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highvern · 3 months

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Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them.

So you go as late as possible.

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone.

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial.

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.”

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch.

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back.

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is.

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat?

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week.

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips.

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit.

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary.

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt.

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!”

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.”

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.”

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s.

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up.

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this.

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.”

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?”

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold.

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck.

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth.

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.”

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager.

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half.

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case.

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

#svthub #ksmutsociety #kvanity #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #🫡 highvern

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rafesfavgirl · 1 month

Text

i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back, i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart. "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia

#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #sad rafe #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst

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feyhunter78 · 1 year

Text

Pink Pastels Pt 5

Description: You're walking home, alone, at night, because this is a spiderman fic and we have to have at least one of these Warning! Reader is attacked, like shoved and cursed at but nothing happens bc Miguel obvi saves the day

Pt 6

It’s dumb, you know, a dumb dangerous idea to walk home alone, at night, but you just couldn’t stay at Todd’s anymore, and you left your car at your apartment. It was supposed to be a romantic evening, you got all dressed up, he took you to a nice restaurant, you were laughing, chatting, and he even seemed to be drinking less.

But then you got back to his, and it all went downhill. He convinced you to have one more drink, then he’d take you home, swearing up and down he was good to drive. He was not good to drive, in fact, the only thing he was good for was screaming at you for flirting with the waiter. The waiter, who was clearly gay and more into Todd than you.

You were not going to let a man scream at you, especially not one who claimed to love you, so you left. You felt proud of yourself for not engaging and keeping your head on straight, but now you were walking home alone in the dark, arms wrapped around you to keep yourself warm.

The moon and dim streetlights were your only sources of light, the street empty as the autumn winds rushed through the high rises, a forest of cinder block and cement, darkened windows like predatory eyes following your every step.

“Hey pretty lady, where you goin?” A voice called out from the shadows.

You kept your eyes forward, walking faster.

Suddenly, you felt someone grab your hair and yank you back, pain shooting through your scalp. “Bitch, I was talking to you.”

“I’m just going home, please, I don’t want any trouble.” You said evenly, trying to stay calm.

The man tsks and pulls you closer, tightening his grip on your hair.

Tears prick at your eyes, and you struggle against him. “Please, I’m a teacher, I don’t have any money.”

You feel a wet tongue drag up your neck, and you fight the urge to vomit. “A teacher huh? Always wanted to fuck my teachers, but they were stuck up bitches like you, never gave me the time of day.”

He shoved you back against the brick wall of the alley, and you tried to blink back your tears. “Please don’t, please, I just want to go home.” You plead, hands shaking, your heartbeat in your throat.

His face is partially hidden in the shadows, but you can see his wicked grin, the foam gathered at the edge of his lips. “It’s too late for that now.”

You can’t stop the tears from falling, as you struggle against him trying to catch his foot with your stiletto heel, it hits driving into his shoe, but then it snaps, and you’re left off balance.

“Stop fucking moving, you bi—” He’s cut off, his hands ripped from you as he’s slammed into the wall in front of you. The resounding crack of his bones is followed by a scream, a blur of motion, red and blue, and then…nothing.

You’re alone in the alley, tear-stained face, body trembling, your scalp tender from his harsh grip, but you’re alone.

There’s a soft sound from beside you, and you dart back, arms thrown out to protect yourself.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

There standing before you, towering over you, is Spiderman.

“I don’t, I—” You dissolve into tears, covering your face with your hands. This is too much, first the fight with Todd, then the alley creep and now Spiderman? You’re definitely about to have a panic attack.

He approaches you cautiously, his hands held out in a pacifying motion until they land gently on your shoulders. “You’re safe now, he’s gone. I promise.”

He’s so warm, and his hands are so big, his thumbs gently caressing your skin, a repetitive back and forth motion that you focus on as you slow your breathing.

“Thank you.” You manage to choke out through your tears, looking up at the masked figure.

His eyes dilate and expand as they take you in, an almost dizzying thing to watch. “Why are you out here alone?”

You sniffle and shrug, feeling stupid. Why didn’t you call a cab or just suck it up and stay at Todd’s? Why did you risk it? “I got in a fight with my boyfriend.”

He makes a low sound of sympathy, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Why don’t I escort you home? Just to make sure you’re safe.”

“My shoe is broken.” You say pitifully, a fresh wave of tears appearing. “They were my favorite and now ones broken.”

“I’ll carry you, just hold on tight.” He says, scooping you up into his arms, then you’re being flung into the air.

You scream, clinging to him for dear life, burying your face in his broad chest, just barely managing to give him your address before another scream rips from your throat.

Finally, he sets you down on the front steps of your apartment building, your arms like a vice grip around him.

“No offense, but I hope I never have to experience that again.” You tell him as you untangle yourself from him.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” It sounds like he’s smiling, but you can’t tell under the mask.

“Well, again, thank you, I don’t know what would’v—” Another wave of tears surges forth and your tongue feels heavy, your body still trembling as you search in your purse for your keys.

“You’re safe, he’s gone, go inside and get some rest.” Spiderman gently orders, brushing your hair back from your face, his gloved fingers lingering along the curve of your cheek, catching your tears as they fall.

“I will, thank you.” You whisper, giving him one last look before disappearing into your building.

You’re watching the news the next morning and see reports of a wild animal attack downtown. The same section of town you were in last night. A chill runs down your spine, and you switch off the TV, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

As you head out the lobby doors, one of the front desk girls calls out to you, a shoebox in hand.

You open the box in your car. It’s your shoes, well not your shoes, you left the broken one in the alley, the other you threw in the trash. These are a brand-new pair, same color, design, and size. As you pull them out, a card flutters into your lap.

New shoes, maybe get a new boyfriend with them to avoid any more nighttime incidents. -Spiderman

You laugh at that, tracing the letters of his name, a fluttering in your stomach at the memory of his toned body wrapped around you, of his raw strength as he quite literally threw your attacker into a brick wall. You slip the note into your purse and change into your new shoes, feeling strangely protected with them on. A placebo effect, you’re sure.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #spider man 2099 #atsv miguel #meg's writing #Miguel's pastels

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kingdaddydaichi · 2 years

Text

Need a quick break from writing for Daichi. Let me get this out of my system then I'll go write another 10k words for my King Daddy...

k. bokuto x reader (fem)

nsfw. mdni. size kink.

I just KNOW Bokuto has a size kink! I’ve always hc’d that he likes short girls. And I don’t mean just girls who are shorter than him bc that’s…well pretty much all of them. I’m talking about girls who are like 5’4” or less. The closer to 5’0” the better in his book.

Bo thinks it’s the cutest thing when you tug on shirt and pout up at him when you want to give him a kiss.

His heart swoons when he leans down to kiss you and you stand on your tippy toes bc it shows him that you’re doing your best to meet him halfway.

The first time y’all are at a concert together and Bo can see over everyone’s heads, and he notices you standing on your tip-toes, craning your neck this way and that trying to see over people’s shoulders. Then he squats down so you can sit on his shoulders with the back of his neck between your legs. And when he slowly stands up to give you a better view, your eyes light up and you're like Princess Jasmine when she sings 🎶 IT’S A WHOLE NEW WORRRRLD 🎶 “so THIS is what the world looks like from almost 9 feet up!”

In typical himbo fashion, Bo has been known to scan the area wherever y’all are, looking for you and when he calls your name, you flatly say, “down here, Bo.” And he looks down while the biggest grin graces his sweet face bc he’s just so happy he found you. “Hey, baby! I thought I lost you there for a second!”

When he’s hitting it from behind, it turns Bo on to no end to be able to hunch all the way over you and give you little love bites on the back of your neck. He can kiss you without straining with his arms right next to yours, your fingers interlaced together. It makes his cock throb inside you when you moan in his mouth, his big hands pressing yours into the mattress while he slaps his strong, wet hips against your ass.

Missionary is a little awkward with Bo because your face is level with his chest, but it does provide the perfect opportunity to tease his nipples with your tongue. Mans has the most sensitive nips so when you lick and gently nip at them, Bo's pretty golden eyes roll back while his whole body shudders with pleasure. But he does try his best to kiss you while he's making love to you. You're making him feel so amazing all over, he doesn't even notice the discomfort in his back from forcing his spine to arch into an unnatural position sksskkksss. Then again, his back is pretty damn flexible. Have you seen the way it curves when he goes for a spike? 👁👄👁

Leaves you breathless when he's about to cum bc he throws his weight against you, fucking into you harder. He just doesn't know his own strength? But you don't mind bc the grunts and groans that leave this man's lips when he's about to bust a fat nut inside you give you life, and you swear you don't need to breathe anyway.

Is there anything sexier than making a brick shithouse of a man whimper your name when your orgasm hits and your tight pussy clamps down on his monstrous cock? No. No, there isn't.

Let me tell you, getting railed against the wall by Bo is a religious experience. The way he's effortlessly got your relatively tiny body pinned against the wall with your legs dangling over his forearms? His cock hitting spots that it just won't reach in any other position? His long fingers squishing into the fat of your ass as he guides you up and down all 9 inches of his slippery dick. And you're babbling between whimpers of his name while he presses his forehead to yours and grunts, "I'm so in love with you, baby owl. Always gonna take good care of you and treat you right," the force of his thrusts audible in his needy voice as he desperately tries to fuck all his love into you. He'll have both of you seeing the promised land. 🙏

There. I feel better now. This list is by no means exhaustive, but at least I got some of it off my chest. Thanks for listening.

tagging my fellow bokuhoes: @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @chaoskrakenuwu @crystal-lilac

bokuto mlist | haikyuu mlist

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iprefertheterminsane · 4 months

Note

Ok i'm a lil bit familiar w/ some of your WIPS here but the Sandman Fishbowl WIP is making me 👀👀 Can I ask about that, pls? 💗

ITS LITERALLY ONE OF THE FIRST SANDMAN FICS I EVER WROTE i DID share with you 😭😭😭 this was back whem Fishbowl Fics were still all the rage but i left it behind like 3 chapters in and forgot about it and now nobody is doing fishbowl fics anymore 😔😔😔😔. Basically Hob saves Dream from the Fishbowl and lives with Hob for a little after bc Hob manages to persuade they look for the tools human style. Its very similar to softest punk's Shelter except obviously softest punk actually published it and did it a whole lot better than I ever could. Anyway heres a snippet;

(...)

Through the ringing of his ears, something speaks.

It resonates through the very bricks of the manor, and it trembles from it. It is from deep within the soul, of the mind, velvet seduction of a nightmare.

(It is a voice Hob knows well.)

"Roderick Burgess."

It echoes from everywhere, quiet and earth-shaking, from nowhere at all. Hob shakes his head, rapid, like a dog shaking rain off his coat.

"Do you know what you have done?"

I'm bleeding, Hob registers dimly, hands aching from torn open knuckles and peppered bits of glass, dusting his cheeks, his palms, the cold slick of the wall the blast had pushed him against. He uses it as leverage, hauling himself upwards.

"For your monstrous greed, and petty arrogance, lives have been lost, and innocents have suffered."

The worst of the shrapnel had exploded forwards, in the direction of the gate, well away from Hob's angle of safety. The heavy mist had spread, spread, spread, and the manor is dead silent.

Burgess Junior is slumped against the wall, motionless save-Hob notices with surprise-the shaky movements of his chest.

Hob finds them.

"No," cries Roderick Burgess, perched on his knees as Johanna Constantine had been in their pub, in 1789. His eyes are fogged white, unnatural, and he twitches violently from visions he cannot escape. "No, no, no, Randall, please-my son, my boy-,"

"You shall live as you had wished, Roderick Burgess."

The Stranger says, standing with an outstretched hand, stance straight and sure, and his face doused in shadows. Inhuman. The order is made in finality. His lips move, but only barely.

"And you shall beg for death."

With the sullen proclamation, the Stranger lowers his hand, and with it, it seems, the last of his strength.

Hob watches as he collapses within himself, like an imposing tower finally reduced to rubble to reveal its cracked foundations at last. He moves without thinking, and catches his Stranger before he hits the ground, gathering him into his lap. The air is no longer so deathly cold as it had been before, but his Stranger shivers still. His greatcoat had been taken from him, but Hob takes off his own shirt to cover him despite his protests, and urges him to stand.

"We need to get out of here," Hob tells him. "It's dawn soon, and the cops might be here any moment."

"My tools," the Stranger insists. "They were taken from me."

Hob is trying to figure out a gentle way to press that they are surrounded by dead bodies, a writhing old man and a quiet party, before he hears it again; familiar bird trills.

The Stranger perks, head whipping to turn towards the entrance.

"Jessamy."

Before Hob could feel bitter from the reverential tone used for an unfamiliar woman's name, the large white-breasted raven finds them, and Hob almost startles. In his lap, his Stranger places a hand to his chest, and Hob calms despite himself.

The raven flutters nervously, but decides, finally, to land on the floor by Hob's knee. She titters with worry, bumping against his Stranger's outstretched palm, and he practically slumps further from relief.

"Jessamy," Hob mutters. "She's yours?"

The Stranger doesn't answer, turning his head to bury his face in his chest instead, body shaking still, from exhaustion, anger, or the cold, perhaps even all three at once. He doesn't try to get him to stand again. His body aches, but he feels his miracle working already, how his skin begins to knit and spit glass from his flesh, leaving behind silvery scars or nothing at all. He counts to three, and with a single breath, lifts the entity in his arms, cradled in his arms in a bridal carry.

His Stranger had always been thin, but he is light, lighter than Hob knows he should be. He tries not to panic about it.

"I'm taking him home." He tells the bird. "Find the tools he's talking about, and follow us."

The bird flaps her wings twice, and caws.

"I'll keep him safe," Hob swears, with inadvisable conviction. "I promise."

This, finally, mollifies her, and Hob follows her up the stairs.

The party is silent, and bodies are slumped on floors, against tables and walls. It takes him a second glance to realize they weren't dead, as he had assumed. He hears snoring, even, and quickened breaths.

"They're sleeping?" Hob asks, walking quickly but treading carefully over their bodies.

The Stranger nods, eyes closed.

"For how long?"

Not dead, Hob surmised. But they might as well be.

"Forever."

#dreamling #sandman #fishbowl fic #damn #love you yan i missed you sm

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peachtozier · 3 months

Text

extremely niche field hockey losers club au taken entirely from my experience playing field hockey as a teen <3

Bill

Centre midfield

Right in the middle of the field, halfway

This is mostly due to the fact that as a kid when i played hockey, centre half was always the position of the team leader

Thats because they have to organize both defense and offense due to being in the centre. and the midfield

Surprisingly good at talking around his mouthguard

Sometimes forgets to even take his mouthguard OUT when coming in for half time so everyone just listens to him slur about the game for a couple minutes before he realises

Has a couple spare sticks in his bag always so if anyone forgets theirs he lets them borrow them

Probably the best overall player. You could stick him anywhere and he’d thrive

Except maybe eddie and bevs position, lol

Richie

When he was younger richie was definitely a really annoying winger (sometimes called forwards or strikers)

This is because he mastered the art of seagulling. essentially swooping in last second to flick a ball into the goal when not needed

However once he got older and taller he was way too gangly and awkward to shove up field

So he ended up as a fullback. a completely defensive position. which is in fact very different to playing an offensive position like winger

He's actually really good at defence surprisingly

Hes ALSO annoying here but for a different reason

He has such a good hit on him that its ridiculous. Even with a little bit of a windup and he can crack the ball from way deep in defense up to the offensive quarter

Takes his mouthguard out of his mouth to talk. And tucks it under his sock when not using it (REAL THING WE USED TO DO). to do so you have to buy slightly-too-large socks so they fold over at the top so if he doesnt fold them over his socks do go over his knees

Always wearing colourful inners (a type of sock we wear underneath our shinpads bc shinpads are extremely awkward and uncomfortable to wear)

Has to wear a facemask during shootouts and it fits so weirdly around his big head and big glasses

Wears a protective glove on his left hand only (the hand that touches the ground if you tackle)

Takes the original tape off his stick so he can replace it with more colourful tape

Eddie

Eddie plays inner. and will always play inner. (position is also called sweeper, freeman)

This position is just essentially running up and down the field, relatively in line with the ball so you can always be an available pass

Which means eddie is constantly running. running up and down the field (about 90 meters or 300 feet long) for the entirety of the sixty minute game

Eddie also buys his socks large enough to have them fold over at the top but he will not tuck his mouthguard into them. he thinks thats fucking disgusting and yells at richie for it every game

He sucks ass at talking around his mouthguard though so if hes relatively free from other players hell quickly take his mouthguard OUT OF HIS MOUTH to yell for the ball

Wears protective gloves on both hands bc one time richie nailed him in the knuckles with a pass and it bruised so badly mrs k barely let him out of the house for three weeks

Wears defensive shinpads (you can get both defensive and offensive style shinpads) bc he thinks the offensive ones are way too small

Mike

I think he’s also a fullback with richie

Probably stays closer to the goal than richie does

Because i think he’s probably the best tackler

An actual brick wall when he’s tackling. low to the ground, knees bent, everything. and then he’ll flick the ball OVER your stick and pass to richie to get it out of the defensive quarter

Hes only played defensive positions so he has an eye for where players will run to to shoot

He’s the one that brings the snacks to the games. it isnt halftime without a bag of jelly beans.

Whenever theyre having an offensive-heavy game and the ball isnt coming back to defence he’ll lean against his stick like it’s a cane and just watch the game (youre supposed to always stay prepared but its nice just watching the rest of the team deal with bullshit)

He’ll play kicking back if theres no goalie but he HATES it (kicking back is essentially a goalie without the uniform. you get a face mask and thats it. you do get to kick the ball without the ref calling it though)

Gets bits of artificial turf all over him and he isn’t even running like eddie is. somehow it just all splashes up onto him

Bev

Girls are allowed to play with the boys teams here occasionally (as long as you have less than eleven players- which is the maximum amount of players on the field)

When she plays with the boys i think she’d be an inner with eddie

Shes not the best at inner, she’s just fast

Worlds most annoying dribbler oh my god

Constantly flicking ahead of herself and just begging for people to try and steal from her

She’s really good at getting the ball past people’s sticks and through their feet (which is a dick move bc if it touches someone’s foot the ref calls for a penalty hit. the game stops and all opposing players have to move at least five metres away)

Plays super offensively even as an inner and bill is always calling for her to run back and help defence

Also de-tapes her stick to retape it fun colours

When she plays with the boys she also wears two protective gloves

Also tucks her mouthguard in her sock during half time

However she will forget to put it back in and sometimes plays a couple minutes of a game before she realises shes not wearing it

Makes her own inners from fun fabrics

Ben

Ben as a kid i think always got put at fullback

They do this to fat kids its why i got put at fullback too

But as he grows into being a teenager i think he ends up a half back

Essentially like bill’s job except without the offensive. Calls out to people on his side to move up or down or left or right. Helps defensively, that sorta thing

Stays super low in defence even when he doesnt need to bc its what he’s used to

And if its a slow game he talks to mike and richie (he and richie like gossiping)

Also has a super good hit but rarely uses it because he’s worried he’ll hit someone with it

Probably the second best at talking around his mouthguard

He and eddie are the only ones that enjoy full-field warmups where you run around the outside of the field. everyone else likes the shorter sprints up and down the middle

He gets a part-time job at the stick-shop near the field and everyone badgers him for discounts

Stan

Pure offensive wing

Rarely comes back past the half-way line

Has the highest goal-count out of all of them because of this

This was not true as kids because richie used to seagull all his goals like the little asshole he was

stan still high fived him (begrudingly) at each of richies seagull goals though

De-tapes his stick because he uses a special kind of tape that’s a little more lightweight and cushiony

Definitely has a full stick bag with sections for every kind of gear. Has a separate section for his gloves. A separate section for where he puts his uniform. A separate section where his shinpads go.

Always the one bringing the ball bag onto the field bc everyone else forgets it

Also talks around his mouthguard

Not good at it but he’d rather die than put it in his sock

He’s the only one that will replace his mouthguard every two months like youre technically supposed to

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #stan uris #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #the losers club #it 2017 #it 2019 #connors hcs

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dizzyjelly · 1 year

Text

We Can Be Scared Together(18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: enemies to lovers, you and Ellie are high-school classmates who despise each other but then one Friday night you go to a party and play an interesting game of spin the bottle. There's quite a bit of angst, but a happy ending bc I'm a sucker for love :D

Cw: fighting, use of slur (dyke), homophobia, readers parents kinda suck(mostly dad), disappointed father, parents fight briefly, caring/worried mom, underage drinking, brief mention of eating disorder, brief mention of weed, heavy make out session, smut!, boob stuff, oral, Ellie is a munch ig?

A/n: it took me so long to write this oml 😭 also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it isn't great but I think I did a pretty good job on it. Anyways enemies to lovers is my favorite trope so I absolutely loved writing this, hope you enjoy!

You sat in class, bored out of your mind as you stared at the wall in front of you. There was some dumbass inspirational poster taped to it, something about 'what's popular is not always right what's right is not always popular blah blah blah.'

Everything was going as it usually did, but then the teacher called out your name. She had some question written out on the board, and apparently you were going to be the one to answer.

"Y/n, what would our answer be here?" She asked, crossing her arms as she stared you down.

You tried to peek at the boys paper beside you, knowing he was smart. But of course, he covered it with his arm, asshole.

"Um, I- I don't know." You finally admitted, tired of all the eyes on you.

You could hear someone laughing in the back of the classroom, you turned your head to see who. And lo and behold, it was Ellie Fucking Williams. God, you hated that girl. You squinted your eyes at her with hatred.

"Bitch." You muttered under your breath, somehow she'd heard you because her laughter stopped and her brows furrowed.

"What'd you say?" She asked, now standing from her seat and walking over to you.

You looked up at her for a minute before standing yourself, you had a few inches on her so now you were the one in control. Carefully, you took a step closer, your chests brushed against one another as you did so.

She looked up at you, clenching her jaw as she held tight fists at her side. Your jaw was relaxed, but you also had your hands in fists.

"Ladies." Your teacher warned, but neither of you were listening.

Before you knew it, you'd punched her square in the nose and she got you right back. Not in the nose though, she went for your mouth. Fortunately, none of your teeth broke, but you did bite down on your tongue hard enough that it was gushing blood. And your lip was also split.

Ellie has two thick red lines of blood trickling out of her nose, running down her chin and staining her white tank. You laughed at the sight, bringing your hand to rub at your jaw as it ached. The smile on your face was bittersweet.

"You stupid bitch!" You shouted, and then about three seconds later and she was on the floor helpess as you were on top of her.

You were practically straddling her, and to make things even better you'd held both her arms down above her head, a rather intimate position. You wouldn't notice though, because you were too focused on beating the girl that was beneath you.

After a good slap to her face, you got distracted by some idiot guy in your class.

"Yeah! Take your top off!" He'd shouted, sounding all giddy. [Kind of a mean girls reference lol]

God he was probably so bricked up right now. You scoffed, climbing off the poor girl and standing on your own two feet. She practically jumped up, and the look on her face just said pissed.

She quickly expressed that physically, by shoving you harshly into the wall with her hands on either of your shoulders. You groaned as your head pounded against the brick wall, damn you couldn't get another concussion. Now she was the one smiling.

Before she could get any kind of hit in, you were pulled apart by the school security guard. You were breathing heavily as a hand came to the back of your head, which was throbbing in pain.

After a while, the two of you were now seated in the office. You were particularly shocked that they let the two of you sit beside each other. Your arms were crossed, and you were silent. Ellie sat relaxed, her arms resting on her chair as she manspreaded with zero shame.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later that the vice principal came from his office to call one of you back to speak to your parent on the phone you assumed. Thankfully, he'd called Ellie’s name first, you were not at all ready for what your mom would have to say about this.

She came out after about fifteen minutes or so, a sour look present on her face as her arms were crossed. This time when she sat her legs crossed tightly. Damn, her dad must've been really upset. You looked over to her, the to the vice principal as he called for you. Your eyes widened with fear and you made your way into his office, taking a seat.

"So," he cleared his throat, "we have a zero tolerance policy with violence here, as you know I'm sure. I will now inform you of your punishment and the we will call your mother. You will face lunch detention for one month, minimum, that's if you can behave. You will report here after school to do community service for two weeks. And you and Ms. Williams will meet with the school counselor once a week, together." He read it all off some yellow sheet, then picked up the phone to dial your mom.

You groaned in agony, community service wouldn't be horrible but weekly meetings with the counselor? God, just kill me now, you thought. Then you panicked as the phone rang all but once before your mother picked up. You began chewing at your nails as he explained what happened then handed you the phone.

"Mom?" Your voice was quiet and shaky, you were terrified.

"Y/n Y/l/n, I cannot believe this. What happened?" She scolded, clearly upset.

"I- I don't know." It was the best answer you could give, and mostly true.

"I mean I don't get it, you've always been my good little girl." She sounded... sad?

"Yeah, well maybe I'm tired of being good!" You shouted, frustrated.

It was difficult, being held to such high expectations. You were far from perfect, but that's all she wanted you to be. Her and your father both, but you just weren't.

"Y/n... that's not true" She sighed, "your father is going to be furious, even more than I am."

"How do you know its not true, huh? All you and dad want me to be is this perfect girl with amazing grades and cool friends. Well I'm not. I'm tired of all the pressure you guys put on me, I can't take it anymore!" You shouted once again before shoving the phone back into the vice principals hand then storming out of his office.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you'd be damned if you let Ellie Williams see you cry, so you bolted for the schools back doors and ran to your car. Once you were there, you drove as you blasted music to drown out your thoughts. You weren't going home, no, but where? Eventually you decided to head to your favorite park, you'd always go there to get high.

Why not continue the tradition? You figured there was no point in staying sober, besides a joint would definitely help with the lecture you'd be receiving from your parents tonight. Mostly your father, but still.

You brought your hands to your face, wiping your tears away. Then you grabbed a joint from your empty glasses case in the pouch on the back of your seat. Afterwards, you made your way to the swings and lit it up.

An hour or so passed and your phone started ringing, you picked it up and of course it was your mother yelling frantically about how worried she was. Rolling your eyes, you hung up without a word and drove home, high as a kite. You pulled into the driveway and every bone in your body told you not to go inside, but you had to, so you did.

You were met with your parents asking you to come sit in the living room, as they stood across from the couch. Your leg bounced anxiously as your father started to speak.

"To say we're worried about you would be an understatement y/n, we are beyond worried. I don't know what has driven you to this new wave of violence, but we won't have it. You're grounded for at least one month, and you can only have your phone during school in case you need to contact one of us. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Truly, I do not know who you are anymore. I do know one thing though, you're sure as hell not the my sweet little girl anymore. Now, give me your phone and go to your room." His speech was finally done, and there had been a tear or two that made its way down your face.

Your eyes rolled as you gave him your phone, then ran upstairs to your room. Not even bothering to get any schoolwork done, you changed into some comfy clothes then got into bed. You kept your lights off as you got warm underneath your covers in the dark. You let out a heavy sigh as tears started to wet the bedsheet beneath you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you woke up the next morning, you had no motivation to even get up. But you did, knowing you were already on thin ice so there's no way you'd get to stay home. You were silent at the dining table during breakfast, only muttering a thank you to your mother when she handed you your phone as you were walking out the door. You drove to school in silence.

The day went by surprisingly well, and thankfully the meetings with your shit counselor didn't begin until next week. Everything was going smoothly until gym class, you were in the girls locket room changing into your gym clothes. The teacher decided on basketball today, which you quite enjoyed.

You went about your business as usual, not even looking in Ellie's direction. You figured it was better to just leave things alone. Everything was going fine until some popular bitches had to start talking.

"Oh my God, Stacy, she's totally looking at us." The blonde one didn't even try to whisper, giggling.

"Ew, I know. She's so gay. Like im totally uncomfortable right now." Stacy replied, also laughing.

"Seriously, she should just use the boys locker room." The blonde one spoke again and the pair laughed even harder.

You rolled your eyes, knowing they were talking about Ellie. Not that you cared, but today it was getting on your nerves. You'd had enough.

"Can't you guys just shut the fuck up?" You asked, your voice slightly raised.

Ellies brows furrowed at your response, definitely unexpected.

"And who are you, the dyke defender?" The blonde one asked, her sass more present than anything.

"No. But I know you guys are making a big deal out of nothing." You spoke at a normal tone now, taking a step closer to her.

"It's weird!" Stacy shouted from beside her.

"Oh my God, no it's not!" You shouted back, "besides, Stacy, you're one to talk. I find it weird how the two of you are always running to the bathroom together after lunch. Probably throwing up your salads, bulimic bitches." You insulted the two girls, and they were left speechless.

The two of them just gasped and rolled there eyes at you before exiting to the gym. You let a small smile creep onto your face as you turned around, facing Ellie. She smiled at you but you just stared at her blankly, then made your way to the gym without a word to her.

You were out on the basketball court now, the game was going rather well. Your team was winning by three points, and you had scored once or twice. Then, your gym teacher blew her whistle for a break. You started to lightly jog towards your water when somebody shoulder-checked you harshly enough to knock you to the ground.

And of course it was Stacy. Bitch.

"Whoops, sorryyy!" She shouted sarcastically.

You sighed, propping your elbows up on the floor behind you. Before you knew it, there was a hand holding yours and helping you up. Much to your surprise, it was none other than your arch nemesis Ellie.

"Thanks." You meant to sound genuine, but failed miserably.

"Yeah, no problem. Hey, can I waterfall your water? Forgot mine today." She brought a hand to the back of her neck, which was dripping in sweat.

You took a nice, long sip of your ice cold water. Then you shrugged, handing it to her.

"Sure, why not?" Your tone had slowly become kinder and less passive aggressive.

You watched as she tilted her head back, then let the waterfall past her lips. A single drop spilling down her chin. You might have hated her, but damn. There was something about the way she looked with her hair pulled back, all sweaty and hot. It was like, sexy? No, no. You hated this girl. She wasn't sexy, she was just a bitch.

Once the school day was done with, you headed home and the whole drive there all you could think about was Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams, and how you'd thought she was hot and sexy. It made absolutely no sense. You'd spent years upon years hating this girl, and now you were attracted to her. No, there's no way.

You were beyond thankful to come home to an empty house, both your parents still at work. They couldn't take your phone if they weren't home. But, it didn't matter because they'd set s screen time on it so you couldn't use it anyways. You let out a groan of frustration and annoyance. Then, you decided to actually do something responsible. You got all your homework done while watching TV in the living room.

Quickly, you collected your things and ran to your room when you heard your parents pull up in the driveway. You hadn't wanted to see them, not unless you had to. As they walked in the door, they seemed to be arguing about something.

"Honey, you're overreacting." Your mom spoke softly.

"No, I'm not. She's an embarrassment to this family! She is my greatest disappointmen! And I dont want to hear about it from my own father." Your father argued, his voice rough.

"She's your daughter, how can you say that?" Your mother replied, taking offense.

You only realized now that he was talking about you, that definitely hurt.

"I don't care, you know sometimes I wish she wasn't!" Your father shouted, and your mother gasped.

You ran from where you were listening at the stairs and slammed your door shut, immediately climbing into bed to cry. You could hear your mother start to yell at your father, but you didn't bother to try and make out what she was saying. You stayed in your room for the rest of the night, going to bed without dinner.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, the loud beeping bringing you agony as always. You slam the button down so hard your tiny digital clock falls to the ground, groaning you sit up. After rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you get out of bed. As much as you were dreading school, at least it was Friday. Your parents would be going out of town for a family event, which you were not invited to.

This was the result of their argument last night, your father winning and now you were staying home while they met with your grandparents. You knew you hadnt been the best kid lately, but it never occurred to you that you were now your fathers greatest disappointment. Not until last night at least.

Doing your best to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, you left for school early that morning. You didn't do much with your spare time, just sitting in the parking lot with your car still on.

The school day was mildly boring, nothing interesting happening. That was until you overheard a conversation between some guys in your fourth hour.

"You going to Josh's party tonight?" The first guy asked.

"Mm, depends. Josh D or Josh P?" The second guy answered, with a question as well.

"Ugh, Josh P obviously." The first guy replied.

"Alright. Then yeah, what time?" Guy number two asked his friend.

"Like eleven I think." His friend responded.

"Alright, cool." The other guy answered.

You felt excitement bubbling, a party would be fun. And another chance to disappoint your father. That wasn't your goal though, mainly you just wanted to get shit faced and forget your sorry ass life for a night. You weren't really close with Josh P, but you knew where he lived. You'd definitely be going to that party at eleven.

[Fast forward to later tonight, you're getting ready for the party]

The outfit you'd chosen for school definitely wasn't going to cut it. You opened up your closet, skimming through your clothes. Eventually you settled on a navy blue dress, it was just short enough to get you checked out. It also had a flattering crewneck and a tanktop build at the top.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, it hugged your curves exceptionally well. Then you took a seat at your vanity as you did your makeup. Nothing too outrageous, just the basics. Eyeliner, mascara, blush, highlighter, and lip gloss.

Once you were done you slipped into your favorite pair of shoes, specifically for parties. They had light stains, due to that fact, they were your go-tos in case anyone threw up on your shoes or anything like that.

You drove over to the party, it wasn't too far so you didn't leave until eleven. Plus, you didn't wanna be that weirdo who showed up early. Thankfully when you got there, there had already been a decent amount of kids your age inside. As you walked in, you were immediately hit with the stench of booze and the sound of loud music blasting in your ears.

It was slightly euphoric, but maybe that was just you. You'd always felt that way, taking your first steps into a party, like you were on top of the world. Everything was going decently well, and you were down two drinks when you had gotten into a game of beer pong. This knocked you down a couple more drinks, and you were ready for another round when a certain someone caught your eye from across the table.

Ellie. Ellie was here, your breath caught in your throat as you swallowed hard at the sight of her. She wore a black lacey crop top, that was basically a bralette. And she wore loose-fitted jeans that dipped below her stomach, the lining of her matching black underwear creeping out the sides. You bit down at your bottom lip, darting away to the bathroom.

If the thought that she was hot came to your mind sober, lord only knows what's to come when you've been drinking. You sighed as you shut and locked the door behind you, squeezing your eyes shut as you slid down the door and sat on the cold tiles, bringing your head to your hands.

You let out a defeated sigh, you couldn't hide out in here forever. But it wouldn't hurt to stay for a while. After finally getting your shit together, you stood to wash your hands under cold water, giving you a slight sense of adrenaline. You exited and left the door open as you walked back out to the living room. Beer pong was done with, and a circle was being formed for spin the bottle.

I mean, come on, you had to play. And you saw Ellie take a seat, which, for some odd reason, just made the game more intriguing. Besides, who were you to pass up a drunk kissing game at a high school party? It'd be lame if you had.

Smiling, you sat crisscross applesauce between two guys, one sat comfortably and calm, the other seemed terrified. Dudes probably a virgin or something, the way he was practically shaking at the thought of having to just kiss someone. You shook your head lightly, chuckling at him a bit.

"Alright, who's up first?" Josh, the host, asked as he took a seat and set an empty bottle in the middle of everyone.

Nobody was eager to volunteer, and you were about to lean forward to take a spin, but somebody else cut you off.

"Guess I'll go." Ellie spoke so nonchalantly, it drove you insane.

You could feel your heart pick up as she leaned forward to spin the green bottle, giving you a perfect view of her boobs. You swore you could've been drooling at the sight. Your eyes locked in on the bottle as it spun rapidly, shaking a bit, and as it slowly came to a stop, you were silently hoping it'd land on you. And no. fucking. way. It did.

Her eyes met yours, a playful smirk finding its way onto her face. You smiled sheepishly, turning your head slightly as your cheeks flushed red and you licked your lips. Taking a deep breath, you got on your hands and knees to get face to face with her, she did the same.

Just before she brought her lips to yours, she leaned to the side to whisper in your ear. The way her hot breath felt against your neck drove you crazy.

"Let's give em' a real show, huh?" Her voice was low and husky, sending a shockwave to your core.

Finally, she brought her lips to yours. Almost immediately, her hands found their place on the back of your neck as she pulled you in deeper. You took your hands to her bare waist, letting out a small moan as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

She tasted faintly of strawberry, mostly of alcohol and a little bit of weed. It was so addicting, the way her tongue ran against every corner, every crevice of your mouth. Then, you just couldn't help yourself as she bit down on your bottom lip just enough to make it sting. Pushing her back, you crawled forwards and straddled her.

Somehow you were still breathing, even after not having pulled away for one second from what might've been the most magical, intense kiss of your life. Ellies hands moved down your body, now cupping your ass. She gave it a small squeeze and a smile formed on your lips, she chuckled against your lips as she felt it.

A string of both your mixed salivas formed as you pulled back just slightly, but it didn't last long as Ellie brought her lips back to yours in an instant. Everyone else had been cheering and clapping, going insane over how hot and heavy you guys got. Finally, you climbed off of her and took your place back in your seat.

Flustered, you brought a hand up to lightly stroke your hair. Ellies cheeks flushed red as she wiped at the corners of her mouth, which were all wet from your hot, sloppy kiss. You shot her a smile, and she returned the favor. You felt butterflies in your stomach, swirling around at an incredibly fast pace.

"Well, that's gonna be hard to beat." Josh said with strong laughter.

Somebody else would spin the bottle and the game continued for a good while. Josh was right though, nothing came close to what you and Ellie had. Eventually, the game ended when vrigin boy next to you chickened out and wouldn't kiss the rather cute brunette he'd spun on. Everyone booed and called him lame. You didn't care all that much, seeing as you were satisfied with the results of the game. Everyone dispersed and went on to doing other party activities.

Since you were already decently drunk, you skipped out on any kind of drinking games. Instead, you found yourself sat on the red couch in the living room, some couple of the other side of it were making out and borderline dry humping. Uncomfortable, you pulled out your phone just so you could have something to stare at. Then, after a minute or so, you felt somebody plop down next to you, their body leaning into yours without hesitation.

And what do you know, it's Ellie because of fucking course it's Ellie. She tried to say something to you, but you couldn't hear her due to the insanely loud music playing. You just looked st her confused, then your face heated up and she leaned into you even more, bringing her head to the side of yours and her hand to the other side of your neck as she talked into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

"So, how about that kiss huh? Pretty hot." You could just hear the smugness in her voice, and you were sure she had a stupid smirk plastered across her face right now.

"Sure was. Too bad we're not playing spin the bottle anymore." You joked, hoping she'd catch on. And she did, because she's not an idiot.

"So?" She said at first, leaning back and just giving you a sweet peck on the cheek, "if you wanted to kiss me again, I'd let you."

You let out a small sigh, God Damn she was so hot.

"Oh yeah? Well we better be careful, because the way you were grabbing my ass earlier gave me the impression you wanted a little something more." You were a bit shocked at your own words, they were the result of all your drinks, you knew you'd never say any of this sober.

Ellie laughed, it sounded so sweet from the proximity of her mouth to your ear.

"Well, I'm not gonna tell you you're wrong. Maybe we don't have to be so careful, if that's what you want, of course." She was bold, confident, sexy. The whole damn package.

You didn't give her another word, just backing up so you could pull her into a kiss. Your previous position returned, but now she straddled you. It was absolutely hot the way she didn't hold back, and you swore you heard her moan at the way you whimpered as she gripped your hair, tugging at it slightly.

Slowly, you were becoming strikingly similar to the couple that had made you so uncomfortable a few minutes ago. You couldn't give a single fuck about that though, because the way Ellie kissed you was downright addictive. You wanted more, no you needed more. After a minute or so, you pulled away then leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I don't want to be careful. I need you Ellie, so bad." Your words were breathy, and you meant every single one.

Ellie let out a small groan at how forward you'd been.

"Ok princess, let's go to my car. I've got tinted windows, can't promise nobody will hear us though. Can you keep quiet?" She whispered back.

You bit your lip,

"I'll try my best for you." You smiled as she stood and took you out to her car, having you climb into the backseat before she got in with you.

Immediately she locked the doors before climbing on top of you to resume your heavy make out session from inside. You loved the way she moved her hands up and down your sides, gripping at your hips as she rubbed her hands over them. You felt hot all over, and the wet spot forming in your panties was becoming more and more evident.

She broke your kiss and started peppering kisses across your jaw before she sucked at your neck hungrily, it didn't take long for her to find your pulse point that made you let out a loud moan. Quickly, you bit down on your bottom lip to quiet yourself, along with bringing a hand to your mouth as the other one held you up. Ellie slowly made her way down to your collarbones, then she brought her hands up from your hips to your dress.

"Can I pull this off baby?" She looked up at you with lust filled eyes as she spoke so softly, so sensual.

You nodded eagerly in response, the way she was treating you, you'd let her do whatever she wanted. She let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to either of your shoulders.

"Use your words, pretty girl." She encouraged, still gripping at your dress.

"Yes, please." You whined out, and she pulled your dress down, along with your bra in one fell swoop.

She immediately latched onto one of your tits, taking the other in her hand as she toyed with your nipple, they peaked hard and you let out a breathy moan as she flicked her tongue over the one. The other was kneaded between her fingers like dough, and God it felt amazing. After a minute she switched so her mouth was on the other, giving it one small suck before she kissed further down your chest to your stomach, now pulling your dress all the way down to your ankles.

You flushed red, feeling a little embarrassed at how exposed you were. Instinctively, you pushed your legs together. Ellie shot you a smirk, taking your knees in her hands to spread you apart.

"Come on baby girl, no need to hide, you're so pretty." She complimented you as she brought her head down to place light kisses on your inner thigh.

Then she sucked a few harsh kisses into them, gripping at your ass as she did so. You let out another moan as she worked your thighs with her mouth, the fact she was so close to where you'd needed her so badly was driving you insane. After a minute you couldn't take it anymore, reaching down to pull off your underwear yourself before grabbing her by the back of her head and guiding her towards your dripping core.

She let out a small moan at your sudden impatience, and she let you have your way. When her tongue finally met your clit, you couldn't help the pornagraphic moan that escaped your lips. You brought a hand to your mouth, biting down on your pointer finger to silence yourself as she lapped her tongue.

She took it slow at first, but after you'd given her hair a light tug she started eating you out like there was no tomorrow. She absolutely devoured you, like you were her last meal, and she savored every drop. It didn't take long for you to get that familiar feeling in your stomach, knowing you were close.

"El-ellie, mmnph- fuck I'm gonna-" You sucked a breath through your teeth as she went even faster, "ah fuckkk.." You moaned out.

She broke away for just a second, causing you to let out a rather pathetic whimper.

"Cum for me baby, come on. I got you. That's my girl" she was back on you in seconds, and you came in no time after those words of praise.

You were a moaning mess as you reached your release, bringing your other hand down to grip onto her hair as she didn't stop. Not even forming coherent sentences at this point, you couldn't even tell her to stop because you were starting to feel overstimulated. Instead you just pulled her back from you, she stared up at you with a smile. Your chest rose and fell quickly as you panted.

She climbed forwards, her hands coming down at either side of your head as she went to kiss you. You let out a small moan as you tasted yourself on her tongue. She brought a hand to caress your cheek softly.

"You did so good baby, so proud of you." You giggled at her words.

"Thank you," you blushed, "do you want me to... do anything for you?" You asked shyly, she'd just given you an earth shattering orgasm so the least you could do was return the favor.

But, she shook her head.

"Nah, I'll be fine." She smiled down at you, placing a kiss to your cheek then the conrer of your mouth.

"You sure?" You asked with furrowed brows, not wanting to leave her high and dry.

"Next time, pretty girl." You flashed her a smile, the thought of there being a next time had you excited.

"Mkay." You brought a hand to the back of her neck to pull her in for another kiss.

Once the two of you broke apart, she helped you pull your panties back up from your ankles as well as your dress. You smiled at her sweetly, she sat back comfortably, patting her leg for you to come sit. You sat between her spread legs, smiling as you rested your head on her shoulder and her arms wrapped around you, rubbing soft circles into your tummy.

The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, merely enjoying each other's presence. You let out a small sigh of frustration when her phone started going off and she removed one hand from you to check it.

"Ah, shit. I've gotta get home. Did you need a ride or anything?" She asked, as she pushed you off her and was ready to get into the driver's seat.

"Um, I'm pretty shit faced so yeah that'd be great." You sat in the backseat as she got into the driver's then took you home.

She said goodbye with just a small wave. You did the same, just trying to match her energy. You couldn't help the dumbstruck smile on your face as you walked into your house and upstairs to your room. You squealed into your pillow after jumping onto your bed. You were in shock, it was hard to believe that really just happened, but it did. Tonight was one of the best of your life.

As tired as you were, you still managed to remove your makeup and get changed into some comfy clothes for bed. You shut off your lights and got comfy under your covers, giddily replying the events of tonight as you closed your eyes to fall asleep. It didn't take long for you to basically passed out, mostly because of how many drinks you'd has. Before you knew it you were out like a light.

Throughout the weekend you were on a high, still thinking back to everything that went down on Friday. Monday morning came along, and you were actually excited to go to school for once. You didn't see Ellie until science class, but you could wait. Even if it felt like you couldn't. Once you got there, she was definitely acting weird.

You smiled at her, even waved a little, but she didn't so much as glance in your direction. You were confused to say the east, but you just figured maybe she had a bad morning or something. It's not like you guys were that close so you didn't really know. You tried your best not to let it cloud your mind, and if didn't. At least not until your teacher told you to pick partners and you walked over to Ellie.

"Hey, Ellie, do you wann-"

"No. Um I'm gonna find someone else, thanks though." She was so quick to answer, and with a no?

Ok, what the hell happened over the weekend. Surely there must've been something. Maybe she had a boyfriend you didn't know about? Or a girlfriend. Either way, whether she was or wasn't in a relationship, she could've at least disclosed that to you. You ended up stuck partnering with Stacy because her blonde friend wasn't there that day. It was seriously hell on earth, and this was a week-long project.

Once class ended, you tried to talk to Ellie, but she seemed to get away from you as fast as she could so you didn't get the chance. You let out a small sigh of defeat, maybe you could try again in gym class. The time rolled around and you were back in the locker room, Stacy learned to keep her mouth shut thankfully.

You got changed quickly, then walked over to Ellie. Leaning against the locker beside her, you tried to read her gaze. What was her deal?

"Can I help you." She spoke after a moment, her tone was anything but welcoming or kind.

"Um, yeah. I just wondered what's up I guess, you're just being kinda weird." You answered timidly, shocked by her hostile state.

"Look, we're not friends so I don't know why you're acting like it. Just drop it ok?" She answered, somehow her voice had gotten even colder.

Your teacher called for everyone to come out to the gym, you stopped Ellie though so now it was just the two of you.

"Ellie, come on. What are you saying, what are we?" You asked, genuinely wondering.

"Nothing. We aren't anything." She answered with a shake of her head as if it was obvious.

You scoffed harshly,

"Oh, ok nothing, really? I don't know about you, but the other night sure as hell didn't feel like nothing to me!" Your voice raised slightly as you were growing angry.

She sighed, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose out of frustration.

"Look, y/n. The other night was a mistake, and we were both drunk. If there hadn't been drinks involved, nothing would've happened." She spoke so clearly, as if it really meant nothing to her.

Tears grew in your eyes, but you did your best to shive them down, that all too familiar lump forming in your throat.

"Bullshit" you spat out, "bullshit because I'm stone cold sober right now and I can't stop thinking about kissing you again." You argued.

"Well, sorry but that's just you" She looked down, avoiding your strong gaze, "I don't have feeling for you."

You couldn't stop the tears that fell from your eyes at that statement.

"Ok, then look me in my eyes and tell me. Tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me." You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Y/n, please don't do this." She pleaded, as if she couldn't do what you were asking.

"No, look at me and tell me. Then I'll believe you." You stated, the anger blooming in your chest as more tears fell.

Her eyes met yours and she almost looked sorry for making you cry, but clearly not sorry enough.

"I dont-" She stopped for a moment, tears no welled in her eyes, "I don't have feelings for you." She spoke clearly and coldly, meeting your gaze so directly.

"Ok, then I guess we're done" You sniffled, wiping at your tears that just continued to flow, "see you around, Williams." You sighed, getting your things together as you headed for the back doors.

You left school early, skipping out on the rest of your classes. When you got home in the middle of the day, you were surprised to find your mother home.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? Why aren't you in class?" Shit.

"I got a fever." You lied through your teeth, but she just let you because she could tell you'd been crying.

"Ok, you want me to make you some soup?" She asked, her motherly nature kicking in.

"No, I'm good. Thanks mom." You shook your head, then ran upstairs to your room.

You were silent for the rest of the evening, only going downstairs for dinner before you went back up to your room and cried yourself to sleep. Fucking deja vu.

The next morning your alarm went off, and you just felt empty. There was no way in hell you'd go to school, so you had another fever today. Your mom called you in sick, coming to say goodbye to you before she left for work. You lied in bee, facing the wall as you recalled the hesrt wrenching conversation with Ellie from yesterday.

"Hey sweetie, just came to say bye" Your mother announced as she came and sat on your bed, "I know you don't have a fever, wanna tell me what's really going on?" She asked, bringing a hand to rub your arm soothingly.

You sighed, maybe it'd help to talk about it.

"There's this girl. I thought she liked me, but-" Your breath hitched, "I was wrong." You sniffled as your tears began to wet the bedsheets beneath you.

"Aw, honey, that girl just doesn't know a keeper when she sees it then" she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss to your forehead, "there's no medicine for a broken heart, but I promise it'll get better in time. I'm sorry sweetie." She stood and left, you were happy to be alone but hated it at the same time.

You spent practically the entire day thinking about Ellie, wondering why she'd gotten so cold. Just racking your brain for something, anything you might've done wrong. It was no use, nothing came to light. You were stuck in the dark.

You'd only gotten out of bed to use the bathroom and get a little something to eat, you stood leaning against the kitchen counter in just an oversized t-shirt and underpants as you microwaved some noodles.

Then, there was a knock at the door. Your brows furrowed, probably a package for one of your parents you left it alone as you waited on your food, but then they knocked again, you sighed and walked over to the door. As you swung it open, you felt like you might crumble and fall to the floor. It was Ellie. Ellie with a bouquet of flowers in her hand... what the fuck.

"Hi. Look, I don't wanna take up a ton of your time because I was a dick to you but I'm sorry. It wasn't fair for me to treat you that way and I'm just really fucking sorry" She extended her hand out, handing you the flowers, she brought her hands to her pockets as she stood awkwardly.

"Ok, well an explanation might be nice..." You spoke quietly, holding the rather beautiful flowers in one hand as the other rested on the door handle.

Ellie sighed.

"Looks, y/n, I really like you. I don't understand how I went from hating you for years, to being in love with you and- shit. I probably shouldn't have said that. Uh- anyways, I really really like you and I guess I'm just scared because I don't really know how to be in a relationship, and I dont want to mess this up. Because I really like you. Like, a lot." Her confession was heartfelt and genuine, it was real.

You smiled.

"Well, for starters, I suppose I can forgive you. Secondly, I don't wanna mess this up either, and I understand that you're scared. I'm scared too. But, maybe we could be scared together. As long as you won't shut me out or get all cold again." You gave her a stern look at the end of your own confession.

"I promise. Also I hope you like the flowers, I wasn't really sure what to get. I'm not used to apologizing." She chuckled awkwardly.

"I love them, now come here you idiot." You set the flowers down and brought your arms around her, bringing her in for a kiss.

The two of you shared a warm embrace afterwards, your head finding comfort in the crook of Ellie’s neck.

"Oh, and by the way" you whispered into her hair, "I'm in love with you too."

#ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie williams smut

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gxdsfavgal · 11 months

Text

Brotherly

Pairings: Shelby Brothers x reader

Warnings: based on season 5, no canon events, there's no violence in this only bc idk how to write that properly

Request: I would love something with Finn and his brothers like Finn gets hurt and they all get protective ( John still alive ) thank you xx

A/N: ahhh first time writing Peaky Blinders!! this is around 1.4k words

We weren’t doing anything, just leaned up against a brick wall talking it up. Just Finn, Isaiah, and I. Normal things that we do when we’re not doing shit for Tommy.

That’s when it hit. Brick flying everywhere, dust sticking to our hair and skin. Ours ears ringing. The bright cloudy sky immediately turning dark as my body collapsed.

I look up from the ground where I laid, the building we were leaning against was blown up. My lungs burned as I got up to my hands and knees, my body tingling. I blinked my eyes up at the bright sky.

“Get up! Get up!” I heard muffled.

“Get up!” Isaiah yelled as he pulled me up by my arms, dragging me to the other side of the road.

He sat me down on the floor, holding my shoulders trying to see if I was injured.

"Does anything hurt?" he asked, but my ears were still ringing.

Isaiah did a quick scan of my body, checking my back, my arms, my legs, and more. My mind was running 1000 miles per second, until it wasn't. I had quickly snapped out of it as I was replaying the scene in my mind.

“Where’s Finn?” I was able to say with a coarse throat.

“I-I don’t know.” he looked back at the scene trying to scan the area.

“Did you look for him, Isaiah?” I look up at his face, seeing that he was also covered in stone. He has a gash on his forehead and chin, bleeding down his neck.

“Shit, you’re hurt.” I stood up from the ground, starting to assess his injuries.

“It’s just cuts.” He lowered my hands away from his face. “I don’t know where Finn is.”

Concern was flowing out of him through his tense shoulders and watery eyes.

“Fuck. Okay, go to Tommy. Come back.” I moved past him to look through the rubble as he ran to get Tommy.

“Finn!” I yelled out, standing at the edge of the broken bricks.

I scan the area to see if I can see him. Nothing. Nothing but bricks and wood.

I began to think that he’s dead, wondering what the fuck i’m going to tell the Shelby’s. Started to think about the hell that will be raised if Finn is not found alive.

“There’s a body here!” a elder lady yelled frantically, her weak hands trembled as she began to pull away bricks.

I quickly ran towards her and began pulling the bricks off, revealing a unconscious Finn. His body limp as I couldn’t tell if his chest rose and fell.

“Water! I need water and a towel!”

The lady immediately ran into her home to grab the things I need: water, towels, and vodka. I didn’t even have to ask.

The other civilians watching from afar, gossiping and pointing.

"What the fuck are you all looking at? None of you fucking helped!" I screamed out as I was revealing more and more of his body with each brick taken away.

She handed me the water and towel. I poured the water over him to clean his face, not wanting him to inhale more dust.

I noticed a deep cut on the side of his head, which can even mean brain damage. At this point, I won’t know until he wakes up.

“Where the fuck is he?” I heard a familiar voice yell out into the streets.

“Tommy!” I yelled over my shoulder as I continued to clean up his younger brother.

Tommy, Arthur, and John jogged up towards me with Isaiah following behind.

“Everyone back to your homes!” Arthur advised, everyone obeying quickly.

The streets were quiet with the civilians watching through their windows.

“Fuck, Finn.” Tommy crouched down near me as he rubbed his own face.

"What happened?" Tommy's nose flared.

“I- I don’t know what happened. We didn't do anything." My hands were shaking as I was tending to his younger brother.

Tommy's face was emotionless, it sent more chills around my body. I didn't know what he was thinking about, what he was going to do.

"W- We were just talking a-and then I woke up on the street. Right Isaiah?” I looked up at him as he shared the same hectic look as me.

“You two are fine. Make sure Finn is too.” John spoke up as the two older brothers began to assess the scene.

“Okay, I have to pour Vodka to prevent the wounds from contracting infection.” my face winced at the thought of the feeling.

Isaiah held Finn’s shoulders as I began to pour the alcohol onto the large gash on his head.

A loud and excruciating scream ripped out of Finn’s throat. His body jumping off the ground, legs flying up in the air but thankfully Isaiah held him down.

The brothers quickly ran over from the sound of the scream. Tommy’s face showed how he wanted to calculate and execute this as safely as possible.

“Take him to your house.” Tommy ordered.

“My house?” I yelled out in confusion.

“Your house. Let’s go!” The two other brothers carried Finn to the back of their car with me tending to him while Tommy ordered Isaiah and the others.

The drive was fast, soon enough we were rushing into my family’s kitchen and swiping cups off of our dining table.

“What in God’s name?” my mother yelled as she ran down the stairs from all the ruckus.

“Finn is hurt.” I reassured her.

She immediately grabbed her medical bag from the counter, opening it up to reveal all her tools.

Finn was groaning on the table as she examined his cuts, the adrenaline getting to him.

His eyes blown wide and shaky, his hands trembling.

“You’re in good hands.” I cooed as I cleaned his wounds better for my mother.

“Who did this?” Tommy asked as he leaned against the counter, smoking.

“I don’t know, but I think you guys do.” I looked at him as I crossed my arms.

He silently nodded his head, knowing who he’s pissed off recently.

"The fucking Billy Boys." Arthur mumbled.

"We'll get them for you Finn!" John yelled with a cheer and a smile. "We'll fucking get them!"

Arthur and John is already following behind Tommy as he stormed back into their car, handgun and steering wheel both gripped in his hand.

I didn't know where they were going, but I knew that at least one man was going to die. God knows that it wasn't any of the Shelby boys. Polly made sure God was on her side.

Finn seemed like he was going into shock with the way his jaw clenched and his eyes shaky. I'm holding him down as my mother picks away debris from the open flesh on his head.

"Are you hurt?" My mother whispered as she kept a steady hand.

"I don't think so." I said but got a stern look from her. "No. No, I'm not hurt."

She quickly nodded and went back to tending to Finn.

"You shouldn't h- you shouldn't have been there." Finn was able to speak out through his clenched teeth.

"I'm a Peaky Blinder." I shook my head side to side as I threaded the needle for my mother.

She scoffed from the side. We all knew that's how my father died, being a Blinder. She didn't want me to follow behind him.

"This is going to hurt." she told Finn as she waved the needle in front of his eyes.

I grabbed a kitchen rag and stuffed it between his jaws, hooping that it will muffle his screams.

My mom and I nodded to each other as I held Finns arms down.

The sharp metal pierced his skin over and over, his groans and screams barely muffled by the piece of cloth I lended.

It was quickly over. We splashed some vodka on it and even gave the bottle to Finn so he can nurse it. We bandaged him up and check for any other injuries on him.

Finn rested on the couch, his body tired from the amount of adrenaline that rushed through him.

While my mother and I was cleaning up, the Shelby brothers strutted through our front door.

There the three were, covered in blood but none of them hurt. It truly was a miracle every time.

"He's all patched up." My mother spoke up, eyeing the floor and her furniture to see if they've made any stains.

"Thank you." Tommy reached into his pocket, taking out a large wad of cash and handing it to me.

"Oh no, I cannot accept." I pushed his hand away.

"You put Finn first even when you were in the accident too." he held out the money again.

"For God's sake." My mother walked her way over in front of me. "I accept."

She took the money with a smile and went back to cleaning.

"What'd you all do?" Finn groaned out as he slowly walked from the living room to the kitchen where we all stood.

"Left a little message for Jimmy McCavern." Arthur chuckled out as he held out a bullet to Finn.

Finn was too weak to grab it, so he nodded for me to get it for him. I spun the bullet in my palm, examining each and every crevice.

"McCavern." I whispered out as my thumb slid over the engraving.

"Do I get the shot?" Finns eyes shot up to Tommy.

Tommy silently nodded with the side of his mouth slightly curled up.

"You get to shoot him in between his fucking eyes." John said nonchalantly.

#gxdsfavgals masterlist #cmac</3 #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #polly shelby #polly gray #michael gray #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders angst

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cheekykitsune · 2 years

Text

Unplanned Confessions

Okay, so first of all.

5880 words.

That’s a lot. That’s more than I have EVER written for a single NSFW scenario one-shot. Like, ever. Usually I like to keep them to about 3000 max.

That was blown outta the water this time, lemme tell you!

On that note, this actually took...so much time and energy and it’s hit pretty hard. I kept getting stuck on it, or falling asleep because of my meds and other bullshittery.

So I would greatly appreciate it, if you could let me know whether you enjoyed it or not! A comment, tags in a reblog (bc I see them all. I do, I promise I do), hell even an ask in my askbox.

But thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it and have a good night!

(It’s currently 5am and I’m exhausted, so Imma head to bed)

Navigation

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

Wandering through the streets at night wasn’t anything new to Taishiro, seeing people do disgusting things to each other was also something he was used to at this point. After all, he was known as one of the strongest villains in the area that was still ‘at large’. A unique way to put it considering the man’s size.

But even so, Taishiro took no pleasure in seeing some random scumbag hassle a woman in the alleyways that he used to get back home, pinning her up against a wall and doing god only knows what. Which is exactly why he changed the direction he was walking.

It was only temporary, the briefest of changes that allowed him to get closer to the two of them without the man realising until it was too late. Taishiro’s large hand closing around the back of his head and slamming his face into the solid brick wall behind the terrified woman that had stared at him in a silent plea for help the moment he laid eyes on her.

He found it truly amazing how a well-known villain was more help to a woman in distress than the heroes that paraded around claiming to be the people that were needed most.

Taishiro watched the disgusting man crumple to the ground in a broken heap, having clearly heard the loud, unmistakable sound of his skull cracking from the force he had used to hurt him; he had no mercy for people like the now unconscious man in front of him and little time for inconveniences when he was as tired as he was. Only just having finished a fight with a frustratingly persistent hero that insisted on declaring him to be his nemesis, though at best he was a minor inconvenience to the large villain.

Something easily dealt with.

“T-Thank you…”

Taishiro peered down at the woman, offering a quiet grunt in acknowledgement before turning his back to her, ready to go back to his home where he could rest and get something to eat after the long day he had had to endure.

“Wait…Taishiro!” The soft call of his name coming from the lips of a woman he didn’t know had him spinning around faster than she could ever possibly hope to comprehend. His hand clamping down around her mouth, allowing her to continue breathing through her mouth only because he refused to allow anyone to compare him to the disgusting trash that he had just taken out.

“Don’t. Say my name.” The words came out in a whispered warning as he leaned his head down so that he could stare deep into her eyes, trying to work out how she knew his name and not what he went by as a villain. There was a big difference between the two.

“How do you know that name? Are you a hero? Sent by one? Answer by nodding or shaking your head, I’m not giving you the opportunity to scream for help” He kept his voice low as he spoke, watching the smaller woman give an instant shake of her head; her wide eyes staring so earnestly into his own that he couldn’t help but believe her.

Unfortunately, that didn’t solve the issue of how she knew his name. It didn’t make sense to him and he couldn’t think of any scenario where she would come to know of it, Taishiro was antisocial. He wasn’t always, no, but it had been a long time since he had last enjoyed going out with friends and enjoying the freedom of young life.

“If you know that name, then you know what I could do to you to keep you quiet, don’t you?” He watched as the woman gave a slight nod of her head, her eyes never leaving his while he threw around ideas of what to do with her around in his head.

“Then you have a choice. Nod your head if you’ll come with me quietly and we can have a…chat, about what’s going to happen to you if you tell anyone what you know, shake your head if you’re stupid enough to try and scream while we go have a chat. Make your choice carefully, little woman” Taishiro spoke with a fierceness that he kept for those that were against him, wanting her to be fully aware of the danger that she could possibly be in. It all depended on her answer, but luckily for her, she was smart.

The nod of her head causing Taishiro to slowly remove his hand, hesitating slightly as he waited for her to try something stupid and scream out like he had warned again; though no sound escaped her. The woman in front of him simply stayed where she was, watching him with a quiet calmness; her hands fidgeting with the edge of her long-sleeve top.

“Seems like you do have a brain…alright then, you and me are gonna have ourselves a nice little chat” Taishiro grunted low as he spoke, lifting the woman over his shoulder with his arm around her legs to keep her steady; resisting the urge to snicker at the hands he felt smack against his back.

It was only once though and it was easy enough for him to work out that she was using his back to brace herself while he began his journey back to his home; and while it wasn’t his first choice, it was his only choice right now.

~ ~ ~

You gulped nervously as you sat in a kitchen that you assumed belonged to the giant that sat across from you, his large arms cross over his chest while he watched you with narrowed eyes; his lips drawn into a thin unimpressed line.

“I…you want to know how I know your name…right?” You asked the question hesitantly, wanting to get the silence over with before it could drag out any longer. When you first spoke his name about half an hour ago, you had thought it a terrible mistake given how quickly he had turned to you with his hand over your mouth.

At the time, you honestly believed that he was going to kill you despite the fact he had saved you from a fate that you didn’t particularly wish to think about.

“Might be a good place to start sweetheart. Not many know that name anymore.” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the unimpressed look not leaving his features while you fidgeted where you sat; lightly chewing on your bottom lip as you tried your best to arrange the words in your mind properly. It wasn’t the time to be making small mistakes, unfortunately though, it also wasn’t the time to be wasting his time by trying to make your sentences perfect.

“Well, it isn’t…we’ve met before. You saved me then too, but I think you were drunk that night, maybe? I really don’t know, but you saved me and then took me home” You offered the explanation somewhat quietly, speaking only loud enough for him to hear your words clearly, not entirely sure if he would believe you; even though you were telling the truth.

“I’m a villain. You know it and for some reason, despite knowing that. Here you are, sitting there nervous but unafraid. Why? Because I saved you? That’s naive” He sneered the observation at you, leaning forwards in the chair that he sat on to rest his arms against the table between the two of you; his gaze so intense that even though you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“If you were going to hurt me, I think you would have done it by now…besides, I’ve known your name for an entire year now and I haven’t said a thing to anyone. I’m not trying to bring you any trouble” He scoffed at your words, tapping his finger against the table while running his eyes over you slowly; for what reason you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was to see if you were lying or not, it was impossible to judge since you weren’t the man in question.

“Then what do you want? What are you after? Why put yourself in this position?” His demanding questions made you more nervous than his scrutiny.

Before tonight happened, that horrible encounter with some drunken pervert, you could happily observe the giant of a man without him realising. Not stalk him, per se, but every time you happened to come across him; you could take the opportunity to admire the villain that you had developed feelings for.

It certainly wasn’t one of your best moments, falling for him. However, he had saved you a year ago and then again tonight. Each time you saw him, even if he was doing something against the law, it wasn’t hurting people’s lives unnecessarily that you could see and even if it did.

Well, you weren’t entirely certain you would care anymore. Taishiro Toyomitsu was important to you and now you had him sitting across from you with his full attention. Asking all the questions that could only lead to a single answer.

“You should probably answer me while I’m willing to listen to you. I might not be like the filth that was on top of you earlier, but I won’t object to killing you if I ha–”

“I don’t want anything! I’m keeping quiet because I’ve fallen for you!”

Your face burned with a mix of embarrassment and humiliation, being left with no alternative than to confess your one-sided feelings. The words leaving Taishiro wide-eyed and suitably speechless for a moment; his mouth falling open, and any words he had to say unable to leave his lips.

If you hadn’t just confessed to him, it might have been giggle-worthy. But considering that you had, it filled you with unease; having no idea what to expect from the silence that currently suffocated you.

“...You’re kidding, right?” The disbelief in his voice made you frown, annoyance building at the fact that you had spoken your feelings honestly and the giant of a man that you had fallen for didn’t believe you. It was insulting, even if you did partially understand where his doubts could be coming from.

“No. I’m not…it isn’t just something I said to get out of having you kill me either.” You stood up as you spoke, glaring down at him while he stared up at you, an unknown emotion swirling within his honeyed gaze. A slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t just see you when you somehow end up saving me…I see you walking through the streets, enjoying the food stalls when it’s so busy that you could get away with showing your face in public and when there are less-known villains that close in on the area. Do you not think people notice what you do around here? You might be a villain now but there are old habits from your early days as a pro-hero and don’t bother trying to deny it!” You couldn’t stop yourself from the words that managed to slip past your tongue, realising that it wasn’t the smartest idea to shout at the man that had both saved you and had the ability to end your life before you could be a liability to him.

On the same note, if there was a possibility that you were going to die anyway, you might as well say how you feel. Especially since you had been somewhat forced to announce your feelings to him, you had so very little to lose now.

Taishiro rose from his seat slowly, uttering not even a single sound as he stepped around the table that separated the two of you; two steps before he was standing in front of you with his thumb resting on your jaw and his forefinger curled beneath your chin, tilting your head back so that he could look down into your eyes.

His expression giving nothing away to you. No anger. No amusement. No curiosity. Just a blank stare that had your heart thundering in your ears.

“So, you know all that…and you’re brave enough, or should I say stupid enough, to shout it at me while I’m threatening your safety.” Taishiro leaned down as he spoke quietly, his nose lightly brushing against yours while you watched him with wide eyes, holding your breath simply because you were certain that if you made even the slightest of movements; that he would kill you right then and there.

“I guess you wouldn’t mind it then, little miss courageous, if I were to do this…”

His lips came in contact with yours a second after the words left him, demanding and warm against your own until your body started to respond. You didn’t quite understand what was going on, your brain hadn’t caught up and was still trying to process everything, but your body? Your body responded eagerly.

Your hands moved to his chest, fisting the light material of his shirt while his hands fell to your waist, pulling you closer to his body until you were pressed against him tightly; a position you’ve only been able to dream about up until this point in time.

When he pulled his head away slightly, just enough to allow you to breathe once more, you couldn’t stop yourself from whining low in disappointment; the sound pulling a light-hearted chuckle from Taishiro while his lips began to ghost over your jawline, slowly dipping lower and lower as he explored the skin that he could get to.

His hands surprisingly staying on your hips, keeping you close but not invading your personal space any more than that.

“I guess you really didn’t mind, if that adorable little whine is anything to go by” His teasing words resulted in you smacking your hand against his chest lightly, the other still grasping onto his shirt tightly; refusing to let go in case this was another one of your blissful dreams that teased you in only the worst ways.

“So what if I didn’t? I told you…didn’t I? How I felt…” You trailed off quietly, leaning down to rest your forehead against his broad shoulder, allowing yourself to enjoy the feel of his mouth against your skin before your dream came to an end.

At this point, it was 50/50 as to whether or not you were hallucinating to make your encounter in the alleyway seem like a distant problem, or if it was truly happening. But right now, you didn’t want to find out.

“I don’t exactly know you well enough to have feelings for you, for most that might bring up problems” His words made sense to you, however that didn’t mean that they meant a thing to you.

His point was well-made, of course. But you hadn’t exactly asked him to feel the same, merely confessed your own feelings. It wasn’t his responsibility to decide right then and there as to whether he felt the same way you did. That would be ridiculous.

“I’m not asking you to say anything like that.” You kept your feelings on the matter simple, not wanting to start a rambled speech of nonsense that would only ruin the strangely calm, enjoyable mood that had settled over the both of you. Likely due to the way his lips glided over your skin.

“Then what is it that you’re asking of me?” His question surprised you, your mouth dropping open while your brain struggled to come up with a response for him. Mostly because you didn’t exactly have one. It wasn’t like you had expected him to feel the same way you do, or for him to even remember saving you in the first place.

Your confession of feelings was simply the most truthful way to answer his demands as to why you kept his identity a secret. Though his height basically made that impossible. It was one of the few things about the blonde giant that baffled you.

“I…I’m not asking anything of you, I understand that there’s no reason for you to even know me, let alone love me. But you asked me a question and I tried to answer it as honestly as I could” You gave yourself a mental pat on the back for sounding as strong as you did, though slightly out of breath.

That wasn’t because of fear or a lack of courage to speak to Taishiro though. It was simply because his mouth was working wonders on some of the most sensitive places on your neck and it was starting to make your head spin violently.

Every lick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth and gentle suck on the spots that he had taken the time to shower with his rough attention; it all felt amazing to you and you wanted to ask him for more. The only downside is that you would just be another fuck to him; unlike him, who would end up being someone deeply special to yourself.

“Then if you aren’t asking for my feelings, would you settle for my touch?” His question came out in a low growl of curiosity that lit your skin on fire wherever his lips touched, your thighs pressing together slowly at the mere thought of having him between them.

You were touch starved and the first to admit it, all because no other man could compare to the villain in front of you. Not in your mind and finding small-time villains wasn’t enough to get your heart racing.

And now, the solution had presented itself to you shamelessly but you were seriously debating whether or not you should accept it. Like a god-damned fool.

“Your…touch…two minutes ago you wanted me out of your hair” You couldn’t stop the half-hearted chuckle that escaped you, your eyes dropping down to his while he simply grinned back up at you, nipping at the edge of your shirt teasingly; going no further without your say so. Surprising for a villain, but you appreciated it all the same.

“And now I want you in my bed, on my tongue, my fingers and wrapped around my cock.” Your face burned fiercely at his words. The heat that radiated off of your cheeks enough to toast marshmallows had you had any on hand.

“I…yes, I would settle for your touch Taishiro.” You spoke softly, gasping out in surprise when he stood up to his full height, lifting you into his strong arms as he did so; the action seeming to take little to no effort from the giant.

“You’re an interesting woman.” He chuckled as he walked through the apartment at a quick pace, passing by doorways and open rooms until he came up to the only closed door. A swift kick causing it to burst open while simultaneously startling you. Which wasn’t such a hard thing to achieve if you were being entirely honest with yourself.

“So are you going to bother telling me your name? Or are you just going to be a nameless fuck for me?” He questioned you while laying you down on the large bed in the room, his hands effortlessly tugging your clothes free from your body; revealing yourself to him entirely.

“You mean, you’re actually interested in my name?” You gasped out faintly as his large hands closed around your thighs, spreading them so that he could run his tongue along your folds slowly; the warmth that shot through you addictive.

“Are you going to make me ask a second time?” Taishiro didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he looked up into your eyes, a deep hunger beginning to surface while you squirmed beneath him; enjoying the feel of his tongue against you.

“(Name).”

He hummed low in response, holding onto your thighs firmly and keeping them spread so that he could continue with his task of exploration. Each slow stroke of his tongue pulling soft whines and quiet moans from your lips, your reluctance to moan properly due to the embarrassment of having him watch your reactions so closely.

“You sound almost as good as you taste, (Name)” He muttered out the words in a low rumble as he began to kiss his way up along your body, large hands sliding up along over the spots that his lips graced until they left your body altogether in order to press into the mattress on either side of you. Allowing him to keep his balance above you while his head came to hover above your own, his tongue sliding along his lips to lick away the slick that had spread over them from when he sampled your taste.

“I think it would be better if you weren’t holding yourself back” You looked away as he spoke, squirming beneath him. Naked and vulnerable to everything he had to offer.

“I think this is the best you’re getting for the moment” You spoke softly, gasping out when his hand closed around the bottom half of your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks as he turned your head so that he could look you in the eyes once more. Displeasure reflecting within his honeyed orbs.

“I take no pleasure in taking from an unwilling partner. I can’t decide whether everything is just a show so that you could keep breathing, or if you’ve lost your nerve at the last moment…but do not try to lie to me with your body, because it will win you no favours” He practically growled out the words at you while you could do little more than stare up into his annoyed gaze, wishing that you weren’t so awkward in such a moment.

“I haven’t lost my nerve, if anything I’ve just gained a hundred of them. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a giant compared to me and it makes me a little nervous like this. Excuse me for being human!” You huffed out the words while he blinked slowly, clearly taking a moment to process the information before slowly sitting back, his hands landing on your thighs; rubbing slow circles into the soft skin.

“Tell me then, (Name). Have you ever been fucked before?” You wanted to hit him. You honestly wanted to hit him for that question, but he seemed oblivious to the fact, continuing to watch you while your mouth fell open and your brain decided to fail you for a proper response.

“I’ll take that as a yes” He snorted at your reaction, giving a lazy roll of his hips and causing his large cock to rub up along your folds, your slick coating him in a generous amount with just a single movement. You would be embarrassed, but you were much too busy whining at the feel of him against you; impossibly large and about to be buried inside of you.

You blinked in confusion when Taishiro moved away from you, instead positioning himself at the head of the bed, getting himself comfortable in a sitting position before motioning over to you with a quick flick of his wrist.

If you were to take a guess, you assumed he wanted you in his lap. However, you couldn’t quite put your finger on why, the position you were just in had been fine; it was your nerves that was the problem.

“Hurry it up midget, before I change my mind and fuck you face-first into the mattress!”

You jumped at his words, crawling your way over to him and allowing him to pull you close to his chest the moment you were within arms’ reach; a not-so-quiet gasp falling from your lips when you felt his dick press against your folds.

Taishiro made no effort to thrust himself inside of you, instead moving one hand to your waist, while the other helped you get settled in his lap; making sure that you were both steady and comfortable. Not exactly something you expected from the villainous giant, but certainly, something that you appreciated given everything that had happened that day.

“Alright, here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to guide my dick inside you, as much as you can take before you start feeling discomfort” He paused, sending you a pointed look before moving his hand between your bodies and guiding the tip of his dick to your folds; slowly rubbing along them to give you a moment to adjust yourself to the idea of it, of him, being inside of you.

“Once you’re good, you’ll be in control for a little. I’ll let you decide how much you can take at a time and then when you can take all of me, I’ll take over again. You understand?” You nodded slowly at his question, nervously chewing on your bottom lip while moving your hands to his shoulders, the warmth of his skin beneath yours somehow enough to settle the butterflies in your stomach. Some of them anyhow.

“Good girl…don’t expect this every time we fuck either” He groaned out quietly as he spoke, your moan just barely louder than his words as he thrust himself inside of you slowly, spreading you around his impressively thick cock.

“Every time?” You spoke the words before you could stop yourself, the slight wince that you were unable to hide causing Taishiro to move his hands to your hips, holding you in place and preventing you from taking any more of him inside of you for the time being.

The disapproving click of his tongue following soon after.

“Yes, every time. I asked if you would settle for my touch, I didn’t specify that it would be a once off…if you can take what I have to offer, then some effort on my part might be called for”

He hummed faintly as he moved a hand to brush a strand of your hair off of your cheek, his thumb ghosting over your lips while his eyes studied you closely, taking in any movement you made. If it were anyone else, you were certain that you would be uncomfortable, but since it was Taishiro. Well, you found yourself enjoying the attention more and more as time passed.

“Though I don’t promise anything more than a good fuck” He muttered the words plainly, flicking his gaze up to yours for a brief moment before allowing his eyes to return to wherever it was he was currently studying; possibly his hand that had settled on the base of your neck. His fingers lightly brushing against the soft skin.

“So then, you don’t mind my company?” You tilted your head as you spoke, slowly leaning your head closer to his own; using your hold on his shoulders to steady yourself so that you didn’t end up hurting yourself by accidentally taking in more of him than you were ready to.

“Now that I know you’re harmless, not particularly” He raised an eyebrow as you smiled, happy with his answer and even going as far as to kiss him tenderly. About to pull your head away before he surprised you by kissing back eagerly.

Sure, he had been the one to kiss you first. But you had honestly believed that to be a quick way for him to test how serious you had been about your confession. The idea of him kissing you because he felt like it, was a little harder to grasp.

“What’s the matter? Weren’t expecting the big bad villain to kiss you back?” He chuckled loudly when you pulled your head away from his, cheeks burning and eyes wide; shock clearly being your new favourite expression after the night you were currently experiencing.

“Silly woman, I expected you to know better” His head dropped lower as he spoke, your eyes following after him while his mouth closed around one of your nipples, sharp canines grazing the sensitive bud; causing you to gasp out in pleasure. Your back arching ever-so-slightly.

Needing a way to get back at him for the way he was finding his entertainment in the moment, you took a deep breath and gave a heavy roll of your hips; taking in as much of his dick as you possibly could.

Your mouth fell open when Taishiro bucked his hips, the action sending a burning hot jolt of pleasure through your body. You were positive, no matter how crazy it sounded in your mind, that the fat tip of his dick was pressed up against your cervix and the fact that you enjoyed the sensation as much as you did made you want to crawl your way out of the room and hide away for the rest of your young life.

“You know…” Taishiro trailed off as he teased your nipple with his hot tongue, giving a firm nip before lifting his head so that he could look you in the eye; amusement reflecting from within his honeyed gaze.

“The idea of me letting you have some control over this, was so that you could take your time and adjust” He paused, sliding his hands along your body and down to your arse, cupping the soft cheeks before digging his fingers into them roughly; allowing him to lift your body off of his throbbing dick slowly.

Leaving only the tip nestled comfortably within your entrance, the low whine that left you signalling your displeasure with the decision.

“It wasn’t so that you could rush yourself!”

With the annoyed growl that left him, Taishiro gave a harsh thrust of his hips, using his hold on you to pull you down onto his lap harshly; the force of his actions ripping his name from your lips in a scream with little effort. A satisfied smirk decorating his features.

“Then again, I think I like it. You’re just as helpless like this, as you are on your back beneath me” You wanted to argue his chuckled remark, but it was impossible to find the words while he continued to manhandle you.

Lifting your body, only to pull you back down onto his dick without mercy. Sharp teeth catching the soft flesh of your breasts every time they happened to catch his eye.

Everything about this man right now was a contradiction to his villainous self and granted, you knew that he was more than just the villain he let people see, it was still hard to process. Though that could be due to the way your mind would just blank out every few seconds, having Taishiro’s cock pounding against your cervix wasn’t so great for keeping your train of thoughts it seemed.

“Look at you, look at how beautiful you are when you’re being destroyed by my cock…” Taishiro stared up at you in wonder as you tilted your head down, staring down at him with a dazed expression and lidded eyes; your mouth opening to question him on why he would bother saying such a thing before yet another scream left your lips instead. Your back arching from the burning pleasure that he sent racing throughout your body with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Taishiro’s hand moved faster than you could predict while you did your best to bounce yourself on his dick, a loud cry of surprise escaping you as he slapped your arse harshly; the stinging sensation soon followed by a pleasure that you couldn’t quite explain.

“Don’t give me that look, it was a reward for being so good” Taishiro leaned up to nip along your jaw as he purred out the praise, a quiet snicker hidden beneath your loud whines and moans of pleasure; the perfect cover to hide his endless amusement.

“Sounds like someone enjoys getting spanked” The shamelessly uttered words made you whine out loudly in protest before burying your face against the crook of his neck, not bothering to try and hide your enjoyment of the situation.

Instead, you simply let yourself be submerged in the pleasure. Your moans growing louder and more desperate as Taishiro continued to fuck you, the pace quickly becoming too much for you to keep up with, prompting him to change your positions; though he seemed to refuse the idea of taking a quick break to do so.

Taishiro had you on your back on the bed in no time at all, his hands moving from your ass up to your wrists and pinning them above your head so that you were unable to do little more than enjoy the way he continued to slam into you without care or mercy.

Each thrust seemed to drag you closer and closer to the edge, an unbearable heat building in the very pit of your stomach while Taishiro’s mouth explored your body, teeth digging into your soft and previously unmarked skin. Leaving behind bruises and bite marks to make sure that anyone that spared you a glance would know that you had someone to satisfy your every need.

“You’re getting tighter…”

Taishiro barely got out the words in a choked-out moan, his grip on your wrists tightening ever-so-slightly while you continued to whimper and gasp out in pleasure beneath him, your legs trembling as he kept burying his large dick inside of you.

You couldn’t even respond to him, managing a couple of out-of-breath gasps before his name tore itself from your throat in the form of a loud, pleasure-filled shout. Your orgasm rocking through your entire body while his hips moved harder and faster.

His brutal pace lasted only a few more seconds before his hips jerked suddenly, burying every inch he had to offer inside of you and filling you with his seed. The sensation new and strange to you as you came down from one of the most intense orgasms that you had ever had. Having one from getting fucked senseless entirely different from inducing one yourself, as you had just learnt.

“Fuck…I really should have pulled out for that…” Taishiro breathed heavily as he released your wrists, slowly leaning back so that he was sitting between your thighs, still buried deep inside of you; seemingly in no hurry to remove himself.

“Fuck it, you’ll stay the night. I’ll just buy you plan B tomorrow morning” He grumbled out a solution lowly before his hands began brushing over the bite marks that he had left behind in an almost soothing way; stopping once he noticed you staring up at him.

Though you were more than a little dazed, still trying to blink away the black spots in your vision.

“If I move us to the bathroom, you think you can go another round? Little miss (Name)?”

You gave a slow nod of your head at his question, unable to feel the embarrassment that you otherwise would have while he removed himself from your still trembling body; his large arms scooping you up as carefully as he could manage.

“Poor woman, when I’m finally done with you tonight you’re going to be stuck in bed for a whole week” He chuckled low, paying your wide-eyed stare no mind as he made his way through the apartment; whistling a low, happy tune to himself with a rather large grin on his lips.

“Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure you love every second of it. All you gotta do is keep up. You can do that right?”

#fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro x reader #bnha x reader #toyomitsu x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #reader x taishiro #reader x toyomitsu #reader x fatgum #villain!fatgum #villain au #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #requests #cheeky kitsune

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monkiebois · 1 year

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I have a question, what do you do when you get stuck with a chapter? I mean you already know what the chapter will be about but you don't know how to express the idea?

(I love your work! Keep up the good work)

Thank you, im so glad you like my stuff!! :DDDDDD

-------------------------------------

maaaaaan

see this is a BIG problem for me.

hell im stuck rn. for multiple reasons and with multiple fics lol. i just havent been able to write in a while for a buttload of reasons i wont get into.

but because this is a big problem for me ive got some advice for u buddy. there are a few things you can do, some is general advice and others is methods i use. note that everyone is different and some methods work well for some and wont work for others.

REST

thats my first piece of advice. dont stress about it. dont beat yourself up bc ur not writing. sometimes inspiration will come and sudddenly your hands will end up moving on thier own. but sometimes you just need the rest. its okay if you spend a day not writing. hell its okay if you spend a WEEK not writing. if your writing something something for you your supposed to enjoy it. this brings me to my next point.

WRITE IT FOR YOU

write it for yourself, especially if its a published work on ao3/wattpad/whatever...

i know it happened to me and tends to happen quite a bit even with my other content. you get too wrapped up in "comments, views, kudos, likes whatever..." your best work comes when you are enjoying what you're making and sometimes when you get too into that mindset suddenly its not fun anymore.

make it for you.

DISCIPLINE

sometimes you rest for too long, sometimes inspiration doesnt come. sometimes youve gotta sit your butt down and make yourself write. do you think its bad? doesnt matter.

whatever you end up writing down on that paper is progress. its a first draft and you can always come back to it later and make it even better then it was.

i know its hard and i really need to expercise this more.

i havent updated on ao3 in a while bc i keep going back to my drafts and think "man.....this is shit" or theres just this feeling like im hitting my head against a wall of bricks expecting it to crumblr for me but nothings happening.

so you really just gotta force youself to write sometimes. and there are some methods i use to help me.

REWRITE THE CHAPTER

yeah. its rough. but sometimes you gotta. what you have isnt working. so you just need to redo everything to get back into the groove. the flow.

i gotta do this with a new chapter im trying to write for longing for more. i already wrote like three thousand words but its not right at all so im redoing the whole thing when i have time.

SKIP THAT BIT

this has actually helped me ALOT.

so bassically if your stuck on a specific part of a chapter.....skip it. just skip it.

when i was writing longing for more the chapter where Mk talks to the lady bone demon in the dining room is one that i usedthis method for.

i wrote the first two paragraphs and then did a little "(they talk blah blah add something about this and then that and dont forget the thing)

and then i wrote the scene where mk escapes and the chase. i wrote that whole scene before i wrote the conversation they have because i had NO idea what to add in that scene. i was stuck. so i just skipped it and when i wrote something i had alot of ideas for i could come back and write that scene later.

and it worked. im really proud of how that scene turned out.

so if you need to just skip it and replace it with a little note (in these things i always forget what they're called) to remind yourself what goes there

MUSIC

Music is my greatest tool to help me write. idk how to explain it cause sometimes what im listening to while writing a scene doesnt make sense.

i think it wasssssss.

i dont remember which scene it was but i remember writing something REALLY sad to "vending machine of love". like gut wrenching sad.

funny stuff.

but yeah, music helps me get in the mood and visualize whats going on.

----------------------

the most important thing here though is enjoy what your doing. dont pressure yourself or just be too hard on yourself in general. cause then its no fun anymore and makes EVERYTHING so much harder.

so have fun, dont worry about other people, dont be hard on yourself. enjoy it.

#ask #shadowdoodles

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rsmrymnt-tea · 2 years

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「 🐳 」 hello! i haven't forgotten about your response—i was unfortunately hit with a series of ✧˖˚ unfortunate events ˚˖✧ (yes... pun intended for the sake of lightheartedness <3) shortly after the response, and i needed time to recover. i've decided to join you along the ride for the obm asks!

1.) how did you first get into obey me? personally, i was playing swd games for quite some time before obey me was released in december of 2019, so once i saw an ad for it i told myself, “well! another silly otome game from them to pass the time”, ahh i was so wrong with just how much flavor it had in all of it's terrible, atrocious glory.

satan was the first one to cause me to go into a miserable spiral once i had a revelation of what his birth actually meant, and thus, began spewing my silly little analyses to the small fandom at the time. i no longer go on longer tangents about satan as much as i do solomon (and recently, mephistopheles due to how noble his values are and how little people seem to realize it), but if i dare see someone in favor of obsessive cat-lover satan i have no issues with bashing their head against a digital brick wall and arguing that he is the least likely of the brothers to be obsessive over anything that falls into that category.

16.) what is your intimacy level with each character? i've often gotten a lot of teasing remarks from friends for my levels, but,

lucifer — 25

mammon — 17

leviathan — 20

satan — 34

asmodeus — 18

beelzebub — 19

belphegor — 20

diavolo — 15

barbatos — 22 (slowly but surely making his way up there)

luke — 14 (i am so sorry you are below diavolo, dearest luke)

simeon — 40

solomon — 42, but nearly 43

“i wonder who their favorite is” gee guys thanks i do whatever i can for the sake of my mc's lore ♡ thank you very much /lh

as always, feel free to include dolasach for whatever reason you feel like if something i said reminded you of her hehe~

Whale nonnie!!! So good to see you!! I'm glad that you got to bounce back from whatever happened to you!! I hope it wasn't too bad and that you're fully okay now >w<

Oml the first question though

1. how did you first get into obey me?

THE WEDDING EVENT oough man I don't even recall how I ended up watching videos of the wedding event but I did and Satan's pulled me in so bad that I downloaded the game >.< flavor in the midst of atrocity is such a good way to describe the game dfhkdfg

Also??? Nonnie now I'm curious if I've ever seen your posts omg? I feel like you'd have such good posts on all three... I've got this feeling that I've probably seen a Satan post or that a Mephisto post of yours helped him rise up my ranks >.<

And I feel you so much on thinking he wouldn't really obsess over anything that simple, even more so to the point of it clouding his judgement and rendering him useless in important moments... Just so counter to the core of his character that aspires towards being well-rounded and useful? Anyway I'm trying to stay mostly positive here hdsdfg

16. what is your intimacy level with each character?

GOSH I had to check...

Lucifer - 24

Mammon - 11

Leviathan - 17

Satan - 33

Asmo - 16

Beel - 16

Belphie - 23

Diavolo - 18

Barbatos - 25

Solomon - 31 (only because it took forever to get a Solomon UR I liked the art of, otherwise he'd be the same as Satan lmao probably higher since you can actually get big hearts with him without gifts...)

Simeon - 23

Luke - 2 (dsfjkhsdf sorry I just never use any Luke cards and using him in Jobs feels weird bc ykno... child labor >.>;;)

Surprisingly representative of how much I enjoy their character...? Except that every brother + Simeon needs to be higher than the royals sdhfkjg Barb's bday UR is just too pretty to not use...

Nonnie I feel you with needing the levels for more lore... The calls!! I need the calls!! But it takes sooo fucking long to grind for intimacy

I feel like each time you drop by I get more and more shocked and curious about who you might be... I'm still listening a lot to the playlist you sent and each time I hear Bird Song I think about you suggesting it and what you said about Dola shdkfhdsfg insane really....

#chat & colloquy #🐳 nonnie!!#insane that youve been around that long tbh holy hell #<-saying that even tho one of my fav games/franchises i've been into more than half my life

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sugarcherriess · 2 years

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that’s so cute i refuse to think about it. SO. going to join in on the juyeon big hands thing and say i think he knows how intimidating they are bc he’s super sweet and gentle with them 🥹 🐶

I wish you had given me a brick wall with this thought to hit my head against. Soft gentle juyo………. Im going to sob like a heart broken crackhead outside an abandoned Wendy’s

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Adonis Speaks #˚₊·➴ My Lovely 🐶#JUYEO #JUJU #YOUR HANDS #GIVE #PALLI JIGEUM #RN

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

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.

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“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!

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