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#and the urge has gotten bigger and bigger this year so here we are then 😌
dandelion-wings ¡ 9 months
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kaeya, 34? I love your writing!
Thank you! :> I was rotating this one a bit because I was trying to move away from the usual suspects (I love the kind of confrontation that line suggests with both Diluc and Jean, but I've written Kaeya a lot with them lately), and that led me to a very fun thought, so I hope you enjoy it too!
I looked up a bunch of Hilichurlian for this and even bashed together an equivalent sentence, and then... did not end up using it because the lexicon on the wiki doesn't have two words that were too important to this dialogue to substitute, so. Translation convention holds instead!
ETA: Now archived on AO3.
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It isn't the first time Kaeya has killed a hilichurl.
Everyone goes rabid, for a little while, when the final transformation takes them. Not forever; they come back eventually, though 'to themselves' would be an exaggeration. The person who was is not the person who is now. But they become a person again, given the chance. It's just not always safe to give them that chance. Kaeya has had to defend himself before.
But there's defending himself, and then there's picking a fight. Diluc has decided to do the latter.
"Come on," he urges when Kaeya hesitates in the bushes where they're hiding to spy out the hilichurl camp. "It's good practice! You'll be an apprentice knight next year, and you'll be expected to be able to handle a hilichurl or two. I'll take care of the samachurl, if you want."
Kaeya swallows and looks up at the bright-eyed, flame-haired, too-passionate boy he's supposed to be pretending is his brother. "Do we have to? They're not doing anything."
What they're doing, actually, is a ritual dance. Kaeya isn't sure which one it is. The hilichurl culture here in Mondstadt is similar to those he knows, but it has its differences. All the same, there's the fire, and the dancing, and the samachurl conducting. And the hilichurls are too relaxed, too happy to be dancing with each other and too tragically unwary, for it to even be a pre-battle ritual.
He's not supposed to know all of that, though. He can't tell Diluc. Honestly, he doubts that Diluc would even care. All he cares about is gaining more glory in the Knights, and his father's praise in turn.
No, that's uncharitable. He cares about Kaeya's success, too. When Diluc has good fortune--and the blessed of Celestia always seem to have good fortune--he wants to spread it around. He just doesn't understand that not everyone wants what he so generously tries to share. Kaeya doesn't need glory or a false father's empty praise. He needs to carry out the mission he came for, and do his duty to the remains of Khaenri'ah. Of which these hilichurls are part.
(He does have dispensation for this. He'd written a personal note to go with his ciphered observations into a dead-drop when he'd realized that his mission was going to take him into the Knights, and thus to this, and had actually gotten an answer. Not from his true father, as he'd secretly hoped, but the only sign since he was left here that anyone in the Order still cares. "Sacrifices are necessary for the greater good," the answer had read, in an unfamiliar hand. "Your duty matters more."
It wasn't until Kaeya had double-checked his decryption and confirmed the words that he realized that what he'd been hoping for was not dispensation, but release. This message was only confirmation that he wasn't allowed to go home. Unlike his father's words, snatched from the fire, the missive hadn't been difficult to make himself burn.)
"They're not doing anything now," Diluc says, "but if we don't deal with them soon, they'll only be a bigger threat later. The hilichurls up by the gorge are always pushing this way. Let them spread, and we'll end up with them on the Dawn Winery, in among the vines."
Where there's food easy to find, sweet grapes on the vine and boars in plenty. Kaeya doesn't see how Diluc can blame them. What do they have in the winters, up there in the wilds that Mondstadt's own people have decided aren't worth settling? But that's not the argument an admiring little brother can have with his brave, heroic, just-knighted elder. He can get away with hesitation, even protest, but not reasoned logic. And certainly not with horror. Not if he's pretending to be someone who's always lived under this sky.
"Okay," he says, rising from his hiding place and drawing his sword. He can't hide his reluctance, but Diluc seems to take it for timidity and just gives him a grin and a nudge with his shoulder before charging at the hilichurls with a yell. Kaeya follows a few feet after.
The hilichurls break off their dance and scramble for weapons at Diluc's so-convenient warning. Kaeya bites back the urge to shout at them to run. Whether in their language or Mond, it would be obvious; it's not something that he can explain later, when Diluc inevitably has questions. Besides, they have no idea who he is, so why would they listen?
Diluc crashes into the pair with shields with his claymore alight, still shouting enthusiastic Ordo battlecries. His first two swipes stagger both of them, and he rushes on towards the samachurl with the two of them staggering behind, shouting in pain and fury, waving now-flaming clubs. That leaves the two with bows. One of them focuses on Diluc's back; Kaeya doesn't have to worry about that one. Or about Diluc, whose Vision lets him shake off far more than Kaeya thinks he even understands. But the one who turns its crossbow on Kaeya, that one has to be his concern.
"Stop," he mouths at the hilichurl, hoping it will understand.
The bow's Electro keeps charging. Kaeya dodges it twice, as in the corner of his eye Diluc continues to decimate the others, and then, with no choice left and Diluc moving, rushes forward and knocks the hilichurl over.
Kaeya sees the moment when it looks up and catches sight of the star in one eye and his grandfather's oversized eyepatch over the other and realizes, at least, something of who he is. "Brother," it croaks, and looks down then at his sword. "Are you going to kill me?"
It sounds young. Hilichurls always do, Kaeya has heard his father say, but that doesn't change that it speaks like a child, addressing him in the respectful register it might use for a lawachurl or a mage. It sounds young and it sounds afraid. Kaeya stands there, sword out, all too aware the screaming as Diluc roasts the other shooter alive on the end of his blade mere feet away from him, and has no idea how to answer.
(He's also heard his father say that most hilichurls were children. Those who change early most often become hilichurls; those who change later in their lives often become more powerful as all the strength they've gained in that time is twisted by the Abyss. Kaeya will live human long enough, grow strong enough, to be at least a herald, or so the mages have promised. But he had siblings once, when he was so young that he only vaguely remembers them as shadows. He was the only one who stayed human long enough to be entrusted with this plan.
He isn't this one's actual brother, not any more than he is Diluc's. But he could well have true brothers, and if so, they would look just like this.)
"Kaeya!" Diluc is beside him now, wreathed about with the reek of burning blood and charred flesh. His claymore is hefted high, still aflame. "Do you need me to take care of it?"
Burning, Kaeya thinks, is supposed to be a terrible way to die. He swallows again and raises his blade in a shaking hand.
"Sorry," he whispers, just loud enough for the hilichurl to hear, as he bends low and slides the tip of his blade under the mask and takes it straight in the eye, through to the brain, as swift and painless as he knows.
As he straightens, Diluc is looking at him with confusion marring his grin of pride. "What did you say?"
"Sorry," Kaeya repeats in Mond. "I- I choked up."
Diluc thumps him on the shoulder. "It's all right. It's hard the first time. It was for me, too. They almost seem like people."
Kaeya turns and looks at him, smiling wide, smeared with ash and hilichurl blood, his blade still burning, Celestia's blessing bright and hot at his hip. Hate rushes through him for this bright-eyed, flame-blessed, arrogant, ignorant boy. This is what Kaeya has to remember when the time comes to call them all to account and bring the false sky they think means freedom crashing down upon their heads. However kind these people are to the unsullied human they think he is, they'll never truly be his kin.
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electricbluebutterflies ¡ 3 months
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Chris/Melissa + i like myself better when i’m with you.
Post-6B, PG-ish, also on ao3.
The routine doesn’t change. The conversations do.
It has been years since Melissa has had reliable adult companionship – one of the few unfortunate elements of her life that can’t be blamed in some way on her involvement in the supernatural world, though that definitely doesn’t help – and she is inclined, for the moment, to take her current situation for what it is and, well…
She’s probably multiple decades too old to justify attempting a friends-with-benefits situation, but if that’s the easiest way to keep that man in her life, so be it.
He’s around every evening she’s not working, even though most of their coparenting responsibilities are currently elsewhere – most but not all, she reminds herself, they do still have Malia and her rampage through the local community college to keep an eye on – and it’s been different since whatever happened that one night that they don’t talk about, and-
“Why do you do this?” Melissa asks. It’s a Thursday in February, rainy outside, late, one of those nights she knows he’s going to stay but end up on the couch and blame it on weird vibes and-
“Do what, exactly?”
“Keep coming around, keep seeing me even though…”
They have not by any means had anything even close to a define-the-relationship conversation, and she doubts they ever will. Whatever internal damage Chris has that she’s decided she doesn’t want to know any more about than she has to, repression is definitely one of his bigger issues, and-
“I like myself better when I’m with you. Feels less…”
“I’m a distraction,” she interprets.
He crosses the space between them and puts his hands so lightly on her shoulders she could melt. “No. More than that.”
“Then what are we…”
“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to offer you my life? Because if that’s what you want I will-“
Melissa is unable to suppress the urge to say something that never ends anywhere she actually wants to go. “Is that normal for you?”
“Normal within my background, completely.”
He worries her sometimes, she thinks, and she hates that he worries her when she knows how capable he is, and-
“I’m not that kind of woman.”
“I know. That’s why I’m asking permission and not just going ahead and-“
“I don’t know what I want, but I’m not sure…”
“If you want me to leave-“
“I have never wanted you to leave. I know that much.”
She looks up at him and she wonders like she almost never lets herself wonder if maybe this is the start of something more, maybe they domesticate each other, maybe she sets some rules for her sanity but doesn’t try to change him like she usually does when she catches feelings for someone because that never ends well, maybe-
“I don’t want to pressure you into-“
“You could pressure me a little more. Or at least make your desires a little clearer because right now we’re so awkward and I don’t know what’s actually going on and-“
“What do you actually want? Realistic or not, what do you-“
“I want you to stay. Not just tonight but even the nights I’m working, just so someone’s here if something wounded and a species I don’t know about turns up on the porch. I want you to not stop when your hands get on my waist and you act like touching my skin is going to break me, because it won’t, and I want-“
“You realize how easy that all is, don’t you?”
“You have never tried to date as a single parent with multiple children who are as easily amused as they are loyal, and yes I know technically only one of them is actually mine but-“
“I would say all of them count. And I’m well aware what will happen to me if I do anything wrong by you, even or possibly especially by accident. They’re not subtle.”
“Well, you’re still into me even after the first round of threats, that’s further than-“
“Have they… had reason to do this since-“
“No, but I can’t imagine it’s gotten worse than the time with the paintball gun and I have no idea where they even got that, they were thirteen and I’m pretty sure-“
“Paintball gun?”
“You don’t wanna know, and I didn’t actually see it but I did hear three different versions of what happened and the two that should’ve matched didn’t…”
“No, I just had four different species remind me of their powers and how many other connections they have, I’m pretty sure…”
“Sounds relatively approving,” Melissa laughs. “You don’t have any injuries you didn’t bother to tell me about this time, do you?”
“Not even wounded pride.”
“That’s practically permission for a courthouse wedding from them. Not that I-“
“I don’t think I’m that type.”
“Remarriage, or…?”
“Wedding should mean something. Don’t know how normal people do it, but-“
“My first one was I was twenty-one and culturally Catholic so what I wanted was fairly low on the priority list and I don’t think anyone let me pick anything more significant than what color flowers I wanted, so…”
“Good to know. Not now or anytime soon, but-“
“Definitely not anytime soon. I’d like to sleep with you before we even talk about it.”
He’s quiet for almost a moment too long, quiet and still and-
“Understood. And if that… also takes time…”
“I may jump you. You could easily push me off, but-“
“I wouldn’t.”
“Good to know.”
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hourcat ¡ 1 year
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listen yall. you know it was gonna happen eventually. lets play this “last line of some WIPs” game and see what comes out of it! (under the cut for post size decency purposes)
THANK U TO MY BESTIES AND BELOVEDS @cerona14 ​ @finalgirlcharlesleclerc ​ @vegasgrandprix ​ @formula1squids ​ @singsweetmelodies ​ !!!! sorry for procrastinating i was hoping no one would be interested in the results i’m gonna give LMAO
(please note! the “ip” part of “wip” is very much applicable to the majority of these. enter at ur own peril.) 
[REDACTED] winter exchange fic
“You should sleep on it, calamar.”
Charles hums. “If I am in your bed, of course.” A slow smile. “I will beat you there.” And then he’s off—scurrying across the wooden floor, slipping like a cat as his socks slide in his pursuit, and Pierre yelps as he realizes—they’re racing again.
“Are you not tired of racing today, Charlo?” A squeak of laughter echoes from down the hall. “Oh my god—”
They sleep, tucked together, in Pierre’s double bed. It’s the most restful sleep he’s gotten in a year.
Good lord. Charles is screwed. Dumbly, he takes Pierre’s hand and shakes it, not missing the firmness of the Frenchman’s grasp. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Charles manages after a brief battle with his own tongue. “I look forward to having you spend time here with my beloved cousin, Monsieur Gasly.”
giveaway fic no. 1
The sharp smile seems to get bigger at Charles’ words. “Pierre, please,” he corrects, squeezing Charles’ hand firmly once more before releasing him. “I look forward to spending time here as well. Your home is lovely.” He hums, dropping his gaze only for a moment before looking back to Charles’ embarrassment-pink face. “Quite the sight for weary eyes, for certain.”
Fuck.
Pierre knows the feeling. "You've been keeping an eye out on the NFL rumors account, too, huh?"
nfl au
"What else am I going to do with this thing," he grumbles in response, using his free arm to gesture at his cast. "A week ago we were out partying with our teammates. Today I cannot even leave the couch except to go pee and go to sleep." He frowns. Pierre watches the little wrinkle between his eyebrows become more pronounced. "I have apparently been traded, cut, and terminated in the past 24 hours."
"Terminated?"
"Yes, like the movie." Charles pauses, then raises an eyebrow. "Come with me if you want to live." His accent is terrible but Pierre laughs all the same, buries his face a little more into his best friend's side. "They may fine me for being an undercover robot, but who cares."
"Mmm, so that's why you are so good."
"Please," Pierre begs the EMT loading Charles into the back of the ambulance, only the stretcher’s wheels visible behind the commotion of medical personnel and FIA supervisors buzzing around the area. "Please, you have to take me with you, please." There are tears pouring down his cheeks, he realizes distantly.
timeloop
The EMT just shakes his head, solemn and calm. "Sorry, son," he says. "Family only."
No no no. "But I am his family," he sobs, reaching helplessly as the doors firmly lock shut. "Please, please, he is—CHARLES!"
And then Charles slaps at his chest again, sinks his fingers into Pierre’s shoulder to draw him back into his space, and the brief pang of guilt dissipates entirely. Charles wants him. Pierre is going to have him in a way no one else will ever have him again. For tonight…for tonight, Charles is Pierre’s.
*whispers* secret virgin fic
“Charlo,” he murmurs, pressing a hand flat to the flesh of Charles’ thigh to urge it up. “Up, Cha. Let me take care of you.” Charles goes easily. “There we go.”
“Pierre,” he says hoarsely. “Pierre, please, can you—”
“Easy, mon amour,” Pierre interrupts with a squeeze. “Let me make this good for you.”
okay i think literally everyone who i would normally tag has been tagged lmao. PLEASE CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED IF YOU WANT TO DO THIS!!!!!
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russilton ¡ 1 year
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The slight touch aversion might have to do with his father not having been very affectionate and how he used to get into fist fights as a kid, right? So there'll always be an instinctive flight/fight response to it, when it comes unexpectedly and/or from a stranger, as in the video someone linked. But it really seems like a knee jerk reaction instead of a concious decision most of the time, because we've seen the man having no care for personal space around Angela and Bono, just to name two examples (F1 related, obviously, private friends and his family are an entirely different thing too) and he handles and often enough initiates casual touches as well as everyone else woul and does, as long as they're on his terms, so to speak. So it's not like he makes a point of not giving hugs or clasping shoulders, it's nothing drastic, but there is something deeply rooted that shows itself from time to time when he's not actively controlling it? I think that's what you were saying too, or how I understood it.
But then that's what I like so much about George walking behind him and resting his hand on the neck (the neck! Out of all places. Can we talk about this?), it's not like Lewis was looking, not likely that he would've seen, yet he doesn't flinch away. I've never thought about this before, but that means much on a subconcious level. Of course George is his teammate, but then that doesn't have to mean anything, does it? Him and Nico didn't let each other casually close like this at the end even though they had obviously been super comfortable around each other for years on end before that. I don't think Lewis actively thinks about trusting George tbh, I don't even think he'd interpret simple touches like this as signs of trust (I wouldn't have either, if I hadn't been prompted to really think about them as such) but given his struggles that you mentioned and that can occasionally shine through... huh. And that's just his "pov", there's another one too.
George comes across as a little shy and hesitant sometimes (when it comes to Lewis, that is), at least in my opinion. He doesn't have any aversion to touch, but he is very socially aware of himself, if you could call it that and so I think he would be careful about giving in to a simple urge, like reaching out for Lewis like this. He wouldn't be actively thinking about it if it was, say, Alex, but with Lewis you can always tell that he wants to do things right. (Or that's what I'm seeing). And so seeing him very confidently doing this - without any apparent reason or social clue from Lewis, I don't think they were even talking - means a lot too. Because in that instance he was past the point of being too hesitant. I think for George to just do what he feels like doing might be a bigger deal than it is for people who are less self-aware.
And all of this might sound silly because it's such a trivial little thing, but - is it, really? Sorry for spaming you like this, this has gotten much too long. Sorry! I don't know if you even like asks that are more like meta than actual questions, but I enjoyed your latest post about this so much, because - as you can see - it got me thinking! :D And I like your thoughts on this.
The only thing I generally object to here is separating Bono and Angela as “entirely different” from his friends and family.
I think that understates their relationship heavily. Lewis spends more time with those two than his family. He spends more time with Angela than his friends, Bono spends hours in his ear each week. They are very very much his family.
I’d also say I didn’t say lewis’ aversion to that stranger wasn’t instinctual, it very much is, I act like that if someone touches me. But where I focused was how Lewis touches his grid family vs others. He’s polite and such with the likes of Ferrari and people he just doesn’t know that well, but it’s different. It’s different to how he seeks George out. Lewis distances himself from the grid to avoid HAVING to avoid these contacts, you have to step one step back for the full picture
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sleepyfacetoughguy ¡ 2 years
Note
Hey! Hello from abroad! I am now even further from you in time, or closer, depending which half of the clock we're looking at 🤔 here are three questions! I didn't bring my computer away with me so apologies if I have asked you these before.
1. Is air conditioning a standard thing in NZ? Do you have it in your home?
2. As a fellow demi-ace ✌️😘 I am often in a quandary about how to explain that to someone, especially in instances where it is someone i might potentially date. Do you have a go-to way of describing it?
3. Do you remember when ASOS was As Seen On Screen? Did you ever buy anything from it?
🥰🖤
So close and yet so far...I hope you have a wonderful weekend and that the wedding is beautiful 💕
1) Air conditioning wasn't standard even ten years ago here but now is (it's required in most rentals). Auckland has gotten so much hotter and muggier than it used to be so it's really a necessity in summer. Got air conditioning a few years but it doesn't cover everywhere. Used to just leave doors open but now there's more and bigger mosquitos and gotta keep those bastard out too.
2) Beloved Howl, my fellow demi-sexual how wonderful to find another of our group!
Man, is demi-sexuality tough to describe if you don't innately understand it as we do. I was so relieved when I learned the term ten years or so ago because it reflected my lived experience so well. This after years of wondering if I was ace because that fit somewhat but not totally. But also knowing I definitely wasn't allosexual either.
To me it's perfectly natural to not be physically attracted to people without a pre-existing history and an emotional connection. People misunderstand this, thinking it's like a moral or practical choice (to wait for "true love" or something I dunno). But I don't have those compunctions, I am highly sex positive. I just don't personally have the physical capacity for sexual attraction unless those pre-conditions are met. If they are (& it's rare) it's like a light switch is flicked and I'm just as sexual as the next person.
Pro of demi-sexuality for me: I have never felt sexual attraction towards somebody who was a dickhead no matter how conventionally hot. It's literally impossible for me.
Con of demi-sexuality for me: my (excessive?) friendliness can be misconstrued as attraction
Neutral of demi-sexuality for me: I don't need a partner (less interested as I get older) & I don't want children. So the natural urge to partner off doesn't really apply to me or make me sad I haven't got that. I'm genuinely good.
How do you explain demi-sexuality? And also we must talk more offline - I love that we have this in common (yet more proof we are antipodian doppelgangers 😉)
3) I DID NOT KNOW THIS! Never even had a moment's curiosity about what ASOS meant when it became a global phenomenon. Was it like a place that copy catted tv/movie looks or like an As Seen On TV infomercial deal?
💗💗💗
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asoulofatlantis ¡ 9 months
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You know I am really the least one who would support guys who dare to insult the royal family and the people in the government who try to repair the damage Osborne has caused, but... Calvard is still a thread and we should obviously should not throw the stone first and start a war with them... but I gotta admit that I do think we should all the same be prepared for them actually throwing the first stone and starting a war with us. No defending the IDF-Soldiers that occupied Crossbell or their ideals, but at least they are right about one thing.
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Is it just me or have her boobs grown even bigger? Has anyone ever told Falcom that they do stop growing at a certain age? ^^’
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Seeing Ilyia finally back on stage is truly amazing. And it once again showed the immense strength our Trails woman have. She was never supposed to even walk again. And now. Like 2 or 3 years later, she isn’t just walking, she is dancing and moving as gracefully as ever. Shining radiantly like the sun she represents.
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Urg... some voice actors do not match the original voices at all. Wazys voice is far to deep for his character. (For the record, I do not criticize the voice actors, I am sure they do they're very best. I am however criticizing Nisa and their choices. They should have tried harder to find voice actors who sound at least familiar to the originals. Wazy is sometimes rumored to be a girl or something along the lines of Quatre and this deep manly voice doesn’t fit here at all.
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Also... I get that Nisa has problems finding and paying enough voice actors for a game with such a huge cast and I do also understand that especially for people with not so many voiced lines it is much easier to just take a voice actor you already have in the studio anyway, but in just this short amount of time there are so many familiar voices among “unfamiliar” (as in [almost] never voiced before) characters with familiar voices that it makes my head spin. And how in the world did they think giving our “older Machias twin” the voice of that stupid Ballad guy was a good idea?
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It sounds like half of the IDF-Soldiers have Gaiuses voice ^^’ (Once again, this is is in no way me criticizing the game, I am just complaining about Nisa - any yes, I am very much aware that I have to be thankful that we get an englisch localisation for the games at all and yes I am grateful, but that doesn’t mean I am not allowed to question some questionable choices...)
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I am sorry but I still have to complain about voice actor choices. I mean... OH MY GOD! What the hell did they do with KeA?! She sounds like the cutes little girl in CS4 and it fit her perfectly and now she sounds like an almost grown up and it seems like they didn’t even try to make her new voice sound anything alike her old one at all (as they did with Laura, Osborne and Lechter in CS4) its sounds like a completely different character. And mind you, this plays like roughly half a year (if at all) after the end of CS4, which means she hasn't even aged enough to explain her voice change with the fact that she has gotten more mature physically.
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Just for the record, in the original japanese version of the game Juna counted down in german. They didn’t usually translate that into english when the Jaegers decide to answer with “Ja” instead of with “Yes” but apparently they decided if they translate thing, they might as well translate even the stuff that was purposefully not in Japanese.
(And yes, I am very much aware that I am still in the opening cutscenes - which take quite a while, but are interesting enough to not feel it is too much - and the only thing I do is complain about NISAs questionable choices XD)
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Complains about Nisa aside (for once)... I really hope we will find out eventually which path Juna took after graduation from Thors. She could have easily enough actually joined the SSS. But given how she is one of Reans harem-choices it would make for a more complicated possible long-distance-relationship then with the other girls. But on the other hand, Juna always belonged to Crossbell, her staying in Erebonia would not really fit her character. But it is a bit of an issue that Falcom has brought on themselves.
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I know what she means. I felt the same way when I played it for the first time. It doesn’t feel as strong the second time, I have to admit that, but it still feels good nothing the less.
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Uh... yeah... uhm... about that Lloyd... maybe... you shouldn't be so sure about that just yet ^^’
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Once again, I am not siding with them or anything, but I do kind of understand them somewhat. For Erebonians their pride is their top priority. As he said, they did immoral and questionable things in the name of the Empire, because their pride as citizens of Erebonia demanded of them to go with whatever the government ordered. Resistance wasn’t possible either way, but at the end of the day, all that was for nothing. I do understand that they feel frustrated about it.
(By the way, he said the Chancellor was killed... I wonder how they explained that? He was killed alright, that is why he is gone and his orders are null and void with that, but by who did they say he was killed? And why does this person not have to face any consequences?)
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I think that is the first time one of our heroes actually legally arrested an Erebonian XD (Because Rean always claims people are under arrest, even tho he never had the authority to say that, especially not as a military academy student, way back when he faced some of the terrorists...)
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ai-18 ¡ 1 year
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Taj is a remarkable 16-year-old tiger, rescued from a circus who deemed him "worthless" due to their belief that he was blind. Well, contrary to this belief, Taj can see just fine—and better yet, he has found a peaceful retirement with us here at Forever Wild!
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We need your help to raise funds for Taj so that he can enjoy a comfortable retirement - just like any other old soul deserves. Your kindness won't just be helping one animal; it will improve our sanctuary's ability to help countless others like Taj who have suffered exploitation for human enjoyment. 
We urge you to join us in creating a better world where all creatures can live in safety and freedom – please donate today! Every penny you give brings us one step closer to getting Taj many more years ahead full of pain-free peace, joy, and love!
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papyrusandpaints ¡ 1 year
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Happy New Year 2023
Yesterday, just as I was packing up my diary and journals of 2022, a strange thought crossed my mind. What is all this excitement of New Year’s Eve about? What are we actually celebrating on 01st January? How and why are we celebrating the beginning of a new year without even knowing what’s in store? Or, are we celebrating our having gotten rid of another year, with all its twists and turns, thrills and travails? In fact, even when we celebrate our birthdays, do we celebrate our getting older and moving one step towards the final destination? Or, do we celebrate our still being alive and getting another chance of life, no matter how uncertain? Just as I was mulling the last question, the penny dropped.
We humans, despite how psychologists and writers portray us to be, are optimists by nature. Marching on to the beat of a deeply inscribed desire for survival, we always keep finding opportunities to get better and evolve. This urge is what helped nations ravaged by wars and plagues to rebuild themselves and emerge stronger out of their ashes. This urge is what keeps the seemingly weak organisms thrive despite the ever-looming danger of predators and bigger threats.
All these little milestones of new years and birthdays are nothing but microcosmic expressions of that Universal urge to evolve and keep going. This urge, this sensing of opportunity is what fills gyms on the first weeks of the new year. This is why people sound more optimistic and energetic than at any other time of the year. This is what makes us all set lofty goals, make sparkling plans and dream colorful dreams for the year ahead. Just as I felt that, I also sensed the overall sentiment in the air around this time – a sense of opportunity.
The year 2022 was one of hope. Having been caged in for two years by the pandemic, the whole of humanity rushed forward in 2022. We all hoped for a better year in 2022 and at least for most of us, it turned out to be better than the previous few years. Now, this 2023 may be the time, we all put our feet firmly and grab our opportunities - of not mere materialistic nature, but of a superior kind. With the pandemic showing signs of finally being controlled, can we grab the opportunities of Life this year?
The opportunity to love, to exist in peace, to better ourselves, to improve as a whole as mankind, is up for grabs. Can we make use of that opportunity? Hate is ruining the world. Materialism and consumerism are threatening our long-term survival. Spirituality is slowly vanishing, supplanted by self-aggrandizing interpretations of eternal truths. Human ties are either loose or vanishing altogether. Will we find the opportunity to bond better with our fellow humans this year? Will we make better use of this shining opportunity called 2023? Knowing the human spirit, which has the knack of raising above itself when an opportunity beckons, I am hopeful we will.
So, here’s hoping you and yours have a pleasantly memorable 2023. May this be the year where you fulfil not just your desires but also your destiny. May this be the year that we all grab the opportunity to be the better versions of ourselves – healthier, kinder, calmer, more sensible and more divine!
Happy New Year 2023!
A.
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m814planet ¡ 1 year
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2022—SHEN MENGYAO ELECTION CAMPAIGN SPEECH 
It’s been too long since I’ve performed at the theatre, I don’t know why but just now, as I was dancing, I had the urge to cry. I’m really happy to be able to come here and meet everyone today. Alright, I’m going to start my election campaign now. 
Hello everyone, I’m SNH48 Team HII’s Shen Mengyao. Thank you for coming to see my election campaign stage today. I didn’t have much of a speech last time, because my goal is very firmly set, so [I thought] there wasn’t much to say about that goal besides to just go for it. But as we get closer and closer to SSK, I’ve also worried if this would cause people to pay less attention to the things I really want.
The white restraints I used during the performance just now, represents the hope that these predictions [she’s talking about the first and second prelim results] will not become a constraint. And I, truly, have a desire to win.
What is the real drive behind my desire to become “1”? Let me ask everyone something, what does this “1” represent? “1” is the centre of the entire group, is the one that everyone relies on, “1” is the pillar that supports everyone else. That is the “1” that I yearn to become.
But in life, there aren’t so many things that come naturally to you. Instead, these are all achievements that I and the fans have worked hard together to achieve. And me, I often find myself feeling troubled about whether or not I should speak out [for what I want]. [The thing is], it's really easy for people to twist your words into something false, and for them to speak false rumours into truth. When others have gotten to say their piece, and you’re the one who’s spoken the least, then [suddenly] you’re the one who’s at fault.
What’s more, most people are just here for the drama, and they won’t bother to speak up for you (in your defence?).  So today, let me speak up for myself a little more.
For so many years, for those that have refused to open their eyes wide, their impressions of me are just obstacles. And since that’s all you see in your eyes, then why don’t you just shut them? I have no ability to control your words, only you want to live in the past, but I refuse to play along with you.
But it seems that in 2021, I still don’t have the good fortune to have everyone see my and my meagre activities/jobs. Many people have even come and asked me, is all this necessary? [But in return, I ask] is that all it takes to bring me down? Is that my nature? Shouldn’t I fight even harder to prove myself? In the eyes of Siba, only when your value is higher, then it is harder to control/manipulate you. 
Of course, many fans also wonder, once you go to star palace, will you not come back to the stage to dance? [On this,] everyone can relax, I went to ask [management] and even after going to star palace, there will still be stages (for me? Is this addition not necessary?). In fact, these will be bigger stages, with even more cameras/screentime. Although it seems that a lot of “passers-by” look down on the theatre, I am really grateful to the company for giving us this theatre, where we can create opportunities to showcase ourselves. Just as Zhang Laoshi [Zhang Dada, MC of We Are Blazing] said a while back, the entertainment industry cannot be without stages. I think this is an incredibly true statement, so [I] thank Zhang Laoshi for speaking up for us. And so, this is why every single one of my stages is prepared with great care and passion. So I want to tell my fans, don’t be affected by the words of others. I am your pillar [*she’s using wordplay because 1 and 依 sound the same]
I really appreciate the help that everyone has given in support of my dream over the years. To me, the appearance of each fan is a saving grace from every instance of disappointment. [It allows me to] bravely face the regrets I had in the past, and to face the future with the will to fight. Every person that works hard should not be denied, every person who fights for their dream deserves to be praised. We don’t have to bother with those who condescend to speak ill of others. Right now, the only thing that [we] should care about is our current goal! This time, I want to stand in the centre of the entire group. At this moment, my heart is afire and my blood is stirring. What about you? To me, there is no such thing as “the last time”, to me, there is only the fate of doing my best. Thank you everyone.
I still have 40 seconds left. I’m just so happy, it’s been too long since I’ve heard [she’s interrupted by the sound of cheers]. Because [I] was really sad, since I couldn’t meet everyone in Shanghai [due to covid lockdowns]. So just now during the performance, before performing I was still the usual me, but after performing, I could really feel the experience of being loved by you all. So, thank you to everyone. In the future I will also keep up with you all, [so that] we can fight side by side! 
Bye bye!
@MZDINTL [沈梦瑶海外粉丝站]
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seventhrounder ¡ 3 years
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Helloo 👋 it's been a while (as in almost 2 years hjfjdhdhjd) so if you're wondering who's this random blog suddenly on your dash, can't blame ya.
Been feeling the pull to get back here for a while, and almost did a few times before but the thing that finally made me go like "yes i have to rb this i just gotta" was seeing marner in a high ponytail and that's just so incredibly on brand from me ngl.
I've also realized i'm not really attached to any team (other than team finland), i'm just following the teams where my fave players currently are. So expect to see canes, leafs, panthers, flyers, stars and some hawks, maybe sabres too coz i apparently cannot not root for them. So, a mess basically, just like before 😌 And probs every team at some point but everything will be tagged!!
Anyways insert here we go again meme 🕺🏻
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natsfirecat ¡ 3 years
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Stay
summary: r gets hurt saving nat (who she’s in love with) and natasha wants nothing more than to get her back
based on these two requests:
1:  If you still need Hurt and Comfort prompts, would you accept a scenario where Reader fell in a coma after a mission gone wrong, and the whole time she’s unconscious, Natasha doesn’t want to leave her side. She doesn’t sleep, barely eats, and constantly talking to reader thinking she can hear. Reader then wakes up after 3 months, and Natasha confesses her feelings for Reader.❤️‍🩹🥺
2: How bout Natasha x fem!Reader where Reader takes a bullet after saving her crush, Natasha, on a mission. Reader survives and brushes it off as “it’s my job” but Natasha doesn’t take the whole situation well, especially since she has feelings for reader too!I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER! 😘😫❤️*have some tea 🍵 *
word count: 2.8k
genre: fluff and angst but fluff ending
warnings: swearing, gunshot, comatose, blood, medical knowledge that only comes from grey’s anatomy, catradora quote because i have no self control, lmk if i need to add any more!
A/N i combined these requests since they were kinda similar, i hope you don’t mind kind anons!
“She’s tachycardic! Push one of epi, STAT!”
“No, no,”
“Hang on, Y/N, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you. Just keep holding on, okay?”
“You’re gonna be okay, alright? You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna pull through this,”
“Why would you do that? How could you be so stupid? Why did you do that?” She yelled.
“Just doing… my job…” You managed to get out.
Eventually the voices around you began to fade out as you succumbed to unconsciousness.
As you felt yourself slipping away, the only thing on your mind was the woman you loved; Natasha Romanoff.
~12 hours earlier~
“Are you ready to go home soon?” You asked.
“Kinda,” she replied honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the team and all, but it is nice to get away sometimes,”
You shrugged,
“Yeah, I guess,”
She smiled, then walked closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulder.
“It is nice getting away with you, though,”
You grinned, feeling your cheeks heat up. 
“I like getting away with you too, Nat,”
She smirked, squeezing your shoulder,
“Then it’s a good thing we still have a day left,”
You could feel your heart-rate increasing as your cheeks got even redder. 
Her smirk turned into a soft smile before she pulled away and went to the bathroom to change.
You sighed, thinking about your hopeless crush on her. You had been an Avenger for three years, friends with Natasha for two, and in love with her for one. 
You never imagined that you would fall for the Black Widow, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without her.
-
“So… there’s a mission Fury assigned me to,” she said, leaning back against the couch. “It’s in France, and he said it could last anywhere from a year or two,”
“What?” You sat straight up. “No! That’s too long!”
“I know. It’s a no-contact mission too,”
“That’s such bullshit. You can’t accept that mission, Natty,”
“He assigned me, Y/N, there’s nothing I can do unless someone else volunteers to take the mission instead,”
You stared at her, suddenly feeling very defeated. 
“No…” you whispered as your eyes began to pool with tears. 
You looked at Natasha, who held her tongue at the roof of her mouth so she wouldn’t cry. You leaned in and wrapped your arms around her tightly, letting out quiet sobs into her neck.
As she held you in her arms, the only thing running through her mind was that she had no idea how the hell she would survive being away from you for that long.
-
After two days of crying, and resisting the urge to scream at Fury, you heard a knock on your door.
“Come in!” You called. The door opened to reveal none other than your favorite redhead, who had the biggest smile on her face.
“Hey,” she said, sitting on your bed.
“Hi,” 
“Guess what?”
You shrugged, not really in the mood for guessing games. You just wanted to cherish your last few moments with her before she left.
“So I got a call from Fury this morning…” she told you, her smile growing bigger. “And he said that someone else took the mission,”
You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend didn’t have to leave.
You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t speak. So instead, you threw yourself into her arms.
As they had done several times in the past two days, your eyes began to fill with tears. But this time however, they were tears of joy.
She was holding onto you just as tight as you were holding onto her. 
When you finally backed away, she smiled, then reached her thumb up to your face to wipe away your tears.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You don’t need to cry, I’m staying,”
“They’re happy tears, Natty,”
She brought her other hand to your face to wipe away tears on the other cheek, then just held your face in her hands for a few moments.
Oh fuck you thought to yourself. Those tears weren’t platonic.
-
After that night, you had tried to deny your feelings for her for a bit. After all, you had gotten romantic and platonic attraction mixed up in the past, who’s to say that this wasn’t one of those times?
But as time went on, the butterflies would happen even more often around her. Your heartbeat began to race if her hand brushed up against yours. Your face would flush when your arms wrapped around her in a hug. You wanted nothing more than to be with her, to feel her lips against yours, and to be able to tell her you loved her and have her say it back.
The only person who knew about your crush on Natasha was Wanda. She had asked if anyone caught your eye, and you refused to tell her anything. However, she decided to read your mind to find out. 
You were a little frustrated that she did that, but you weren’t too mad, knowing you would’ve done the same thing to your best friend.
So since then, Wanda would always try to convince you to tell her, and you would always say no. 
As much as it hurt to have these feelings and not tell her, you knew it would be nothing compared to telling her and having the feelings not reciprocated and losing your friendship. You’d rather stay just her friend forever than to lose her.
So here you were now, in love with one of your best friends.
“Ready to go?” She asked as she finished putting her suit on.
“Yep!”
She smiled, then gestured for you to follow her. Today was the last day of your mission, and you just needed to erase all files from some druglord’s computer.
For the past week, the two of you had done several stakeouts, gotten information, and identified people. The last step was destroying their information.
So, Natasha was currently driving the two of you to the location. She had the radio playing, and the two of you were softly singing the lyrics to the songs.
You turned to face her, feeling yourself smile at the sight of her being so carefree around you. 
Not that you knew this, but you were the only person she would ever allow to see her like this.
She kept her eyes on the road, but saw you looking at her through her peripheral vision. You were simply mouthing the lyrics now, not really paying attention to them. Instead, your attention was purely on Natasha.
She kept singing the words though, but she was also smiling at the sight of you. 
As she began to turn her head to fully face you, your cheeks grew red.
“Eyes on the road, Nat!” You told her, laughing.
“Okay, mom,” She retorted, earning a playful eye roll from you. 
“Oh don’t be like that,” she said, beginning to as well. “C’mon, we’re here anyway,”
You nodded, opening the door as soon as she stopped the car. 
Once she locked the car, the two of you made your way into the building. 
She had her gun ready, holding it out at every corner you turned. 
“We’ve been here like four times already, Nat,” you told her, scoffing. “We’re fine”
She grumbled in response, but kept her gun out.
You shook your head, letting out a sigh, then continued on.
Once you made your way to the necessary room, each of you sat down in front of a computer. 
“Delete, erase, goodbye,” you muttered as you typed.
Natasha didn’t say anything as she typed away, just wanting to get out of this building as soon as possible.
You glanced over at her every once in a while.
You smiled, watching her type with the clacking on the keyboard. The tip of her tongue was poking out the corner of her mouth. Her eyes began to squint as she focused on the screen. 
Unfortunately, while you were staring, you failed to notice someone else come in the room behind you.
“Avengers,” A voice from behind you said.
You whipped around, your eyes widening to see someone wearing a combat suit holding a gun out.
Natasha stood up, raising her gun immediately. 
Before you could even process what was happening, you heard the sound of a gunshot. 
Without even thinking about it, you threw yourself at Natasha, knocking her to the ground. 
Turns out, she was the one who shot first, considering that the other guy was currently laying in a pool of his own blood that was spilling out fast.
But as you jumped, he aimed his gun at Natasha, pulling the trigger.
You let out a groan of pain, feeling a pain growing in your shoulder. 
“Y/N no! What did you do?”
She cried your name a few more times, but you couldn’t respond. You only let out a few shaky breaths and sobs as the pain in your shoulder began to grow.
She pulled her phone out, calling for help as fast as she could.
Everything hurt, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing you did. All that mattered to you, was that the woman you loved was safe.
All that mattered was that Natasha Romanoff was safe.
~two days later~
“How’s she doing?”
“Same as before.”
Natasha sighed as she reached onto your bed, placing her hand over yours.
As soon as you were brought back, everyone began working on you right away. Dr. Cho saved your life, and managed to get the bullet out.
However, because of how long it had taken to get you into surgery, you had a lot of internal bleeding. 
So, here you were now, in a coma. No one knew when, or even if, you would ever wake up.
Natasha stayed by your side the entire time. 
“Nat, you can’t stay in here forever,” Wanda said, gently placing her hand on her shoulder.
“It was my fault, Wanda,” she replied, her voice hoarse from crying. “It should’ve been me,”
“Don’t say that. You’re both alive. She wouldn’t want you to say that, or to sulk in here all day,”
Natasha said something, but kept her gaze on your unconscious body as her red eyes began to fill with tears once again.
“I can’t lose her.”
-
After the first week, Natasha finally left your room at night. She would usually come in around 7:00 AM, and stay until midnight. 
Clint would come by, and bring her food. He was genuinely worried that she wouldn’t eat if he didn’t.
Wanda came by often too. 
“Do you think she can hear us?” Natasha asked her.
“I can try and find out, if you’d like,” Wanda offered.
Natasha nodded, removing her hand from you.
Wanda stood up, then placed one hand on your forehead, closing her eyes.
After a few moments of silence, she gave Natasha a soft smile.
“She’s dreaming,”
“Is she aware of things going on outside?”
“Not right now. I don’t think she’s constantly dreaming while unconscious. Hearing our voices right now, she’s either drowning them out or they’ll be in her dream. She might become more aware later,”
Natasha let out a shaky breath, then connected her hand to yours again.
“Hi, Y/N,” she breathed out. “We did it. We destroyed the files, and the building ended up being destroyed after we left. We did the mission, you can wake up now. You can come back now,”
She could feel herself about to cry, so she turned to Wanda.
“What’s she dreaming about?”
Wanda closed her eyes again, looking into your mind.
“She’s at this house, and there’s comforting energy coming from it. I think it might be her childhood home.” Wanda explained. “Something’s happening in slow motion. There’s like, cracks of electricity and… oh my god there’s a lightning strike right in front of her,”
“She’s dreaming about lightning?”
“I can hear her inner voice. Part of her is afraid, but the bigger part of her is thinking the lightning strike will give her superpowers… and she’s floating in the air right now,”
Natasha laughed for the first time since getting back. Of course superpowers would be on your mind while getting struck by lightning.
“Thank you, Wanda,” she told her, gently squeezing your hand.
“Of course,” she replied. “You should get some rest. I know Y/N would want you to,”
Natasha sighed, then nodded. She was feeling better for the first time since you took the bullet for her.
-
“Hey,” she said, getting a laptop out and setting it on the side of your bed. “It’s been three weeks now, and uh, I thought it might be a good idea to bring this down and watch your favorite movie. Y’know, maybe hearing it will help you,”
A lump began to form in her throat as she stared at you. However, she said nothing else as she pulled up your favorite movie, then placing it close enough so you could hear, and see it if you were to open your eyes. 
Once she pressed play, she sat on the edge of your bed. She wasn’t looking at the laptop screen, she was looking down at you. 
She brushed a strand of hair out of your face, and ran her thumb across your cheekbone. 
Natasha didn’t even realize she was crying until she had to wipe her own tears off your forehead. 
“Sorry,” she muttered, pulling away so she wouldn’t cry on you anymore. “I just… really miss you, Y/N.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped when she noticed your eyebrow twitch. 
It felt like everything in her body stopped working for a moment as she replayed it in her mind; you moved.
Before she knew it, she was sprinting out of your room at full speed to get Dr. Cho.
“She moved! I think she’s waking up! Her eyebrow moved!” She yelled as she barged into her office.
Dr. Cho tilted her head to the side, but followed her back to your room.
She walked over to you, then examined the monitors. She looked at you, then back at your vitals. 
“Miss Romanoff, I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing in her brain activity that indicates her moving or waking up. Sometimes, when we want to see something so bad, our mind tricks us into thinking we saw it. It’s a cruel thing, but it’s not uncommon for situations like this,”
Natasha’s heart dropped as the doctor left the room to give her space. She thought she had you back.
-
She wasn’t going to give up on you. She pulled the laptop away, then sat next to you again.
She then layed down, and wrapped her arms around you, sobbing into your neck.
“Wake up, please,” she begged between sobs. “Come back to me.”
Natasha pulled back, placing one hand on your cheek. She leaned down, pulling you close again.
“Don’t you get it?” She said at almost a whisper. “I love you. I always have. So please, just this once. Stay.” She pulled back again, then placed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Stay.”
It was like everything in her froze again. 
Your eyebrows were definitely twitching now. A groan escaped your mouth, as you blinked your eyes open.
“Natty,” you said, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You love me?”
“Of course I do,”
You smiled at her, despite the pain running through your body.
“Good, ‘cause I’ve been in love with you for like the past year,”
She let out a mix between a laugh and a sob as she leaned close to you once again.
You leaned forward too, and before you knew it, the distance between the two of you was closed as you were kissing.
It was gentle, considering the fact that you were still hurt, but you both savored every second of it. 
“I love you so much,” you told her, keeping your arms around her.
At this point, you both had tears streaming down your cheeks. Neither of you cared as you leaned in for another kiss. 
“Never do that again, okay?” She told you.
“Do what? Kiss you? I plan on doing that a lot more, thank you very much,”
She rolled her eyes, letting out a small laugh.
“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that for me again, alright? I don’t care if you say it’s your job. Don’t do it again,”
“I did it because I love you, Natty,”
She sighed, wiping away one of your tears. 
“I’m never leaving you though,”
“Good, I don’t want you to leave,”
Of course, the two of you would end up arguing about putting yourselves in danger to save each other, but it would all work out in the end.
You loved her, and she loved you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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honeyabyss ¡ 3 years
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Phone calls after Mc returned to the human realm
Lucifer:
this man is stubborn, calling you would be like admitting he's gone soft and his pride does not allow that!
so he refuses to call for the first few weeks, keeping himself busy with work of which he has enough anyway
due to all his student council work, a few other tasks of Diavolo and on top of that the usual shenanigans of his brothers, he quickly becomes very stressed
he's at his breaking point and needs someone to talk to so he can release some of his stress before he takes it out on someone else
so he goes to your old room and starts talking as soon as he enters it, only to stop confused when he doesn't see you in the room, remembering only now you left for the human realm
disappointed he sits down onto the bed and curls the blanket around himself
"Their scent is almost gone...Soon it'll be as if they were never here"
he closes his eyes, sighs softly and makes his decision
"Mc? I hope I didn't wake you. I simply thought a conversation would be nice, it's been a while..."
Lucifer's call is pretty casual, he talks about his day, work and his troublemaker brothers, it almost feels like any other day before just this time it is over phone
he does not want to admit he misses you, a) because he'd seem weak and b) he fears what admitting it will do to him, he might just miss you even more
BUT while saying goodbye he accidentally lets a "I miss you" slip, his breathing stops shortly realizing his mistake, he is about to apologize when you say it back
he smiles softly, genuinely relieved about your shared sentiment and whispers "I'll call you again soon then" before hanging up
from then on he calls you every evening and you better jump right away and pick up at the first ringing, because this man is lonely without you
Mammon:
"Congratulations! You're one of our lucky winners of our monthly Devil-Lottery. We'll have to confirm your bank account number with the one given to us when you agreed to participating in the lottery. Would you be so kind to slowly repeat the number-"
this greedy demon will quite literally try to scam you, only to absolutely panic when you hang up on him
he will instantly call you back, constantly adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit he acquired over the years
"H-hey...Mc...uhm, it's me your favourite demon!"
he is relieved you picked up, as it means you didn't block him right away, he stumbles over his words trying to find an excuse why he just tried to scam you
"Ah you know I only did that to test you, you've passed nobody scams my human! You're my amazing human after all! That's why I love you...u-uh I-i mean...nothing...that was a static you must have misheard..."
when you tell him you knew it was him as you recognized his voice, he'll be outraged, screaming into his D.D.D (and probably later getting punched by Lucifer for being so loud)
"What do you mean you already knew?! You dared to hang up on The Great Mammon?
He gets a bit sulky by your reaction, so how about playing into his obvious lie of testing you to make him feel better again
besides trying to scam you Mammon also called to (not so sneakily) check on your wellbeing
now that you're gone he constantly worries about you and he can't do much to help, but if you were actually in need of help due to whatever, trust me he'd fight Lucifer himself for permission to go to you
he'll call you as often as he can, sometimes with a few days of a break in between, asking you about your life and also letting you in on his upcoming money making schemes...please don't tell Lucifer about them
Mammon has learned his lesson though, he'll never try to scam you again, he couldn't bare it if you were to block or ignore his calls
Leviathan:
phone calls? Why? You two can just talk about the in-game talk function of this new online game you play, but no real world talk while playing that ruins the immersion!
Levi will rarely call you as he just doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk with you about normie stuff for too long
he normally just spam writes you, ding, ding, ding, one message after another coming in without you being able to respond quick enough
so if gets too much and you decide to just call him so you can have an actual chance of responding, Levi just panics and almost drops his D.D.D
"Mc? D-did you accidentally hit the c-call button? N-no? I-i see no I love you too!!....AAAAAAAh I-i meant I l-l-love t-talking to you too...hehehe w-why would a yucky o-otaku like me say something like that"
poor boy is so nervous he'll say something stupid and will stutter a lot the first few times you call him, he is just not used to talking on the phone
he will laugh nervously over everything and sometimes there'll be a phase of awkward silence, but please don't point it out, Levi is already stressed enough as it is
once he gets used to calls, he'll surprisingly suggests to have a phone call while both of you are watching the new episode of an anime, so he'll be able to talk to you as if you're right next to him, which works out mediocre at first, you have to tell him to be a bit quieter a few times but besides that it's quiet nice
"Ooooooowhooooooah!!! Did you see that? That was amazing, I wish I had these superpowers, I'd save you of every danger like a real hero! W-what do you mean I'm already your hero?"
Yes, you saw and heard it, and your neighbours probably heard Levi...
on the rare occasions Levi calls you he'll often asks you for favours like to buy him this exclusively in the human realm sold limited edition game, of course he isn't like his scummy brother Mammon who'll constantly asks for things and he'll also make it up by sending you stuff you can only get on Akuzon
so calls don't happen very often, but neither if you really mind, you'll still be in contact through messages and games
Satan:
Satan will be very proper about calling you, he'll check through messages if you're fine with him calling you, so he can be sure you have time and he doesn't bother you
Satan never jumps into a conversation right away (unless he is angry), he makes sure to show interest in you and hold a bit small talk, asking about your day, how you're doing and so on
you talk about many different things with him mostly about your shared interests, but Satan is willing to listen to you ramble about hobbies he doesn't have as well
one thing you two quickly come to do was have book club sessions over phone
"I wish you were still here Mc. I miss my book discussion partner, nobody here has as interesting opinions and views as you..."
back in Devildom you two would both read a book and afterwards discuss your thoughts, and you found a way too keep doing just that
you both write about books, decide on one to read for the week and would than have a phone call where you just talk for hours about the piece of literature you've read
now that you're back in the human realm, the book choices are even bigger as you can read human books as well, you just have to send a copy to Satan, sometimes Barbatos will be nice and pick a book up and deliver it to Satan, or to you if it's the other way around with a demon book
"Oh? No, you're right. I haven't thought about it like that yet...your thoughts are so fascinating!"
Satan will shower you in praise for every little detail that you noticed yet he missed. he genuinely enjoys your phone calls, and though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes he anticipates your call more than the actual book
even though there now is a bigger distance between you two he still feels as close to you as before, not much has changed for him and he knows he'll be able to see you again soon, he'll just have to be patient
"Next week, same time? I'm looking forward to talking to you again. Take care until then!"
Asmodeus:
"Oh my Lord! You won't believe what just happened!!!"
no greeting or alike, just straight into the discussion
whenever something gossip worthy happens, Asmo is already dialling your number to spill the tea and keep you updated on any Devildom related gossip, even if it won't help you much, it's a nice thought of him keep you in the loop
those are only the spontaneous call though, obviously you can't take these all the time...you still have a life of your own...
you two actually call each other every day at the same time, plus/minus a couple minutes, the water in the tub has to be filled first...yeah Asmo likes to talk you while he is taking his afternoon bath
"Hahh it's so relaxing, warm water caressing my beautiful skin, and the bath bomb today smells so good! I wish you could smell it, or even better I wish we could bathe together!"
*water sloshing noises intensified*
Asmo...no....yes...maybe...just stop, you'll fluster Mc!
"No really! I miss having you here, I'll pamper you all day the next time I'll get to see you. You must already be starved of my beauty, but don't worry my dear, I'm just as starved of seeing your lovely face!"
what to talk about while he is bathing? Anything really if it's about your day, any complains or whatever, just expect a few innuendos of him...that's nothing new though
seriously though Asmo is the guy to talk to about any of your problems, he will listen and try to come up with a solution for you, even if he seems a bit narcissistic sometimes he really cares about you, so use your phone calls as therapy from time to time
"Oh darling, don't worry it'll be okay! I'm here to help...now tell me every detail so I can come up with a plan! I'll always be there for you, no matter what!"
Beelzebub:
"*munch munch* This one is really good! Mc you should try some...oh"
now that you're back in the human realm, Beels snack times are very lonely, he has just gotten so used to your presence, even sharing his food is normal by now
and let's be honest Beels snack time is 24/7 so he misses you a lot
he feels the urge to call you every five minutes and sometimes even forgets to eat while phone is ringing and he is waiting for you to pick up
but you can't constantly talk with him over phone so the calls often end up on your voicemail where Beel tells you about all the different kind of foods he ate that day
when Belphie catches wind of his twin constantly pestering you, he hides Beels D.D.D so he can't call you all the time
when you're actually able to pick up on his call, Beel will be so happy you can quite literally hear his huge grin while he's excitedly talking about his current snack
"Have you ever tried spicy bat-wings? There opened a new restaurant in town and it's really good!! Next time you're here I'll invite you there. Oh but what if it closes before you're back...ah you'll just have to visit soon!"
though Beel is often disappointed when you don't pick up, he would never hold it against you, he knows he calls quite a lot, but he just misses you and tipping a message while he eats is harder than putting his D.D.D on speaker and talking to you
of course he doesn't only talk about food, he also tells you about how his brothers are doing and how his workout was, or what things he has planned to do at the weekend, all in all Beel is just super happy to share everything of his life with you
on rare occasions he'll call you and be untypically quiet, that happens when he had a fight with his twin, it's not often but sometimes it happens and his first instinct is to call you, because he feels like he can tell you everything so he is very comfortable and trusting with you
"I miss you a lot, you know...but I also know that you think about me daily, every time your stomach rumbles you'll be reminded of me and that makes me happy, I also think about you every time I'm hungry! Hm? But I'm always hungry? That's right! You're always on my mind!"
Belphegor:
Listen, his sleeping schedule is very tight, you can't just expect him to call you!
he will call you so rarely and if you call him it might just happen that he is sleeping and has phone on silent...or he's just to lazy to walk to his phone, or he is just not in the mood to talk... he takes any excuse to not be on the phone
Belphie does like talking to you, but he is not the greatest at long conversations so he like messages more
sometimes when he can't seem to fall asleep, he will be the one to call you...in the middle of the night...and you better pick up or he gets annoyed
"What took you so long? I thought you wanted to talk more often and then you leave me hanging for a whole minute? Doesn't matter I would have waited longer with you...."
he is mostly silent through a phone call, his main reason to call you is because he like to listen to you talk, it's calming to him and if he calmer then he might be able to fall asleep again
so don't expect an amazingly deep conversation...
"Mhmmm...hm? Yeah I'm still there. I'm listening keep talking, I love your voice..."
he'll bring up a topic from time to time so you have an inspiration about what to talk about, but most of the times he just lazily hum or making acknowledging noises so you know he is still listening
"Zzz..."
he will to 100% fall asleep while being on the phone with you, that doesn't mean you're boring, but that he trusts you so much that he is comfortable enough to let his guard down
Diavolo:
"Good afternoon! How was the week of my favourite human?...ah don't tell Solomon I said that hahaha"
as the future king of hell, he is a busy man, but he still manages to give you a call once a week, to the same time you two would have normally had your weekly afternoon tea meeting in the castle
with the exchange year over there is not much about your classes to talk about left, but Dia is just as excited about any other topic you decide to talk about, be it the most mundane thing he loves it!
"Oh so you went grocery shopping? That must be fun! Barbatos does it all the time, though I suppose you buy less things...I'd like to see a human market at some point, I wonder if they're very different from ours...oh but I wouldn't really able to tell I suppose, Barbatos and you would need to point out the differences!"
this man can talk without taking a break for hours...you think Asmo is bad? Prepare for Diavolo...
but seriously it never gets boring with him, because he somehow finds good and fun stuff in every activity, I swear give him a vacuum and watch him clean you're whole flat with the enthusiasm of a child getting presents on Christmas
the work of a future king consists of so much paperwork, Dia will have only few events of his week to tell you about, if there is something to talk about there is a high chance it has to do with the brothers
so he'd much rather just sip his tea and listen to you, he'll ask you loads of questions though about anything he doesn't know
sometimes you two forget the time and Barb sadly has to remind you to come to a stop for now
"Mc? Did I wake you? If so I'm terribly sorry...would you be up to talk for a little bit more? I'm not feeling too tired yet"
surprise night time calls from Dia where you'll have to speak silently or Barbatos might reprimand Diavolo for staying up all night and being tired the next day, Dia doesn't regret it ever though, he likes to talk you a lot!
Barbatos:
Barbatos is always busy and his schedule can often suddenly change with a new whim of his master, so he can't exactly have a scheduled call with you
so you might not get to hear of him very often
BUT he made it a habit to call you when he is on duty to do the dishes, the chore is somewhat boring to him with no one to distract him
so he calls you and if you pick up, he'll put you on speaker and talk to you about whatever comes to mind while his hands wash one after another of the expensive porcelain of the royal household
"I've bought this new tea which is said to be really nice, it can even be enjoyed cold apparently. It seems to have to just the right amount of sweetness to not get bitter when drank cold...you can still add sugar for extra sweetness, though I believe you're already sweet enough as it is"
no matter what you decide to talk about Barbatos always has at least some knowledge about it, so it's beneficial for both of you, he can tell you the things he knows and you tell him your stuff
"I hope I'm not bothering you too much? There is quite a lot to do today... so it might take some more time..."
you will never get to know that Barb has actually already finished the dished a few minutes ago, but just isn't ready to say goodbye yet
the rest of the employees will be able handle the castle for a bit longer without him, meanwhile he can take a well deserved tea break and listen to you
he very much enjoys the fact he found a way to have some time with you while theoretically having to be at work, as long as he is able to finish all the tasks of his daily schedule, he doesn't feel too bad about his not so legal break
"I fear I'll have to get back to work now, but I loved talking to you today! I hope you enjoyed it as well. I'll talk to you again soon!"
Solomon:
Though Solomon returned to the human realm with you, you haven't heard much of him, being a wise old man sorcerer must be very time consuming
so calls of Solomon might be rare but that doesn't mean you don't write messages every now and then, when he calls you though it's always about something interesting or important to share, he talks about those things rather verbally, the best option for him would be in person, but that doesn't always work so a phone call is the second best option
"My lovely apprentice, how is your studying going? I've found the tome we were talking about last time you were interested in...it took some research to find which sorcerer had it but I brought it back for you. How about I'll drop by you next week? I can help you with your studying then, the tome is written in an older version of the language it might be easier if we do it together!"
Solomon can simply not sit still, so while you're on the phone, he is always tinkering at something and the background noises are sometimes quite peculiar...
Was that a pig squeaking? Are you sure you should be brewing a potion while being on the phone? Isn't it distracting?
Oh Lord was that an explosion?!
"Hmm? Oh yeah...I`m cooking dinner right now! It was just a small explosion though, you know the ones that are regularly happen in the kitchen. Why? Was my cute student worried about me?~ heheh alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you...for now!"
no matter how chaotic, teasing or busy Solomon is though, if you call him and are in need of help, he'll drop everything and run to you
he knows how hard it can be when studying magic, not to mention that the studies are difficult, the constant hiding of any magic in front of other humans is also very nerve wrecking, sometimes you feel like giving up and going back to your normal life, back to your non-magical very human friends that are blissfully unaware of everything happening around them, but you know you could never forget and act as if nothing happened, you'd also miss your new not so normal friends, so when times get hard Solomon will rush to you and comfort you in person or at least calm you down on phone until he is able to go to you
if that happens he is more likely to call you every two to three days just to check in on you
"Hey how is my strong and beautiful fellow human doing? Feeling better yet? Need a shoulder to lean on? I'm at your flat in 10 minutes..."
Simeon:
Simeon is a daily caller as well, he's gotten so used to seeing you every day that he feels quite restless if he doesn't get to hear your voice at least once a day
he asked you to recommend at what time he should call, he doesn't want to restrict you in your daily life, so you both came to the conclusion after dinner would be perfect, as both of you are free for the rest of the day then
He will often write a bit on his TSL scripts, just some notes and inspirations he comes up while talking to you
"How was your day my little lamb? You haven't overworked yourself right? Tell me if you ever need help!"
though Simeon would definitely have things to complain about with how Michael is working him to the bone, he'd rather not worry you so instead he tells you about how Luke is doing and evasively answers you questions about himself
"Oh me? Ah yes, I'm doing fine, just doing the usual archangel stuff you know...Ah please do not worry Mc, my dear! Nothing dangerous!"
over the time his TSL notes turn into random scribbles, rhymes and poems and every now and then something that looks suspiciously like your name
Sometimes Luke crashes the call and wants to speak with you as well so Simeon tries to put the phone on speaker only to end up ending the call and Luke getting frustrated with Simeon and doing it himself
then again Simeon also just accidentally hangs up on you mid conversation, because his fingers hit the button without him noticing, he'll get so confused when you cut off in the middle of your sentence and thinks something has happened to you, only to be relieved when you call back a few seconds later
Simeon is very interested in your day and how you doing, asking you many questions and encouraging you to keep talking
"Oh no please keep talking! You're not overwhelming me at all, in fact I like listening to your voice, it puts even the most melodic voice of an angel into the shadows...hahaha did I make you embarrassed? I apologize, I didn't mean to, I was only telling you my honest opinion!"
Simeon is quite the flatterer, but he often does not notice it, he simply tries to be nice, so a call with him leaves you flustered and stuttering ever now and then, but he is just as quick to blush at a honest and heartfelt compliment
Luke:
Luke might be an angel, but he is still low ranking and therefore has less assignments, besides studying to become a great angel and doing some minor tasks for Michael, he is relatively free
he often spends his free time in the kitchen constantly trying to improve his baking, now after the exchange year not only to impress Michael and Simeon but also Barbatos, maybe a bit Beel and definitely you!
but as Simeon is still working at these times, he gets somewhat lonely so he'll try calling you to keep him some company
Luke has this habit of speaking the recipes out loud to remember the steps better and be able to able to make them from memory, he got that tip from Barbatos, but he still has his moments where he gets stuck and forgets what to do next, you can notice that when he gets silent and concentrates on trying to remember
"Ah right that was it! I almost forgot about the eggs! Good thing you were here...or well on the phone hehe! You always remember this stuff, you're so amazing!"
when you tell him you simply looked it up in the internet for him, he'll get a bit sulky that he now basically cheated, but with your reassurance that he is already great and can remember so many other steps, he is quickly back to his happy little angel self
"Michael let me help with his conference today I was assistant record keeper today, one day I'll be able to do it alone, bit they're talking so much and so fast...I think I still need a couple centuries until I'm fully ready, but I'm working on improving! You should also try to improve your skills daily! Even a small bit of practice is good! Though I think you're perfect already!"
Luke most definitely learned his flattering from Simeon... he talks about many different things on the phone but repeating topic is Michael...just talking to you makes his day and later he'll tell everything Simeon and he smiles so brightly while he reports to him, please keep talking to him a lot!
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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
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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 naĂŻve.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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!
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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.”
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Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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livingforthewhump ¡ 2 years
Note
Hallo lovely, I saw one of your prompts about a villain hero sibling and was enthralled. but then it gave me an idea. Could I request a sick and injured whumpee who hides their pain to go see their sibling who they've been estranged from for years for like a business transaction or something, but the sibling notices and, to their surprise, forces them to rest?
I HAD TO MAKE OCS FOR THIS AND I BLAME YOU (affectionate) HERE IS THEIR INTRO
—
Kelsey just had to get through tonight.
They’d been telling themself that for several nights now, of course, but letting themself admit that would break the immersion in that nice little fantasy. No, they wouldn’t really be able to rest. Even if the boss would let them, they had far too much to do. Too many strings were too close to coming undone.
As they pulled up beside Patrick’s building, they wiped their hands over their shirt, simultaneously drying their clammy skin and making sure no blood had seeped through. Pushing tinted glasses securely to the bridge of their nose—their eyes were shadowed and veiny at the moment. Not ideal for business—they stepped out, steadying themself before walking forward.
Patrick had a butler escort them inside. Of course he did, they thought disdainfully. Every single part of their visit had surely been thought through dozens of times to get just the right message across to them. Patrick was too prideful to do anything else.
Kelsey couldn’t help but feel a rising resentment at how far they were forced to walk. It was hard enough to not sway while standing upright, much less walk through a maze where they were almost certain they went through the same hallway three different times.
Finally, finally, they were led into a cozy, velvety sitting room, a fire crackling beside where two couches faced each other. Patrick reclined on one, flipping absently through a book. Upon Kelsey’s entrance, he set it aside with a sigh and stood to shake Kelsey’s hand.
Kelsey just barely managed to keep their hand from trembling, and they winced slightly at how cold Patrick’s hand was against theirs. Had their fever gotten that bad?
“Your handshake has gotten weaker, sibling,” Patrick observed, eyebrows raising.
Kelsey snatched their hand back. “And your head’s gotten bigger. But that’s a topic for another time.”
To their great annoyance, Patrick smirked at that. Somehow Kelsey could only ever manage to amuse him.
“My boss has a preposition for you,” they started, reminding themself that they just had to get through tonight.
Patrick sighed wearily. “I know he does. I’ve already told him my feelings about it.”
Kelsey bit back the urge to feign surprise at the fact that he does, in fact, have feelings. “Then why am I wasting my time here?”
He regarded them steadily. “Most likely he expects me to feel kinship with you and reconsider.”
Kelsey shivered and suddenly became aware of how cold it was in the room. They took a sneaky step closer to the fire, wiping their hands on their pants as serruptuously as possible. “Well, we both know there’s no chance of that.”
“Do we.”
They paused, squinting suspiciously through the tints over their eyes. “Are you going to blackmail me or something in exchange for your cooperation?”
“Blackmailing you so I can do something I don’t want to do. Bold theory,” Patrick drawled. “But no—Why don’t you sit down, Kelsey?” He said suddenly.
Because they didn’t know how well they’d be able to stand back up again.
“I’m fine here,” was all they said.
Patrick hummed, and something in his eyes seemed to change. He was studying them a little differently now. “We’re going to be here for a while.”
“I’m fine.” They hoped they imagined how strained their voice sounded. Based on Patrick’s face, they didn’t.
“I don’t think you are!” Patrick finally said, exasperated and leaning forward over his knees. “You look like you’re about to fall over, which would be bad as you’re standing concerningly close to that fire.”
Kelsey looked over their shoulder, vision hazy and swimming just a little. The fire was pretty close to them. Just as they were about to move away they got hit with a wave of dizziness and locked their knees against it.
Squeezing their eyes shut and hoping the glasses hid it, they spat out, “Stop acting concerned as if you don’t have at least two guns trained on me right now. I know how these things work.”
With their eyes shut, they didn’t see Patrick standing up, quieter than the crackle-pop of the fire. They didn’t know Patrick had moved in front of them at all until they felt a hand on their shoulder. And then their knees buckled under them.
Patrick made a muffled noise of surprise, arms shifting lighting-fast to catch them before they hit the ground. Kelsey felt the wound in their side tear back open, and they threw their head back in pain. Their glasses fell to the floor. They barely noticed it with how blurry their vision was anyway.
“Kelsey,” Patrick breathed, barely loud enough to be there at all, then followed it with a curse. Frankly, that wasn’t far off from what they’d expected to hear from their rogue brother, but not…in that tone.
They weakly brought their arms up to shove him away, but he caught them easily.
“You’re burning up.” Patrick pressed a hand to their forehead, gently running their thumb over the dark bruises covering Kelsey’s eye. “What happened to you?”
“Get off of me,” Kelsey croaked, “I’m fine.”
“Why on earth did I trust you to look after yourself,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. His arms wrapped around Kelsey and lifted them up as lightly as a feather. They were certain their face would be burning if it weren’t so cold in the room. The last thing they heard before their swimming vision settled into darkness was, “You’re going to be fine, Kelsey.”
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omniscientwreck ¡ 3 years
Note
Let me combine both of your favorite things! I would love a little thing about Caduceus (in his infinite wisdom and questionable intelligence) trying to give either Essek or Caleb relationship advice that may or may not be actually helpful. Those two wizards are probably too much in their own heads to see what's right in front of them and could use a little nudge. Just imagine both of them going to Caduceus for advice on how they're attracted to the other and Caduceus just sitting there trying to fight to urge to facepalm.
Hello! Thank you for combining my two favourite things into this fic that took way too long but I'm quite pleased with! I hope you enjoy!
In which Caduceus has three conversations with two wizards fighting against a force bigger than either of them.
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The first of these conversations Caduceus had was expected. Gardening alongside Essek, teaching him how to sow beauty where destruction had laid waste had been therapeutic for both of them. Caduceus had never given up on the war criminal. It’s difficult to feel no sympathy for someone whose story was written across their face in blank but pleasant stares and a mask of platitudes.
The state he’d been in when they met him at the outpost had filled Caduceus with determination. He’d been as close to a wreck as they’d ever seen him and now kneeling alongside him and looking over to see a small self-satisfied smile as he observed the work they’d done, it feels like they’ve done something right. This second chance had been well earned and he has faith that Essek will continue to earn it for the rest of his days.
This Essek is determined to right wrongs, and he’s started with the garden. He pays careful attention to the plants, always asking if he’s unsure about the compatibility of certain species, and making sure to put them exactly where they tell him. When they work past the point when the sun disappears behind emerald leaves he takes off the gloves Jester had made him and digs his hands into the ground. It seems to bring him peace, it’s good that he’s found any.
Most of the time when they work it’s silent, creases pressed into Essek’s forehead. He sweats through the layers that serve to keep him safe from the heat overhead and always has to be cajoled into taking breaks or drinking water. It reminds him a bit of Yasha.
On the third day, when he’d nearly gone faint Caduceus has to intervene, “You don’t need to hurt yourself to repent you know.”
Essek takes great care to swallow and not choke on the water he’d been sipping, bad timing. The mask comes up again, “I don’t know what you mean.” he states flatly. He knows that Caduceus is smarter than that and it shows.
“Hurting yourself doesn’t change anything. It’s the creation of beauty here that tips your scales, not the destruction of yourself.”
He nods slowly, indigo eyes downcast. “I suppose you’re correct. I have much to atone for Caduceus. There is much work to be done before I will deserve any of the kindness you foist upon me.”
“Hey now, I decide who deserves my kindness. We all do.”
Essek nods again, running a dirt stained hand through his silver hair. It leaves streaks of dirt, Caduceus says nothing.
“It’s difficult to be made aware of your stark moral failings, to learn what it means to truly care for someone again. It’s difficult to care more than you expect and to know what is enough, if anything is.”
His eyes flick behind Caduceus, where he can hear Caleb explaining something to Luc and he understands more than Essek probably wants him to. “You’ll find enough.” Essek looks at him, eyes full of a delicate hope, easily shattered, “He’ll tell you when it’s enough.”
His eyes widen just slightly and a deep blush spreads across his face alongside a smile so small it’s like he doesn’t want to let himself accept the barrage of feelings it holds back. “If.” His voice is small but the weight is heavy in the tone.
Caduceus reaches a hand to cover one of his, “When. Remember, I see things the rest of you don’t.”
Essek smiles wryly at that, voice full of mirth, “Of course Mr. Clay the ever observing.”
They go in for dinner and Essek speaks up a little more, he’s a little more alive. The change is small, but Caduceus notices.
----------
The second conversation is less expected, completely unexpected if he’s being honest. Caleb arrives at the doorstep of the grove one evening around 8 months after they’d last seen each other. “Hallo friend, I hope I am not intruding.”
His smile is easier now, though still restrained by sadness. “Not at all Mr. Caleb you are always welcome here. There should be left overs from dinner, fix yourself a plate.”
Caleb allows himself to be ushered in and fussed over. He tells a few stories of the trial but Caduceus tries to steer away from that particular vein of conversation. It’s raw and it doesn’t look like he’s fully healed. There’s still one catch somewhere that he needs to loose himself from before the smile will be easy and free, before he can walk away from his past and toward the future.
“I am going to Aeor next.”
Ah.
When Caduceus doesn’t say anything he continues, voice laced with trepidation, “I am going to ask Essek to join me.” he wants Caduceus to convince him of something.
“Well, two wizards is better than one.” He eyes Caleb knowingly and the wizard squirms a bit under his gaze.
“It is just, a little strange isn’t it? The directions we are led in.” He trails off again, maybe he’s hoping for wisdom. Caduceus decides he can probably dispense something.
“You’ve never seemed like someone who wanted much to be herded into decisions to me.”
“It’s been a journey.”
Caduceus clears his dish and sets down a teapot, “It’s a journey you’re still on. One that might not have a definite end. Is it worth it to deny yourself happiness because you’re worried about whether you deserve it?”
That caught him a little off guard, copper hair shook a bit as he’d clearly gone a little further than Caleb was expecting. He likes to talk in metaphors so that he can hide from truths later, or at least pretend everything can have multiple meanings. It’s time for Caduceus to stop letting him twist words around in that expansive brain of his until the original meaning is obscured by hypotheticals.
“I cannot tell you what’s right Caleb, but if you came here for a reasonable perspective listen to the one I’m giving you.” He pours the tea and offers honey, “You will never know if you don’t go and I know you better than you think. You don’t like loose ends, not as long as there’s something to learn.”
He nods, staring into tea, they’re so similar and so stubborn that Caduceus can feel the loving annoyance usually directed at his siblings creeping in. “Caleb, stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault in the first place.” Caleb nearly interrupts but Caduceus keeps barrelling through, “Self-flagellation won’t get you anywhere, you’ll just end up with regrets and what ifs. Go explore Aeor, forget everything else for a bit. Do that thing the two of you do where you’re finishing each other’s sentences and nobody knows why you’re bothering to speak out loud because it’s obvious you’re thinking the same things.”
Caleb’s smile is smaller now, but lighter. “Ja mein Freunde, I think you will. Thank you for tolerating questions I don’t know how to ask out loud.”
Caduceus smiles back, “I think this will be good. If you need anything while you’re there don’t hesitate to reach out. Stock up on healing, you’ll need it.”
Caleb laughs at that and spends the night, before heading to Zadash the next morning, undoubtedly to clear out Pumat’s stock of healing potions.
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The third time this conversation is had it’s his fault. He doesn’t mean to start it, but honestly the situation is getting ridiculous and the sibling feelings Caduceus has to both the wizards are firmly cemented.
They decide to get everyone together maybe a year after the last conversation. It’s his first time seeing any of them since then and as soon as they’re all in the same room it’s like no time has passed at all. Essek had come to get him while Caleb gathered the rest at Beau and Yasha’s home in Rexxentrum. Jester wraps him in a crushing and loving hug, Beau gives him a punch that’s soft for her but still stings, Yasha offers clippings of flowers immediately, and Fjord’s hug is warm. Veth’s family is here and she looks happier than he’s ever seen her. Caleb greets him with the warmth that’s always burned behind eyes that hold less and less sorrow every time he sees him. He hopes they’ll drop it all together one day.
When they pop back into existence from the way Caleb and Essek look at each other Caduceus expects something to happen. He doesn’t know what exactly but they hold each other’s eyes in a profound way. There’s gravity to them and everyone can feel it, he’s getting tired of watching them fight it.
It seems so simple even though he doesn’t feel that kind of pull, to see where this is going. It’s feels like the days before a big storm, when everyone knows what’s coming and it’s getting a little ridiculous that you’re still waiting for lightning to strike.
Everyone else drinks, they cook and eat and tell stories. Caleb and Essek sit apart but spend the entire time stealing glances across the table when they don’t think the other is looking. Nearly always they catch each other.
Yasha plays on the bone harp, she’s gotten very good and Jester swings Veth around into a dance. Kingsley, three sheets to the wind, grabs Beau and whips her into a reluctant dance and her initial protests eventually bubble into laughter. Caleb sits beside Caduceus and Jester has switched to twirling a flustered Essek across the floor of the livingroom. It often turns to dancing with these people and he loves that they love it so much.
“As I recall you’re an excellent dancer Mr. Caleb, go cut in.”
He shakes his head, “Ah- I couldn’t. Yasha is playing and I don’t think you’re much of a dancer.” He looks over with a quirk of a brow.
“I’m sure Jester won’t mind a break.”
He coughs at that, “I ah-”
Caduceus shakes his head, “No, talking is done, this is getting ridiculous.” He puts a hand square on his back and guides Caleb to stand, “You two will weave circles of metaphor around each other until one of you drops. Go Caleb, follow gravity.”
He seems to understand, seems to accept Cadcueus’ words and as soon as he stands to full height, Essek is watching over Jester’s shoulder. She, thankfully, understands the same way Caduceus does and even sends a wink as she loudly proclaims, “Oh my gosh Essek I’m so tired, I think Caleb needs someone to dance with, go to him.” She extends her arm, releasing him, and his levitation doesn’t allow him to stumble at the abrupt change in momentum.
Essek and Caleb meet and Essek steps to the ground gracefully as Caleb holds his hand out and pulls him in.
Nobody says anything for fear of spooking the delicate peace that settles over both of them as they gently turn, but Yasha slows the music she’s playing a bit and a quiet celebration is shared in the eyes of the rest of the Nein.
Caduceus breathes a sigh of relief and Jester sits herself beside him, bringing an overly sweet juice she’d found on her travels for him to try. She tells him stories into the night, and the wizards never let each other’s hands go.
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xsugarysweetsx ¡ 3 years
Note
Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))
Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*
A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!
other fic here
Please enjoy~🍰
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There he went again...
The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?
This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him. 
“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI
“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.  
Just as he was going to leave you called for him
“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?
“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard
“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.
“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”
“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask
“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true
“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see
“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“
Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought
“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed 
“Kao-”
“Cherry” he interrupted 
“What?”
Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.” 
So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this. 
He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before. 
“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked 
“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked
He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear
“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him
“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“
“Shut up you big oaf!!“
<>
During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying 
“The Cherries have arrived“ 
On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist
“Don’t let me fall“
“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered  
“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk
“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek 
It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.  
Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.
“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“
A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers. 
*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”
“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on
“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“
“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news
“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?
“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence 
“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him
“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“
“Alright“ you smile back 
“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“
<>
“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“
“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“
To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.
Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls. 
“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile 
“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that 
‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier 
“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked 
“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“
“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said
“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family.  A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment
“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper
“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”
Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”
“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.
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I hope this was okay!❤️
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