on the table with the flailing of his limbs flying through the area. What looks like mystery liquid pools on the floor, some combination of beer, vodka, Red Bull, and some mysterious blue liquid.

“Seriously, Luke?!” Ashton yells. He’s laughing, holding three bottles of Stella Artois in his hands. He gives two to Calum, who hands one to me.

“This is what happens when you let me take four shots of vodka and shotgun a Red Bull at 2 in the afternoon!”

Jesus, I think. I know they’re used to partying and Luke isn’t exactly a small person, but still. Luke is off the couch again, walking around the room. He returns with a large handful of paper towels to clean up his mess. While Luke mops up the traces of beer and Red Bull from the table and the floor, Michael and Ashton join us on the couch, still snickering about Luke’s clumsiness.

I set my beer on the table and decide to help prevent anything else of the sort from happening again, so I start stacking up the solo cups and grab as many cans and bottles as I can hold. I meet Luke at the trash can to drop them in after his soaked paper towels, and he gives me a puzzled look.

“What are you doing?” Luke asks with a chuckle.

“I just thought it would prevent future spills,” I defend myself, going back to the couch to collect the rest, but Calum followed my lead and grabbed what was left.

“It wasn’t your mess to clean, but thank you,” Luke says and he gives me a bright, genuine smile.

When we sit back on the couch, Luke manages to put his feet up on the coffee table without spilling things, and we can all relax for a minute. Calum’s arm is back around me, and I take a few sips from my beer. All of the boys, aside from Cal, are tapping around on their phones. I try to decide if I want to talk to them or just whisper to Calum, which sounds kind of awkward, so I clear my throat.

“What did you guys do today?” I ask.

They all look up at their phones and at each other, surprise written on their faces.

“Not much, really,” Ash says, shrugging. “Got lunch at a place near where we used to live, reliving the glory days.”

“You guys used to live here?” They’re from Australia and they’ve toured a lot in the last few years. When did they live in London? Calum hadn’t mentioned it at all.

“Yeah, not for too long. Before the One Direction era.” Ashton smiles, amused by my surprised expression.

They had to have been babies then but still moved all the way to London for their careers. I can’t imagine my family being OK with shipping me across the world at that age, but I guess it must just be a testament to just how special and talented the four of them are. They were born for this life. Their parents must have known it.

“Anywhere else you’ve lived besides Australia, London, and LA?” I ask. I direct the question at Calum, even though he’s not the one saying anything.

“Cal almost moved to Brazil,” Ashton answers, making Calum shoot him a glare.

I raise my eyebrows. “Brazil?”

Calum flushes pink and avoids my gaze. “Yeah, but it didn’t happen.”

“Well, we moved to London because he didn’t move to Brazil, basically,” Ashton clarifies.

“What the hell was in Brazil?” I ask through slight laughter.

“Football,” Calum replies, the moniker supposedly enough information to explain the whole thing.

“Man, you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Michael asks. He looks incredibly amused and he’s giggling after his question.

“Oi, Mike, be nice,” Ashton scolds while whacking Michael’s head softly.

“Soccer was in Brazil?” I ask Calum, trying to understand the bigger picture.

“Yeah, I went for some training,” he says. “Was supposed to go back, but decided I’d rather be in a band with these losers instead of playing footy.”

I look around the room at the rest of them, trying to see if any of them care to clarify. He was going to move to Brazil for soccer… like, to play professionally? I go to ask another question, but then a loud group of people walk in, demanding all of our attention.

They all look vaguely familiar, probably because I’ve seen pictures of at least a few of them on Calum’s Instagram. Cal’s bandmates all stand up and greet the crowd, embracing them, making a lot of noise, but Calum stays seated right next to me.

“Do you need to go say hi to them?” I ask. When I look at him, I find he’s staring at me.

“No, I was with most of them last night,” he shrugs.

I nod, glancing quickly back over at the people. The other three boys are totally swallowed by the mass of their friends. I look back to Cal and he’s inched his face closer to mine.

“I was supposed to go pro,” he says quietly. “With soccer, I mean. My parents were pissed when I told them I wanted to do this instead.”

“I’m sure they’re happy with the decision now.”

He grins, leaning a few inches forward so he can kiss me. It’s swift and short, but it’s still as sweet as can be. “Are you always like this?”

I furrow my brow. “Like what?”

“Always making the person you’re talking to feel like the most important person in the room.”

Then it’s my turn to blush. My cheeks get hot and I look away from Calum nervously. I try to always include people and ask questions, but I know sometimes it doesn’t come off well and it seems like I’m being annoying. It’s a relief that Calum thinks positively of my conversational habits.

“I like learning about you,” I confess. “And the rest of them. You’re all fun.”

Calum nods and then kisses me again. “Learning about you might just be my new favorite thing.”

My heart soars and I have to look away. If I look into his eyes, I’ll be a goner. I’ll be totally obsessed with this guy. He’s saying and doing all of the right things to get me to like him, and I have to protect myself. This is just temporary, while they’re touring Europe.

“Who are all those people?” I ask him, looking down at my lap.

He sighs. “It’s a mix of some of our music friends from LA, a few people we knew when we lived here, uh… oh, Mike’s girlfriend, Crystal. She’s the one with purple hair. There’s a girl Luke’s dating here, too.” Calum leans closer, so his mouth is by my ear. “But none of us like her,” he whispers.

I laugh slightly, but since I don’t know the girl I don’t want to base my opinions on just what Calum has said. “Which one is she?”

Cal laughs somewhat bitterly. “Don’t worry, you’ll know.”

I look over at the group of people and try to find Crystal and this other girl. Crystal I spot easily since, like Calum had mentioned, she has purple hair. She’s tall and pretty, with a sweet smile and light eyes, talking to Michael and another couple of guys. One I recognize as one of the members of the opening act. Then I look to Luke and find a tall girl with dark hair draped over him while he talks to a few of the other people. Got it. That’s the one that��s dating him. She’s not looking at any of the people huddled with, just clinging to Luke and standing there.

When I look back to Crystal to try to get a better look at her, she’s looking at me. Michael is saying something to her, and when she notices me looking her way, she smiles and waves. I smile and wave back awkwardly. Crystal then turns to Michael, puts a hand on his arm, and says something to him quickly before she walks over to the couch, sitting a few feet away from Cal and me and still smiling.

“Hi! I’m Crystal,” she says.

“Oh, hi! I’m Orion.”

Crystal smiles. “Oh, I know. This one won’t stop blabbing on about you and that club. What was it called again?” She directs the question to Calum, who looks embarrassed by her comment.

“Space Monkey,” I say for him. “My roommate’s girlfriend is a bartender there.”

She nods. “Such a weird name. Sorry, I would’ve said hi at the Madrid show, but wasn’t sure if it would have been overwhelming.”

I look to Calum, who hadn’t mentioned that there were other guests at the Madrid show. We only hung out with the band itself and my roommates. After the show, Calum and I went back to his hotel and my roommates went out with the band. None of them really remembered much the next morning, but they did say they had a fun time.

Crystal seems to know what I’m thinking and explains everything for Calum. “We hung out in the VIP viewing area that night, and when we went out after, I did get to meet your roommates. They were all so sweet, but we were all pretty wasted, so not sure if they remember it.”

“Sorry, I should’ve mentioned you could hang in the VIP section,” Calum apologizes. “I figured you’d prefer the pit.”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah, I do prefer the pit, but just feel bad if we kept you guys out of the backstage area that evening.”

Crystal shakes her head. “No, you were totally fine! We just went out for dinner before the show.”

I just nod. I didn’t realize they all had such a large entourage.

“I’m glad we get to meet you this time,” Crystal adds, still smiling very kindly at me. “Is this your first time to London?”

Calum has his arm around me and is lightly tracing shapes into my side and I’m at ease with his presence. Crystal isn’t scary or anything, but she seems eons cooler than I’ll ever be and she’s far prettier than I am. She also just seems to have it all together. I’m trying to make a good first impression.

“It is,” I answer. “I love it. Yours?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’ve been a few times, but I love it too. Anyway, I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys, just wanted to pop over and say hi. Come find me during soundcheck if you want someone to hang out with.”

I smile at her graciously. “Thank you, I probably will.”

Crystal gets up then and walks back over to Michael, who greets her by wrapping an arm around her waist while they pick up their conversation with their friends. The whole lot of them seem to mesh together like they’ve spent a lot of time with each other. It’s just crazy because there are so many of them.

“Wait, doesn’t your sister live in London?” I ask suddenly, realizing Calum’s sister doesn’t seem to be in the crowd. I look back at him and he giggles.

“She does, but she’s in LA right now.”

I sigh with relief. Meeting all these random people is a lot, but meeting Calum’s sister would be even more intense. She’s family. She’s not someone you introduce to a girl you met at a nightclub a few days prior that you hooked up with and invited to another show.

“What’s she like?” I ask. Calum smiles at the question, a light appearing in his brown eyes.

“She’s amazing. An incredible songwriter and singer. She’s kind, and she’s like a big sister to all of us, really. She’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mali-Koa, but we just call her Mali.”

I look down at his arm, the name familiar because of the tattoo there. I trace the outline of the bird. “Like your tattoo.”

He nods. “Yes, like my tattoo,” he says. “Do you have siblings?”

I grin, instantly seizing my chance to show him pictures of my brother and getting my phone out. “I have a little brother. He’s four. His name is Eridanus, but we just call him Eri. He’s the sweetest boy ever.”

I pass Calum my phone with the album of photos with Eri and me lighting up the screen. He scrolls through, stopping at the one where Eri smeared brownie batter on my face and we both were laughing uncontrollably.

“You guys are cute,” Cal comments, handing my phone back.

“Boys, stage in 5!” Matt appears out of nowhere and disrupts the entire room’s conversations.

There’s a collective groan and Calum downs most of his beer quickly before he kisses my cheek, saying he’s gotta use the bathroom and will see me after soundcheck.

“You’ll be okay back here, right? You can also come watch, but it’s usually pretty boring. Or I can give you some cash if you want to go grab a coffee nearby or something?”

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him. He gives me a grin before he runs off.

I decide to take Crystal up on her offer and make my way over to her. She lights up as I approach her, her smile widening.

“Can I hang out with you for a bit?” I ask.

“Of course,” she says. “Here, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Crystal guides me through the group like I’m a show pony. I try to remember everyone’s names but it’s a total lost cause. Everyone is pretty nice, but some are more interested in meeting me than others. I don’t blame them — I’m sure there’s a fairly consistent rotation of people coming through this group in my shoes. It might not be worth trying to really connect with girls like me.

After I’ve met everyone, she shows me where the bathroom is and where I can get food if I’m hungry. Then, we head to the side of the stage so we can watch soundcheck. She takes me to Calum’s side of the stage instead of Michael’s, saying she sees it almost every night, so missing it this once isn’t that big of a deal. He looks surprised, but pleasantly, when he notices us, waving at me. I give him a thumbs up.

The soundcheck lasts for about an hour, and they play a few songs that they didn’t play at the Madrid show. I’ve tried to study their discography over the past few days, but I haven’t been able to learn everything yet, so I don’t know which songs are which. When I get a glimpse of Crystal’s face while we watch, she looks so proud.

“How long have you guys been together?” I ask her as we walk back to the dressing room.

Crystal laughs. “We’ve been friends for a while, but officially together for about 6 months.”

“So you’re used to… all this? By now?”

She laughs again and shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s something you ever get used to.”

I’m opening my second bottle of beer when the boys come backstage again, Calum coming straight to me. Crystal winks at me when he approaches and ducks away to catch up with Michael. I spin around to face Calum.

“You don’t have to come straight to me, you know,” I tell him. He’s taking a few gulps of his own fresh beer.

“You’re my guest,” he defends. “I’m not just gonna leave you hanging.”

I roll my eyes. “I can fend for myself.”

Calum laughs quietly. “Trust me, I know you can.”

I raise an eyebrow at him and take a swig of my beer. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe that you moved to a country you’ve never been to alone? You navigated two international airports alone and the transit systems? Hell, Matt likes you. That’s something.”

“It’s not that hard. You just follow signs.”

Now Calum rolls his eyes. “Let me talk you up, please.”

I bite my tongue, holding back on making a snarky comment. Instead, I do my best to smile at him somewhat sweetly. “Fine.”

He kisses me again then and when he pulls back he grabs my hand in his, pulling me away from the mass of people and out the door. Once outside, he turns us around a corner so we’re away from the bodyguards and crew. As soon as we’re out of everyone’s sight, he grabs my hips and gently pushes me against the cinder block wall with his beer bottle pressed against my side.

Calum grazes his lips against mine, hovering without making full contact. I take matters into my own hands and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him down and kiss him, but my beer bottle, slick with condensation, slips out of my hand and crashes onto the pavement, shattering.

“Shit!”

Calum falls into a fit of laughter, stepping back to assess the mess I’ve just made. “What is it with you and spilling drinks?!”