#and 'thanks for not shooting me and stealing my money' was her having just helped him out of a jam and get his stash back or something
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Question for the gallery!
Was it ever actually specified that Clem and Jane's "Over a dozen jobs together, all successful" (3x11) took place over the 6 months? Or is that ONLY inference based on his "That's just in six months, imagine what a couple years would look like" (3x10) comment?
I don't know why I didn't clock it before, but I'm giffing, and in the 3x10 "Ten Months Ago" flashback, the very first thing Clem says to her is:
You again.
So clearly they've run into each other on jobs at least once before. He didn't get her name until that day ten months ago in Paris, after Dwire shot them, though.
#blindspot#blindspot 3x10#blindspot 3x11#blindspot thoughts#blindspot rewatch 2022#blindspot rewatch#blindspot s3 spoilers#i'm now strongly wondering whether their first-name-basis association was only 2 or 3 months#and that 'lot of money on that bed' was maybe their collective earnings that they had each made separately#and 'thanks for not shooting me and stealing my money' was her having just helped him out of a jam and get his stash back or something#comments and signal boosts appreciated#this actually may ripple out into several of my WIPs
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if you can, could you write op monster trio with a sick reader? (pre-chopper joining the team)
ive been sick for the past week and one piece has turned into my comfort anime, and i still have a lonv way to go haha
thank you in advance, hope you're having a nice day!
i got you my darling! im just recovering from being sick three weeks ago. (Sinus and chest congestion) please get some rest and remember to try and rest as much as possible. good luck (I’m still getting there with you :) )
Fluff, cute shit. And just vibing
Monster trio with a sick reader (pre- chopper joining)
Luffy
- don’t get me started 😭
- he’s going to want you to rest. Even if you’re feeling fine. He’s going to make sure you’re being taken care for by sanji (since luffy says his soups can help a cold)
-“ NO y/n.. rest.” he’ll say it in a stern like tone
- Out of the times he was serious outside OF FIGHTING
- he’s only harsh on you when you’re sick because he loves you that’s why.
-“I want you to rest! So you can get stronger!”
-“so when you’re strong enough ! I’ll be able to protect you.” He grins as he’s nuzzling your face.
- “hey y/n! how are you feeling?” He’ll walk in with a happiest grin on his face.
- if he doesn’t sleep in your quarters that night or during those nights. When he wakes up you’re the very first person on top of his brain.
-he’ll sometimes surprise you with drawings (I think he draws stick figures sometimes lol) “look what I made you!”-
-“see it’s you me and the treasure we found!”
-“what’ are those other people right there?” You pointed at that pft of the drawing.
-“oh that’s zoro with his swords and sanji smoking a cigarette, nami is there stealing the money. That’s ussopp shooting a cannon. Oh look that’s robin not giving a-“ you love how creative he is.
- when you get better he lets you do more tasks just to stimulate your brain.
- recovery is just him being excited because he knows you’re being loved and cared for
Zoro
-“woah you okay?”
- “y-yeah I’m fi-fine.” you replied in between coughs.
-ngl zoro will drop everything to protect you.
-“you have to rest.. dummy.” he’ll flick in your forehead because you’re a stubborn pendeja
-“noooo i Can get up..” you fell as he picked you up for almost fainting. It had been a few hours since you passed out, and zoro periodically checked up on you everyday. but today felt different.
-zoro went to go and see you. That was until he noticed a blonde male with curly eyebrows humming and holding a dish going into the same direction he’s going to.
-“what’s that for?” Zoro referred to the dish
-“oh this is for Y/n Chan! I heard she was sick, so I made her some soup to cheer her up” he mentioned, and asked why zoro was going to see you
-“I’m checking on her… that’s all.” He blushed lightly, looking away.
-“ you know ever since she came on the sunny. You’ve gotten soft.” Sanji snickered as he was keeping his laughter down.
“Why I outta—-“ he’s just going to argue with him usually but today he had no energy for that.
-“forget it. I guess you’re right I just really care about her you know .” The moss head huffed as he was given the dish.
- “shit I gotta finish dinner!- give this to y/n chwan will you?!” Sanji literally ran off to the kitchen just as zoro made it to your door.
“Oi, y/n Can I come in?” zoro poked his head out of the door.
-“ it’s open.” you mumbled as you were bundled into the blankets. You smelled the soup and poked your head out.
-“hey.. how are you feeling?” he placed the dish of soup down on the little table near you, and gazed upon you. Zoro had missed your face. He hated seeing you feeling unwell, and miserable.
-“I’m okay. Just bored…sick and out of my mind….what’s that for.?” You pointed at the soup
-“curly made you dinner and wanted you to eat first. He said he hopes you feel better.” He rolled his eyes over the words about a certain cook. You couldn’t help but chuckle
-“awe that’s sweet of him. But what about you?” You gestured him to come lay with you, and he plopped himself onto your warm body, clinging onto you like a little koala.
-“ why did you come back? I thought you were training.” you hugged him as he laid on top of you, he hadn’t thought about it like that. Zoro just missed hearing your voice motivating him to keep going, seeing your smile, hearing your voice, especially seeing you looking adorable when mad or yelling. Annoying him while training.
- Literally you were like his personal chihuahua. It just didn’t feel the same without your presence near him. Especially when y’all took naps together after training or if y’all just felt lazy.
-“i- well- um. I finished early. it was just..that I like- training with you more. It was annoying to not hear you yell my name ‘zoro this zoro that zoro can we take a break my boobs hurt?’ ‘Zoro carry me. Zo-Chan hold my hand. ‘“ he mocked your voice and it made you laugh as you nuzzled into it.
-“Awee so you did miss me..” you nuzzled him, as he pulled himself up to hug you in the bed.
-“don’t push it..” he rolled his eyes as he kissed the top of your head.
-“I love you.”
-“ I love you too you big goof.” You sighed happily as you knew you were the luckiest woman on earth.
Sanji
- now him HEHEHEHE OMG
- the minute he noticed you were sick, you missed breakfast and you never EVER MISS BREAKFAST! You get up around the same time as sanji.
- “y/n- my loveee! It’s time to get up!!” He sang as he tried to wake you up from you quarters.
-“ really? It’s too early .” you coughed into your fist. You sounded very congested, and your eyes looked so puffy. Your natural bed head with your textured mane, all over the place. he was in awe of how beautiful you sounded in the morning!!
-Sanji immediately gasped as he heard your voice. “Oh no! My Angel! You’re sick!! please lay down to rest! Your prince is going to take care of you!!” he kissed the top of your head, placing your tea near the night stand.
“S-sanji i’m f-fine!!” You tried to push him off your shoulders that was until you ran to the bathroom. acid reflux! or even food poisoning DUN DUN DUN. You must’ve felt like your guts were being rearranged and not the good kind. Luckily it was not sanjis cooking. Because he would’ve been crushed. It was someone else’s leftovers from the previous island you brought in.
-he immediately ran after you, patting your back. “It’s okay, darling. Let it out. you’ll be okay.” He’ll gently pull away your hair out of your face. when you finished throwing up you began to wash up. You went to the kitchen to see if you could put up your cup of tea and wash it.
-that was originally the plan until your blonde man put his hand over your hand, disposing his cigarette immediately after seeing you in sweatpants and a big baggy tshirt. His eyes go into heart shapes.
- “You look adorable as ever.” He coos and pinches your cheeks. you rolled your eyes at him.
-“oh hush your face babe. ..” you mumbled as he embraced you.
-“let me wash that cup for you. Go sit down I’ll make you a plate ” he kissed your cheeks, and booped your nose then forcing your stubborn ass to sit down, after taking your empty cup of tea away from you. you just loved how he shook his hips and sang a little song about you making your plate. it’s one of the reasons you fell in love with him.
-“are you singing [song name]??” You giggled
“Yup!!! Because it’s your fault! You got it stuck.in . My. Head.” He poked you jokingly and lovingly at the end of each syllable. Serving you a cup of fruits and sweets.
-“oh shut up you!! how was breakfast?” You asked him as you were tracing the table cloth, sitting in your seat. You’re not even used to the princess treatment that he’s been giving you.
-“ it was good, I already told everyone you weren’t feeling well, they went off the ship already to gather resources and meds to make sure you feel better” you smiled at him already as he made you some avocado toast, taking a bite of the dishes your face lit up, as you did a little happy dance.
- you know when the food is delicious when you do a happy dance when you eat.
- “Oh my how this is amazing.I’m so happy I can taste your food!” you smiled at him with a little sniffle
-“oh y/n merolineee! the way you compliments me takes me a few steps from ascending into heaven.”
- yes overall Sanji best boy to take care of you during pre chopper era.
#one piece imagines#sanji x fem reader#sanji x latina reader#sanji fluff#one piece x reader#sanji x y/n#zoro x reader#pirate hunter zoro#luffy x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro imagine#zoro fluff#luffy fluff#straw hat luffy
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In Light Of Girly Teengirl
So,We’ve all seen the talk about Girly Teengirl from SpongeBob and how she deserved better,right?? And I agree!! We all love Girly Teengirl,and I hope she’s doing alright in Farawayville right now-!!
But while we’re on the topic of fictional girls who deserve so much better than what they were handed,I wanna give another example to the world-!!
THIS GIRL!!!!! She has no actual name,but I’m gonna call her Becky. Say hi to Becky,everyone!!
You probably reconise her from the Girlfriend music video…in which was pretty much a whole video dedicated to making her day a living nightmare (Aswell as Avril clips too)
Let’s start from the beginning.
Becky and her…honestly really douchey boyfriend (Let’s call him Aiden) are on their way to have a date at some sort of activity centre!! It’ll be a lovely day for the both of them,right?
WRONG BECAUSE THIS GIRL IS EXISTS!! Let’s call her Jade.
And Jade has decided to go out of her way to ruin Becky’s day and love life. Because she wants her dream emo boyfriend and considers preps as sub-human.
The moment Becky and Jade cross paths,things go downhill immediately. For Becky,anyway.
Let’s review the various acts of meanery Jade has enacted on Becky!
Made her crash during the car racing event (That might’ve been in the rules,but it was so she can test Aiden’s Will to cheat)
Forcefully threw Becky out of the PhotoBooth to snag some photos with Aiden,as well as her lacky friends blocking the entrance for Becky. (Let’s just call them Ray and Shay. Have fun guessing who’s who! )
As Becky and Aiden were reenacting the famed noodle kiss scene from Lady And The Tramp with a churro rather than a spaghetti noodle…Jade rudely interrupts and steals the churro for herself,clearly rubbing it in Becky’s face. There was good money payed for that churro?? Did Jade even eat it afterwards?? That’s a perfectly good churro put to waste :(
During golfing,one of Jade’s lackey friends notice Becky **GASP** Actually enjoying herself??? HOW DARE SHE?? So Jade tries to shoot her Golfball to go Spesifically for the readhead’s,well…head. And it works! It sends Becky tumbling into the water,and they all laugh at her misery! Full out,pointing as they laugh cackling!!
And to finish it off…Jade swoops in. She gets all personal with Aiden…and they kiss. They do the cheating. Much to Becky’s understandable rage! Which unfortunately goes no where as her attempt to tackle Jade doesn’t work.
So,I think you get my point!! Jade is a meanie head. She was aiming to get her grubby hands on Aiden and pull her out of Becky’s hands if it’s the last thing she’ll do-!!
But what’s even worse…Aiden was into it
It’s quite clear in the music video that Aiden is not very good at boyfriending for Becky. If he was,the moment Jade started her antics,he’d pull out the “Woah,chick!! I have a girlfriend who I’m happy with!!” card!! But NOPE
He was definitely enjoying Jade’s advances more than he was than being with Becky. He was clearly gonna go with goofing around in the PhotoBooth with Miss PunkRock rather than have a churro with his BORING prep girlfriend
He wasn’t even attempting to help Becky get out of the water when she fell in!!
And of course…he cheated.
He had not a care in the world for Becky. Who cares about some preppy redhead who gets happy for doing the easiest golf hole ever??
He’s no heartthrob!! He smells like disloyalty and 10 cans of Monster Energy!
It’s Potrayed as all fun and goofy in the music video,but you gotta take it into view!
Realistically,what did Becky even do?? Yeah,you maybe can say her body language and acting Potrayed her as a “mean girl”,but I think she was moreover just increasingly ticked off by Jade and her punk pal’s treatment of her and her boyfriend’s disloyalty!!
So what am I getting at??
I just want to see how many people agree with me!! I’ve been thinking about that music video a lot…I REALLY hated how Becky was treated XD
Well…Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!
#girly teengirl#SpongeBob girly teengirl#Girly Teen Girl#music videos#music video#avril lavigne#Avril lavinge girlfriend#girlfriend Avril lavinge#Rant#Essay#essay rant#rant essay#Nostalgia#2000’s nostalgia#2000s nostalgia#ted talks#Ted Talk
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Shameless, Chapter 8
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: mentions of smut/sexual innuendos, minors going to jail/grand theft auto, angst.
“Hey…right on time…”
A blush rose to your cheeks as you held up a pie in front of your boyfriend’s face, “I brought dessert.”
“You always bring dessert!” he teased, pulling you close enough to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered closed as he took the serving dish, “and I’m not talking about the pie…”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re talking about a pie of a different kind?”
“Because I am!” he smirked, breaking the kiss. You rolled your eyes at him as he let you into the house, his arm haphazardly looped around your waist, “mom…Sofia brought us a pie she made!”
“Oh SOFIA” his mother cooed, coming out of the kitchen. You smiled back at Tony and took the pie from him. She gasped, her eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that a Boston Crème?”
“It is…I know how my Tony loves a good crème pie,” you teased, shooting him another look, “I figured I’d bring one by for after dinner. I know you have a sweet tooth, Mrs. Markovich.”
“You’re too good to me and my Tony!” she smiled, pulling you into a hug, “come in though. Come in. You can help me slice this and we’ll throw it in the fridge while Tony sets the table.”
“Come on, mom. You can’t go hogging my girlfriend!”
“Be a good boy and set the table, officer!” you playfully teased, pushing him towards the dining room. You gave him a playful smack on the ass as he stalked off towards the dining room.
“You’re lucky I like you.”
“Don’t I know it. Play nice and then after dinner we can go to your room and I’ll let you give me a whole different kind of crème pie…one that I want every bit of!” you whispered, before turning to his mother, who had already brought the pie back into the kitchen to cut it. You spared him a look, shooting him a wink as you went into the kitchen.
“I’ll set the table, mom!” he said loudly, before shooting you a look, his eyes traveling down to his hardening length. Your thighs clenched on instinct, and you knew that there was going to be no way you left after dinner.
“So how was your day, sweetie?” Mrs. Markovich asked, interrupting your dirty thoughts as you continued to watch her son disappearing into the dining room, reappearing every few seconds when he started to set the table.
“Oh…uh, great…I saw my grandmother…”
“Oh, that’s nice, sweetie…”
“Hey Grammy!”
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, glaring at Lip and Ian.
“Grammy it’s Ian and Lip…Frank’s sons!”
“Hi Grammy!”
She lit up when she saw you, “Sofia! I haven’t seen you in weeks! Thanks for putting some money on my books for more smokes…was just about to run out.”
“Sorry about being a no-show lately, grammy…school and work…but I brought Ian and Lip with me. Your grandsons…two of em anyways.”
“Well would you look at that,” she mused, raising a hand so that she could lean her chin on it, “I have never seen apple and spice, and everything nice, looking so…nice.”
“Thanks grammy!” Ian grinned.
“So how you doing in there?” Lip asked.
“Well, the foods not so great, but the pussy is pretty good,” she admitted with a shrug, “never thought I’d be the type. Oh, this dump ain’t so bad! I can get blow anytime I like.”
“Grammy!”
“Sounds alright!”
“Only thing that sucks is that they got me cleaning toilets,” she sighed, “I wanted to be on the kitchen crew. They won’t let me anywhere near the place. I mean, one meth lab explosion and this is what I get!”
“Oh, yeah…well it’s probably the two college kids that died in that fire, grams!”
“So, what do you want?” she asked.
“So, what do you want?”
You looked up, your attention caught up in the man standing at the door.
“Just wanna have a night out with our boy,” one of his fellow officers smiled, gently pushing past him and into the house, “Mrs. Markovich we are stealing Tony boy away so-why hello…we didn’t know that you’d be here, Sofia…”
“Tony’s girlfriend?” she asked, “why wouldn’t she be here?”
Another of the officers raised his brow at Tony, before looking to you, “you still wanted to date him?”
“Tony’s a good guy!” you smiled, sticking up for him, “not like any of you buttheads. Does Annie and Rachelle know you’re not on the clock and you’re trying to take my man away to some poker night or strip club?”
“Sorry guys…I’m staying in tonight!” Tony smiled, looking at you.
“Not even married, and it’s like you’ve already got a ball and chain.”
“No one else I’d rather be attached to!” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
“Did you boys want to stay for dinner?” Mrs. Markovich asked, “I always make plenty extra for Sofia to take home to the kids…”
“Oh no, that’s fine!”
“We wouldn’t want to intrude!” another one of the officers smiled as he started leading the others back to the door. He shot Tony a wink, “you two kids have fun…don’t do anything that we wouldn’t do!”
“So, I was thinking…”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“I’m all alone at the house right now,” you giggled, playing with the hem of your panties, “Fiona is at Deb’s school party with Carl…Kev and V are watching Liam…and Lip and Ian are out…”
“Are you suggesting I come over?”
“It’s up to you…but we would have the whole house to ourselves…” you smiled, “and right now I’m only wearing one of my camis and these panties that are nearly see through because you’ve got me so hot and bothered thinking about last night.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah…should have a few hours before everyone gets back too…” you hinted, “wonder how many orgasms you could pull from me in that amount of time…”
“I like the sound of that,” he agreed, “god…today is turning out to be the perfect day, Sof…”
“Come make it a perfect night,” you giggled, “come over and cum in me, Tony.”
“Shit…”
“What’s wrong?” you asked, hearing the change in his voice.
“Think I just got something…”
“You’re off duty, aren’t you?”
“There was a stolen car we were watching, and I see it on the move…I-fuck, I’m sorry Sof. I can’t let it get away though,” he sighed, “I’ll call you back after I catch the perp…hopefully we can salvage the night after I call it in.”
“Okay…yeah…I understand,” you sighed, “call me after?”
“Of course…”
“Stay safe.”
“Always!”
“Hey…where the hell were you?” you asked as he tried to kiss you. Instantly you took a step back from him and he frowned, “Tony?”
“I told you. I saw something about a stolen car-“
“Was it the car that Ian and Lip were driving?”
He froze. And instantly you knew he had something to do with it.
“Sof-“
“Did you call in the stolen car on Lip and Ian?”
“How much do you know about Fiona’s boyfriend Steve?”
“What does he have to do with it?” you asked, arms crossing over your chest.
“He’s been stealing cars, Sof…the car the boys were driving was one that I’ve seen him driving lately. It was reported stolen by someone who isn’t Steve…the plates were changed from earlier, but I remembered the numbers on the plate. He stole it, Sof.”
“No way…Fi said tha-“
“Sofia, Fiona is lying to you…chances are that she’s covering for that asshole boyfriend of hers. I already saw her at the station. Sh-“
“Well you have to know that Ian and Lip wouldn’t do anything like that,” you said desperately, suddenly feeling nervous for your two younger brothers, “Tony, you know Ian and Lip…that isn’t the kind of boys that they-“
“They have to testify to that then.”
“What?”
“Baby…Lip is 17, and Ian is 16. If they didn’t take the car, and you said it’s Steve’s, they have to tell the detective that.”
“Tony…this is Wallace Street.,” you reasoned, “South side. The yard! They aren’t going to snitch on someone like that. Th-“
Sof…Lip’s looking at five years if they try him as an adult,” he said firmly, collecting his face in your hands, “and Ian…do you really think they’ll let him into the military with grand theft auto on his record?”
You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, “Tony…please…”
“They have to, Sofia.”
“Please,” you begged, shaking your head as your eyes watered, “please Tony, you have to help them.”
He sighed, “I don’t know how much I can help, Sof…this is a pretty big hole they found themselves in.”
“Tony, please…” you begged as you bit your lip, “they’re my family…they-you can’t let this happen to them. They’re practically your family too with everything that’s been going on…”
“I care about Ian and Phillip, Sofia, but-“
“Tony, you can’t let them go to jail!” you begged. You pulled his hands away from your face and put them on your stomach, “I-I wanted to tell you before everyone got home so that we could surprise them…I-I didn’t want it to come out like this bu-“
“Sofia?”
“We’re pregnant Tony…”you cried, “please…I-you can’t let this happen to our baby’s uncles…you know that Ian and Lip aren’t bad kids…they wouldn’t ever steal a car. Sure, Carl maybe, but not Ian and Lip.”
“Y-you’re pregnant?”
You nodded, sniffling, “I-I didn’t think anything of it when my period didn’t come last month because I’m on the pill…but I-I started getting nauseous last week at dinner…and my meds are slipping so I-“
“That night…when we-when you were upset about Monica coming back to town…”
You nodded, sniffling, “I’m seven weeks along, Tony. But that’s not it…I-I can’t take my meds if I’m pregnant…I-I’m scared…and I can’t deal with something like this and that all happening…”
“I’ll help as much as I can, baby,” he promised sadly. His eyes went from your stomach to your own, and his hands shifted until he was cupping your face, “I’ll figure it out…but after this we need to figure out what we’re doing…I can’t let you live at the house with all that craziness if you’re pregnant and off your meds…I can’t have something triggering you and us losing the baby…or me losing you…”
You watched as your little brothers walked through the doors of the station. Your heart raced as Debbie clung to you while Fiona held Carl close to her. Kev was smoking a step away while V held onto Liam.
“He really got them off!” Fiona said in disbelief.
The younger kids ran to Lip, and Fiona ran to Ian. They embraced one another as Tony came out behind them. You walked up to your boyfriend tears in your eyes, as you embraced him, immediately sobbing into his chest, “thank you Tony…”
“I can’t ever ask anyone for another favor again…you know that, right?” he asked softly, his arms weaving around your waist, “the kids have to keep every inch of themselves in line…”
“They will…I promise…they will.”
You noticed everyone was a bit too quiet, and you turned. Your brothers were looking gratefully at you. He pulled your face to his and kissed you, “I did it for us…you know that, right? Did that for you.”
“Thank you, Tony…”
“We should probably tell them…about the baby…”
You nodded.
Fiona was tearing up as she turned to you and your boyfriend, “Thank you…”
“We uh-we wanted to tell you guys something,” you said slowly, leaning into your boyfriend’s arms. He leaned against the station, “I-I’m going to be moving out…”
“WHAT?”
“WHY?” Fiona all but shouted, “What ar-“
“Tony and I are pregnant.”
Debbie’s eyes went wide, and she raced up to you, while Fiona gasped.
“Holy shit!” Lip commented.
Ian’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head, “you’re leaving?”
“You’re pregnant?” Fiona asked.
“Seven weeks,” you nodded, looking up and over your shoulder so you could look into your boyfriend’s eyes, “me and Tony are going to start looking at places…but I’m going to be moving out before the baby’s born…”
“You’re leaving?” Debbie asked, copying Ian’s question.
“We-we don’t want to add another two people to the house,” you admitted, leaving out the part of you primarily agreeing to leave because you didn’t need the stress when you couldn’t take your medicie, “it’s already bursting at the seams…but we’ve already talked about it. We want to stay close by…and any time you guys need anything, or wanna come over…or get away from Frank-“
“The house will be open to all of you guys!” Tony finished, cutting you off, “anyone that needs a place to stay to just get some air…you guys are welcome over any time.”
“Come on,” Fiona urged softly, nodding her head towards the house, “looks like we’ve got two reasons to celebrate today then.”
You smiled and started walking with your siblings. Tony let go of you as you walked, and you turned, “come on…”
“Got a few things to tie up here,” he nodded firmly, “you guys go get the party started…I’ll be over after I finish up with the detective and the case.”
You nodded and ran back up to him so that you could press your lips to his in a sweet kiss, “I love you, Tony Markovich.”
“And I love you, Sofia Gallagher.”
“Fi…what the hell are you doing?”
“Steve wants me to leave with him…”
“What?”
“Steve…he asked me to come with him.”
“Come with him where?” you asked, stopping your sister as she opened the suitcase and threw it on the bed, “What the hell are you talking about, Fiona?”
“I’m going to leave the country, Fi Fi. I’m going to be selfish for once,” she smiled, tears lining her eyes, “Steve wants me to go with him to Brazil!”
“What? For How long?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “and I don’t care…after what’s happened the past few months…why shouldn’t I be selfish? Why wouldn’t I take him up on that? I mean, you had the past few years. You got to finish high school and get some college done and now that you and Tony are finally together, he’s got you knocked up…you’re starting your life, so why should I continue to put mine on hold?”
“Fiona…are-are you jealous of what Tony and I have?” you asked, “are you seriously going to pick up and leave because I’m going have a kid and don’t wanna make the house even more crowded, so I said I’d move out?”
“I want to be happy, Sofia!”
“And you’re not, now?”
“FUCK NO!” she spat, throwing some clothes into the suitcase, “why the hell would you think I was happy? I never get to do anything that I want. Always have to put my paychecks into the squirrel fund or-“
“So, you’re just going to walk away?” you yelled at her. “You’re just going to pull a Monica and abandon them? Fuck, Fiona. Lip is gonna be seventeen in a few months, and Ian is going to turn 16. Debbie and Carl are nine and ten. Liam is still a toddler.”
“Not my problem,” she shrugged, “you were worried about too many people being in the house when you had your news about being knocked up, well guess what…me and Steve aren’t gonna be here. So, you can keep Tony and your new baby in your room. Take the house. Take the kids-“
“Fiona, what the fuck!” you hissed, “stop acting like this. You’re acting like I’m going to be dead…or that I’m trying to take over by putting out some ultimatum that doesn’t exist. You’re acting like I won’t still help care for the kids.”
“I don’t have to worry about it anymore, Fi Fi…because it won’t be on me anymore…it’ll be on you…or Frank…I don’t care. You’re getting your happiness…and well, I deserve mine too! Have a nice life, sis!”
Chapter 9/Season 2
#shameless#season 1#lip gallagher#fiona gallagher#ian gallagher#carl gallagher#debbie gallagher#liam gallagher#tony markovich#steve#jimmy lishman#south side#chicago
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Top 10 Characters I want to see come to Disney Mirrorverse
I am a fan of Disney Mirrorverse. What impresses me the most about it is the story and most of all the character designs. However, there are a lot of other characters who I think have a lot of potential to come to Mirrorverse, and I'm gonna give you my top 10 characters that deserve to come to Mirrorverse. For each pick, I'll be going over what type of character they would be (Melee, Tank, Ranged, or Support), what they're playstyle could be, and maybe how some could be incorporated in the game. Now, this is my picks and not yours, and your picks can be completely different. Now, let's dive right in.
10. Goliath (Gargoyles)[Tank]
Starting off with the protagonist of a 90s Disney tv show that helped define a lot of childhoods (along Ducktales and Talespin). Goliath is a warrior that has a lot of abilities, from gliding, super strength, his basic claw strikes to even a bit of magic, a healing factor, and a rage mode. I see him as a Tank character, given he also has super durability, given he's a stone statue by day and defender by night.
9. Namaari (Raya and the Last Dragon)[Melee]
I had to add a villain to this, simply because we have a small number of villains than heroes in Mirrorverse, and I chose Namaari because not only would she be awesome in Mirrorverse, but it should make sense that she come to Mirrorverse since Raya is in the game. I see her Namaari as a Melee character having a playstyle and appearance of an Assassin, given her skills in martial arts and the use of two blades, but she could have an ability where she uses her crossbow for a ranged attack, and an ability where she calls on her big cat to attack enemies, or she can ride on it for some mounted attacks.
8. Robin Hood (Robin Hood)[Ranged]
Even though we have an archer in Merida in Mirrorverse, I think the OG archer of the Mouse House should come into the game, heck, Merida and Robin Hood could have a friendly rivalry to see who the better archer is (old school archer vs new school archer). But seriously, he would obviously be a Ranged character were he could have the standard abilities of an archer character in any MOBA/RPG game, from volley shots, charged shots, shooting arrows in a cone, etc., but I can also see Robin have an ability where he tosses out three bags of money and if his allies collect one, the will be healed (think Cupid from SMITE and his ability Share the Love); also he could have an ability where when he attacks an enemy, he has a chance to steal health, items, and of course, currency.
7. Merlin (The Sword in the Stone)[Ranged]
We all know that Merlin is one of the most amazing mentors not just in Disney history, but in all pop culture history. Being such an amazing and powerful sorcerer, he would be a Ranged character, easily harnessing Stellar Magic to give him access to many different spells. I could even see him being a chief advisor of the Guardians, aiding some of them in training to giving them some helpful advice.
6. Wart aka Arthur Pendragon (The Sword in the Stone)[Melee]
When Merlin comes to Mirrorverse, Arthur should definitely join him. Arthur does have Excalibur, and thanks to user s10127470, Arthur's Mirrorverse design could have him wear a magical suit of armor created by Merlin to enhance his physical abilities. Arthur's playstyle could possibly be similar to his SMITE counterpart, but given that Merlin is teaching him, Arthur could also be like a Spellblade or an Eldritch Knight, using a bit of magic to empower his sword fighting. While Arthur is still in training (you know, to be a warrior and a freaking king), he's got a lot of allies who have a lot of experience.
5. Kidagakash "Kida" Nedakh (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)[Melee]
Atlantis: The Lost Empire is a very underrated movie, and it shouldn't be, so having someone from the movie come to Mirrorverse would give it some representation, and while Milo Thatch would also be a good candidate, I had to go with Kida. Much like Merida, Raya, and Mulan, Kida is a warrior princess (in Kida's case, a warrior princess turned queen) with a lot of abilities, from using an Atlantean spear, martial arts, throwing knives, and using Atlantean magic, so her playstyle could go from her warrior side or her mystic side, but thinking about Freya, Maman Bridgitte, and Ao Kuang (SMITE), I think that Kida could be like how they play: having physical basic attacks, and having magic abilities. So, a Melee attacks like using Atlantean magic to power up basic attacks, shooting magical shots, place a shield around an ally, or heal them.
4. Tarzan (Tarzan)[Melee]
Another warrior from Disney that needs to make it into Mirrorverse. He would clearly be a Melee character where he would use his spear for basic attacks, and even an ability were he throws it like a javelin toss, and taking some inspration from Nidalee (League of Legends) and drawing inspiration from a Totem Warrior from DnD, where he could summon a gorilla spirit to attack enemies, and he can also use his signature cry to raise the attack and critical hit stats of his allies. So yeah, this jungle daddy definitely deserves to make his mark in Mirrorverse.
3. Li Shang (Mulan)[Melee]
I believe Shang could play similarly to Mulan, but with some creative differences. He would be a Melee character where he uses a sword, like Mulan, but he would also use a bo staff and bow and arrow, and his passive could reflect his lack of sense of pain where attacks from enemies that hit him take half the damage they would normally do. He could also use buffs to raise his allies stats like critical hit chance, focus, etc. He could be incorporated in an event where he oversee's the Guardian's training session and personally training certain Guardians.
2. Prince Naveen (The Princess and the Frog)[Support]
Since Tiana is an alchemist in Mirrorverse, it only makes sense that Naveen to come to the game as a bard, given his love for music and his main instrument being a small guitar. Naveen would obviously be a Support character where his playstyle can take inspiration from characters like Apollo (SMITE) and Sona (League of Legends), using his music to heal, protect, and buff up his allies, while damaging and debuffing enemies.
Honorable Mentions
Davy Jones (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest)[Melee]
Shan Yu (Mulan)[Tank]
Captain Phoebus (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)[Melee]
Esmeralda (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)[Support]
Pocahontas (Pocahontas)[Support or Ranged]
Darkwing Duck (Darkwing Duck)(Ranged)
The Headless Horseman (The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad)[Melee]
Prince Eric (The Little Mermaid)[Melee]
Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty)[Melee]
I had to put Prince Phillip on the top spot because he should've already been in the game when it first came out. I mean, the guy is one of the most proactive characters in the Mouse House and he clearly knows his way around a fight. He would be a Melee character utilizing his classic arsenal: the Sword of Truth and the Shield of Virtue. Also, since Princess Aurora is coming to Mirrorverse, Prince Phillip needs to join her.
That's it, everyone, feel free to comment, but keep any and all shady comments to yourself, or be blocked. Thank you and God bless.
#disney mirrorverse#disney#prince phillip#the sword in the stone#gargoyles#merlin#atlantis the lost empire#kida nedakh#mulan#li shang#pirates of the caribbean#prince naveen#tarzan#namaari#robin hood#the hunchback of notre dame#Esmeralda#phoebus#prince eric#davy jones
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The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog Liveblog!
Part 1; the Dining Car
OKAY WE'RE FINALLY DOING THIS READY, SET, LEGO (wait wrong fandom–)
So insert character is first time working for the train huh, okay cool cool
Oh god now i have to name them uhh (yes i will be referring to they/them, non-binary characters ftw)
… I went with Trainee (get it cuz uh train and yeah I'll see myself out)
Darling your scribbles are fine, better than mine actually
Trainee is a nervous train wreck *ba dum tss* yeah ok I'll stop making train jokes
Oh dang here comes the conductor. Apparently todays the conductor's last day after thirty two years.
OOHH THE TRAIN IS CALLED MIRAGE EXPRESS
I like how the sonic crew didn't forget about spagonia Jejdkddlfkkdkfk thought that was a one time thing
The menu only has 3 things, Why? lmao
Wait they're ALL MICROWAVE MEALS?? Can't they afford a chef? This is someone's speaking who has not gone onto these fancy train cars yet so forgive me
Oh fun tidbit the trains actually used for event's only.
"So I'll need you to do everything in your power to make sure our paying guests are well taken care of, understood?" Sir yes sir
AAAHHHHH AMYYYY SHE LOOKS SO ADORABLE WITH THE BIRTHDAY CAKE HEADBAND AND THE DRESS
HELP TAILS IN HIS DETECTIVE OUTFIT HE'S SO CUTEE
oh so it's Amy's birthday party!! Murder mystery theme eh? Someone's an Agatha Christie fan~~
ROUGE AND KNUCKLES YES also Rouge girl you just got on the train don't go stealing gift shop pens just yet lmao
"What cast of characters am i stuck with" OH SHOOT HE KNOWS 🤣
"Why can't i be normal for one second" you and me both Trainee
Also Sonic immediately bolting to get chilli dogs lmao, never change blue gumball dork
WHOOOO LOOKIT ALL OF THEM, ALSO HOLY MOLY BLAZE IS HERE TOO???? COOL COOL COOL
EHH okay so now i collect the tickets, like a normal person, this wont be an embarrassing trip
"well the birthday discount certainly helped!" You and me both Amy
OH NEW LORE DROPPED, AMY'S A FAN OF TRUE CRIME PODCASTS!!! (I wonder if she would like the Magnus Archives…)
"Here's the key that unlocks any door in the train" hmm seems kinda sus, but oh well birthday girl gets the birthday key
and Blaze is here to grace us with her presence and elegance, reminding why I love her. Love how she just casually tells us that she's visiting from a separate dimension like it's nothing lmao
Sooo Blaze has sweet tooth cannon? Yes.
LMAO TRAINEE NO "Why can't i win in this group"
Rouge darling please give the conductor his money back it's to early to steal anyones lunch money
Y'know it's a bit awkward knowing that Trainee just realised he's talking t The Sonic The Hedgehog, like my dude did you not know what he looks like? Either way Sonic's pretty chill
"I brought my own sparkle gelatin. It's a jelly that can melt away even the most jaded hearts" Tails imma need you stop being so cute and wholesome for ONE SECOND OKAY I CAN'T TAKE IT ✨🥺
Awww Trainee and Tails are jelly buddies!!!
"Thank goodness someone on this train is normal" buddy wait till you see the kid fly an airplane and can fly with his two tails lmao
Espio why you holding that rose who is it for 👀
DID ESPIO SERIOUSLY READ TRAINEES MIND?? (Edit he did in fact, something about his Ninjutsu or something)
"Can you cling into walls" "i most certainly can" okay just tell the conductor that, I'll now know where to find you then. In the air vents.
"Do you sell gift bags here" ….. shadow you didn't forget to bring Amy a present her birthday party right?
"Robot arm reminding me that one AI from Wall–E, hopefully we're not going to that route
"Actually, uh Train, the conductor wants me to have the whole plate" lmao you ain't slick Trainee
Okayyy last but not least we have Vector, who does not in fact have his ticket, aanddd now we're supposed to find it
"I wonder what cake topper Sonic picked out for me" "...shoot, i was supposed to give Amy a cake… what am i supposed to do?" Ya done goofed you blue gumball dork
"You don't need to bow everytime you see me" sure Blaze it's not like i was stress responding. definitely.(seriously tho i love her dialogues)
Okay imma take a gamble and ask shadow if he sees any tickets
"Only three items on the menu..? You don't even have drinks listed" THAT'S WHAT I WAS SAYING!!! Also we only have like three drinks too, water, coffee, and chaos cola
"I'll have to take you up on the coffee soon. Just the beans and A spoon, though" …… shadow um what??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN BEANS AND A SPOON ONLY YOU HOT TOPIC WANNABE??? NOT EVEN WATER OR MILK???
I spent 5 minute hitting every random object where's the ticket – OH WAIT LEFT ARROW
NAPKIN IT'S IN THE NAPKIN
"Lost ticket added to you inventory" YES BUD LET'S GOO
Poor trainee has to double shift on being the microwave expert AND security guard smh, Trainee better has a good paycheck
I'm hoping up on here saying to PLEASE TELL ME WHO DID ALL THE SPRITES IN THE GAME THEY'RE ALL SO WONDERFUL AND EXPRESSIVE MY GOD
…. Oh. OH!! SO THAT'S WHY THEY'RE ALL WEARING SPECIFIC CLOTHES. Amy's you nerd she even got them all lore cards i love this girl
So Sonic's role is to be the ship captain. I do wonder why a ship captain of all roles since their in a train setting but ill take
AJDHKJHFKJSLKJFLKJFFKJLA I LOVE THIS SCENE
Oh shadows supposed to be a locksmith?.... I wasn't the only one who thought he was gonna be a barista stationed at the cafe right? My guy might have to dress a little bit more specific for a locksmith
and of course we;ve got our birthday girl as the journalist!
Sweet got a map of the train baby!! Alsooo the lounge looks suspiciously close to the conductor's car…
Well with that out of the way let's get started!!!
Oooohhhh ok cool cool cool got i
"This way there's always a neutral party" yes tails you go you smart cookie
Y'know it's very sweet of all of them to play along with the murder mystery roleplay. Everyone wish they have friends like that
Tails you adorable smart nugget how come you keep getting cuter and adorable by the minute 🥺✨
"My lore is that I'm a nosey person turned journalist" aww c'mon birthday girl don't bring yourself down lol
SUDDEN MYSTERIOUS SHAKE
Oh wait it's just the train moving
Why is it even shaking THAT much???
Anndd screen goes dark, welp i guess that's it for the dining car scene for now
Aanndd that's all for part 1 hope you guys enjoy and see you guys around part 2!!
#the amount of times i have to switch back between two devices just to edit this one postvis unbelievable#part 2 will probably come a bit late as i try to wrestle the Tumblr app post editing#anyways hope this entertains you guys in a way#I may have spent the majority of the game just gasping for air that i keep forgetting too screenshot scenes lmao#and if there's any inconsistencies throughout the whole post no you didn't see that#eh whatever im having fun#sonic the hedgehog#sth#the murder of sonic the hedgehog#tags to add later#sonic
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"15. The scene that will give you, personally, the most joy." !
thank you mari!!! i decided to make this a fun little vaguely set in non time specific wildfire piece, nothing serious all just based on the joke that jestiny’s true soulmate is the noble opossum.
summary: mary may does some pest control. jessie ends up with a pet that isn’t really a pet. (set vaguely in wildfire. no pairings, implied references to johnjess but john is not in this one, just nice folks being bothered.)
wordcount: 2.7k
warnings: (humanely executed) animal death (not the opossum). references to canon typical gore. mary may pov and the occasional daydreaming of jestiny murder that entails. disclaimer opinions expressed not my own, everyone stay safe and do not approach wild animals.
“— ’cause come to think of it, what were they gonna do with a bunch of fucking pumpkins anyways? I mean, seriously? The fuck can you cook with pumpkins? Not to mention —”
Mary May let out a long exhale to steady herself. She hoisted the weight of the varmint rifle onto her shoulder. She balanced it in place with one arm while the hand of the other reached to situate the protective covering in place over her ears, hoping it would help to drown out the grating squawk of Jestiny’s rambling as well.
“— much fucking work it is to hollow out a pumpkin? Then they’re still gonna have to go through the hassle of canning —”
Damn. No such luck.
Still, the noise was better dampened than it had been, and she tried to tune the rest out by force of willpower as she focused on the rattle of the trash bins shaking from the skittering within.
“— that much you can even make from it, anyways...”
Fall’s End had a pest problem.
The bin wobbled, something heavy thudding against its side.
A very serious pest problem.
“...peggies going to all that fucking work so that — what? John Seed doesn’t have to spend the apocalypse without pumpkin spice lattes?”
Some of the pests, she was allowed to shoot.
There was a clack of sharp nails drumming against plastic — the quick flash of the lid popping open, and her eyes followed the darting blur of gray that emerged until it was scurrying between her sights.
A crack of gunfire, an oddly tension easing slam of the butt of the rifle against her chest in blowback. She glanced up from its scope, looking to see the dying twitches of the large rat laying on the ground beside the trash.
“— much you wanna bet all the gutted corpses of so-called ‘sinners’ hanging up around here are actually just folks who didn’t get his coffee order right? Ha, come to think of it —”
Jestiny had not flinched at the gunfire. As best as Mary May could tell, she hadn’t even paused her monologue.
Mary May noted the slight ring that vibrated in her eardrums even with the shield of her muffs — it would have to be absolutely deafening for the redhead, wouldn’t it?
“— spent all his damn money on a stockpile of fuckin’ artisan crafted organic coffee beans or something, and that’s why they have to steal shit now instead of just buying —”
It would make sense, actually, to think that she couldn’t hear herself speak.
She grunted, adjusting her stance and glancing to the side, taking notice of the man emerging from the church in the distance to investigate the sound of gunshots.
She held her palm up in a half-wave to the Pastor.
“Pest control,” she shouted in explanation, nodding towards the body of the rat bleeding out on the ground. “Rats have been rooting around the garbage like crazy lately. Gotta take care of it before they worm their way inside and get at the food supply,” she added, pulling aside one muff of her ear protection. “Think there might be something bigger in the mix too. Racoon or skunk or something. Fucker keeps waking me up in the dead of night making a racket squealing and banging around out here. Always scampers off before I can run out and catch it.”
Jerome nodded, settling into place beside her. “Do you need any help?”
“Just the company’d be nice,” she answered, darting her eyes towards the redhead, who barked out her own form of greeting then proceeded to catch Jerome up to speed on her musings of the day as Mary May tried to tune her out. “Sorry about all the noise,” Mary May added, before pulling the trigger to produce another sharp pop of gunfire.
The plump body of another rat fell to the ground from its place peeking out beneath the lid, landing with a soft thud.
She gave a satisfied hum, glancing to her side to note that Jerome still kept his hands pressed firmly against his ears even as the boom of gunfire faded, while Jestiny once again hadn’t bothered to shield hers at all, or stop talking.
( — Jesus fucking Christ, was she even human — )
( was she? )
She paused briefly to rub the sore spot on her shoulder, trying to ease a tightness from her muscles that continued stubbornly settling deeper with every stray word she caught from the woman beside her.
“— wonder if John teaches his pumpkin and people carving classes at the same time for the sake of efficiency. Regular fuckin’ Martha Stewart of corpse mutilation —”
She pulled the trigger as a particularly large lump of gray dashed along her field of vision, satisfying deafening crack and recoil pushing her back — too far, she realized as her shoulder jerked towards the ground, and her foot slid beneath her.
Not pushed, she was being pulled — a hand was gripping at her shoulder to yank her back, throwing her down with a harsh impact of rocky ground against her shoulder blades.
There was a shatter of glass, and she looked up just in time to see the pellet strike the window of her spare bedroom and splinter it, a blotch of bright copper hair — the woman who had thrown her down, she realized — streaking across her vision a second later.
“Are you fuckin’ crazy?!” the redhead shouted over her shoulder as she ran forward towards the garbage cans Mary May had been targeting.
“Are you alright?” Jerome asked deep with worry, rushing to her side to slip a supportive hand under her back and lift her to sit upright, scanning her for injuries.
“Are you fucking serious?” Mary May grumbled in reply, unsure to whom.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Jestiny screamed back at her, crouching down beside the dumpster. “The fuck do you think you’re doing? Shooting like that?!”
“The fuck do I —” She felt the impulse to reach for her gun again. “I’m shooting rats, like I have been all morning!” she barked, brushing the dirt from her clothing. “The fuck are you doing?!”
“This is not a fucking rat!” the redhead screeched as her hands shot behind the garbage, auburn brow wrinkled with some strange mix of fury and panic. “This is a fuckin’ opossum you almost killed over here!”
What?
“What?” she spat, leaning forward.
“I said you almost killed a fucking opossum, you fuckin’ lunatic!” she briefly shot her head to the side to snap, before directing her attention back in front of her. “Look at him,” she cried, pulling from behind the dumpster to hold in display the most hideous excuse for an overgrown rat Mary May thought she’d ever seen, with its coarse gray fur and long, bald tail. She shuddered as Jestiny brought the rigid body of the creature into her lap, limp pink tongue rolling out from long rows of sharp teeth to fall atop the bare skin of her leg. “You scared him so bad he’s playing dead.”
Mary May scoffed, pushing herself up to stand with Jerome’s supportive hands following her. “Well move out of the way so I can make it more than just an act,” she said, bending to reach for her rifle. “That must be the big fucker who’s been causing me trouble.”
Jessie’s eyes bulged, her jaw dropping to flash a look of shocked offense. “You cannot kill a fucking opossum.”
“I can,” she replied flatly. “It’s just another one of the vermin roaming around. I don’t care what kinda big, special rodent it is. It’s a nuisance, and a threat to our food supply.”
“Opossums are fuckin’ marsupials, Mary May!” she growled, jerking her head forward and baring teeth in a snarl. “Not rats!” she added with a glare, before looking down at the animal in her lap with softening eyes. “The females have pouches, even. Like kangaroos,” she said with a beaming smile, running a hand over the exposed belly of the creature. “Looks like this little critter is a fella, though.”
“A kangaroo sized rat,” she nodded, deadpan. “Real fascinating, Dep.”
“Very interesting. You seem to know a great deal about opossums,” Jerome added with a nervous smile and a tone of disarming praise one would expect to hear used to appease a child throwing a tantrum as he took a few careful steps towards the redhead.
Mary May wasn’t entirely sure if it was Jestiny or the opossum that hissed at him. Either way, he stopped in his tracks.
“And you can give us an earful on everything you know about ’em later,” Mary May said, putting a hand on her hip. “But right now I gotta deal with the one rifling through my trash.”
Jessie threw a protective arm around the creature, scooping it up to cradle against her chest. “No fuckin’ way,” she ground out. The opossum’s shiny pink nose twitched, sniffing at the woman’s chin then breaking its paralyzed act to crane its head further and rub against her jaw. “Over my dead body are you fucking killing this opossum.”
Was that supposed to be a threat instead of a bonus?
“Don’t test me, Rook.”
“That’s a fuckin’ order,” she barked, rising to stand as if it gave her some authority, opossum still held to her bosom. “As a fucking law enforcement officer I am ordering you to not touch a hair on this guy’s little head.”
“Rook —”
“Deputy Rook, to you.”
“Do you seriously expect that to fly?” She cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t have any authority to tell me not to kill vermin on my own —”
“He’s not vermin,” she interrupted, looking down to press a kiss to the creature’s head. “You know how rare opossums are around here? I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen one. They aren’t native to Montana,” she said pointedly. “This little guy must be a transplant from down south somewhere, like me,” she chuckled, scratching behind the animal’s tiny rounded ears.
Mary May thought that was the first time she’d ever heard Jestiny mention anything about where she was from.
She thought about suggesting Jessie and the opossum both leave and go back home.
“As far as I’m concerned, that makes it an endangered species around here,” Jessie said resolutely. She patted the opossum’s back at the statement, and its sharp little claws dug into the denim of her overalls to pull itself up them, crawling up her chest to sit perched on her shoulder, as if taunting the bartender. “And therefore under my fuckin’ protection as law enforcement.”
“You’ve have to be fucking kidding me.”
“I’ll arrest you Mary May, I swear to —”
“This isn’t the sort of thing we should be letting ourselves get upset over. I’m sure we can —”
“I’m not gonna sit around and let that thing eat all our food and spread disease all over town until our resistance is taken down by a fucking opossum,” Mary May said firmly, stepping past Jerome.
“Opossums have low fucking disease rates, thank you very much! They’re fuckin’ immune to rabies!” she shot back. “They eat shit like ticks that do spread diseases, in fact! So tell Hank here thank you for the lack of Lyme disease goin’ around!”
“Hank —?”
“Be more likely to catch something from that stupid fuckin’ show dog y’all are always fawning over for whatever fucking reason than this little guy,” she grumbled, scratching the animal’s chin. “And he’s fuckin’ cuter, too.”
Mary May shook her head. “You think that thing is cute?”
Jestiny cocked her head in what appeared to be genuine confusion.
“Well, yeah,” she answered, flicking her eyes towards the opossum. “Just look at him!”
She pulled the animal from her shoulder by the tail, allowing the hairless length of it to wrap in a coil around her arm so that he hung upside down by it, grinning up at Mary May with wide rows of glinting pointed teeth as he swung suspended.
Her stomach turned. “Is this one of your shitty jokes?”
“I’m serious,” she huffed, pushing out her bottom lip. “I’ve always thought opossums were adorable,” she insisted. She turned her arm so as to reel the creature in by the tail and flip it over, so that it now rested balanced atop her forearm as she gazed at it.
“I mean, the beady little eyes.” The animal looked up at her, making an affectionate chittering sound as if in response. “That long pointy snout,” she added, tapping a finger against its pink nose. “The big ol’ grin with all them sharp teeth,” she continued, trailing her fingers back to scratch between its eyes. “Those tiny grabby hands,” she laughed, craning her neck until the opossum reached out to grasp her nose with bony, clawed fingers. “So cute,” she squawked, extra nasally from the pressure of the fingers gripping her nose.
Mary May stared in silent awe for a moment. “You know, Rook, I think this is somehow both the most and least I’ve ever understood you.”
“Well,” Jestiny cleared her throat, finally breaking the adoring gaze she’d held with the opossum to swing her head towards Mary May. “Only thing you really need to understand is that this little guy is sticking around for good.”
“Not in my fucking —”
“You know,” Jerome whispered to the bartender in subtle interjection, stepping towards her to speak under his breath as the redhead resumed cooing at her overgrown rat. “I think this could actually be good for her.”
Mary May shot him a look of disbelief.
“I used to minister to prisoners, and some of the prisons I would visit had programs that allowed the inmates to take in shelter animals, and keep them as pets,” he explained, looking over his glasses at Mary May. “Having something to care for really helped them. I saw many of those who were struggling suddenly develop a new sense of responsibility and kindness. There’s even evidence it helps with rehabilitation into society,” he murmured. “A pet could be good for her.”
Mary May squinted at the Pastor. “Isn’t you thinking to make that comparison in the first place a sign she should be in a prison?” she replied. “Not in my fucking bar with a —”
“Jerome!” the redhead chirped, suddenly right in front of them and shoving the opossum once again hanging off her arm into their faces. “You think he’s cute, don’t you?”
“He’s —” Jerome coughed, adjusting his glasses with a nervous laugh. “Noah must have put them on the arc for a reason.”
“Well, I’m not as generous as Noah,” Mary May said, crossing her arms. “You wanna invite a opossum into your own house? Fine by me. But as long as you’re staying in mine, you’re not bringing in a dirty, ugly trash animal as a fucking pet.”
“Pet?” Jessie scoffed, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Don’t be fuckin’ stupid, you can’t keep an opossum as a pet. They’re wild animals.”
“Are you —”
“Hank here isn’t meant to be a pet,” she shook her head, holding the opossum close to her so that its skinny snout pressed against her cheek. “We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us,” she shoved her chin up high in the air to whine in an unnatural falsetto. “We don’t even belong to each other.”
“You also don’t belong in my bar.”
“Breakfast at Tiff —”
“I got the reference.”
“Pretty okay movie, right? Doesn’t live up to the book, but…” she shrugged. “Anyways, you don’t have to worry about Hank and me,” she said, tucking the opossum into the front pouch of her overalls, then tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against its, as the animal looked back up at her. “He’s not a pet. He’s just gonna hang out with me.”
“Not in my —”
But the redhead was gone, skipping through the back entrance to the Spread Eagle before she could finish the statement.
Mary May sighed, clicking the safety on her rifle and hoisting it over her shoulder to carry into the bar with her as she followed the woman — thinking better of it, as she reached the door, propping it against the wall instead.
“Jerome,” she paused in the doorway to turn back and address the Pastor, eyes briefly falling to the rifle again. “If I go to jail for killing her, try to see to it I get sent to one of the ones where they let you keep pets,” she said, turning forward. “Normal ones,” she added with a shiver. “Not opossums.”
He nodded, gravely, smile falling.
Some pests she was allowed to kill.
Some she wasn’t.
#writies and wordies#oc: deputy jestiny ellen#local writer does everything in her power not to work on chapter 16#fic: pest control
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Mr and Mrs Liars Chapter 1
The prologue
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*Jake POV*
If you can't beat the enemy, join them.
In the beginning, it was sheer hell, stealing while being watched. So I couldn't get the USB out and use it to get out of here. There was only one way and i hated it.
After a year, it was bearable. In a certain part.
It was much better not to make them angry. I could see from the table how they treated the other hackers they had working with them and how they treated them when they failed at their jobs. Some beat them, others took them away and didn't come back.
I kept my eyes on both the computer and everything around me.
Anthony Athem—clearly his last name wasn't real—the boss of the whole scam, it was easy to be friends with him if you laughed at his bad jokes and showed him what a great job he did.
Part of the dirty money reached the candidate of whom he was a partner. They saved me the trouble of searching for information, here I had what I needed.
The more time passed, the more he hated it. Just the thought of being able to get out of here someday and get back to MC was what kept me sane from doing something crazy.
I hoped she hadn't been really upset that I had never arrived at the agreed time.
There were nights when I had nightmares about her. Everyone was hurting him. And she screamed for help. I wanted to hold her hand, but I never reached her, they kept her away from me.
When I woke up, I told me that it wasn't real and that she was probably fine.
I had recently had the pleasure of the USB finally being able to make an appearance at a time when Anthony had decided I could be trusted. I had told him about how I had done the robbery methods, giving directions to the rest of the hackers. I even made jokes with him. All of them false. Every time I was friendly with him, a lump formed in my throat. This wasn't me. It wasn't my style. But all for getting back with MC.
I make sure nobody pays attention to me and I open a secure chat from a perfectly secure organization.
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Nymos
Is it already done?
Comet
Yeah all done
Are you sure of this?
I don't think it's a good idea
This could get you in big trouble 😓
Nymos
What do you want me to do?
This is the only way I have to get out of here.
And that they sink.
Comet
Yeah, but...
And what will happen to you? 😑
Aren't you worried that you can't see her again?
It's the government, man
I don't think they're going to let you go free at first 🙄
Nymos
I'll be fine.
:)
I know what I am risking.
Comet
I know you lie, Nymos
Oh well
The idea is yours, I only take orders
Nymos
Did you say something to Dog?
Comet
Well of course!
What's crazy is that he thinks like you 😒
He will try to back you up if anything happens
He's also working on covering the security for the victims of all those bastards
He is grateful to you for having trusted him
Nymos
I'm sorry I hid it from him all this time.
But his faith back then was so blind.
Comet
Contacted those who are not implicated in all of that information you collected
They came and were arguing like crazy
Looks like there's going to be a good one all over the country 😅
And all thanks to you
Nymos
As long as a little of all that scourge is cleaned up, for me it's as if the world is on fire.
You already know what I want more.
Comet
Yes, Yes
Your dear little angel
😆
Nymos
Shut up.
How long do you think they'll take?
Comet
Well, according to the tracking of their mobiles
They should appear rightAt this moment
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A loud knock is heard upstairs.
Screams start to be heard from a lot of people and I see our security guards draw their weapons.
I touch the buckle for safety, checking that it's still there and I take shelter under the table, avoiding a possible hail of bullets.
Anthony's men fire in the direction of the door. Some fall because they dared to shoot them.One of them falls directly near me. His eyes beg for help, wanting me to hand him the gun.
Knowing that these people were criminals, I pushed the gun away when I saw that I could touch it with the tips of my fingers. I refused to collaborate with them.
"Lower all weapons!" the ‘intruders’ shout "Everyone!"
One by one, the survivors drop their guns to the ground and put their hands up. I wish I had seen the look on Anthony's face when he saw them enter.
"Where's Nymos?!” One calls me and from under the table I take out my hands first as a surrender too, and then I get up from under the table very slowly "Second team, take him away! " A group approaches me and grabs my arms. I really don't want to make jokes with these "Third team, take everything as evidence!”
When I go out, the sunlight bothers me. I close my eyes tight, stunned.
"Come on, walk." One of the men with me pushes me forward. It's better not to piss them off.
The positive of this: That I've come out of there.
The negative: I think I'll get a good one for having put my hands where I shouldn't have put them.
I thought they were going to take me straight to jail, but actually, they took me to the CIA facility.
So, locked in an all-metal cell with a horrible mattress, I wait for them to come for me.I play with the USB between my fingers, looking at it a little regretful for having done what I have done. At the same time, this little thing has saved me.I hear the door and as quickly as I can, I hide the small object in my belt.
An older-looking woman with short blonde hair looks at me and sighs.
"Hello Jake.”
"Mathilde." I give her a casual wave of greeting.
That woman, she had been Dog's wife for only one year. They knew it didn't work if he was always on the lookout for security 24/7 rather than having a single break to pay attention to his wife.
But if I had to speak as well, she was not far behind. She was even colder than him.
"Remember what I told you the first time we met?” She approaches me, arms crossed ”At your sixteen years? ”
I sit on the edge of the bed, resting my hands on my thighs, unconcerned. "That I wouldn't get into trouble?"
"And look where you are now, being all grown up and getting into trouble." I notice that she is carrying a folder in her hand.
"Do you know what this is?" She picks up the folder, setting it on the bed. I pick up the object and open it. They were names of those she had investigated. Just that there was a little mistake.
"This list is too short, more than half is missing," I say, looking at the only sheet that was there.
"That's what we got."
I understand. Dog didn't give all the information so I could do it. He wanted me to find a safe conduct if they tried to do something to me.
I put the folder on the bed and try to clear my head. They left me with nothing to stay awake with, so I needed a shot of energy for all this stress.
"You're a mess," Mathilde says, looking at me with her green eyes. "I'll have you tidied up a bit, how long has it been since you shaved?”
"Don't you want to talk about the list first?" I look at him with some annoyance. The joke was not funny. She knew that I had been locked up.
"I'd rather talk to someone neat before going down to business, I'm not that cruel."
"Very considerate knowing that I've investigated quite a few people you trust."
"They're no longer trusted." She takes the folder from her and looks back at me, annoyed. "Seriously, you're a complete mess."
I nod sarcastically, watching her walk away.
I throw myself into bed, tired. This was going to last a long time.
I had not been allowed to fix myself. They didn't trust me to have anything sharp in my hands.
I waited again in the room for Mathilde to arrive.
Once she enters, a smile slips from her lips.
"Do you see? Much better.” She claps her hands, looking at me like she's watching her son on his first day of school. “Shall we go now?”
"First I want to know what I'll get in exchange for this," I make sure first, not moving from my spot.
"You? Something in return?”
"I have a lot of information about a lot of people." I walk around the room, until I reach her and circle around her, intimidating her. "Many of them who work here and aren't even on that list, I've only counted three people. And there are quite a few."
I see how his jaw tenses. Frowning afterwards.
"Jake, you've hacked into very important government documents, they may be from criminals, but what you've done is a crime. You can't get off that easily."
"Bullshit!” I exclaim, while pointing at myself "I've spent six years*, SIX YEARS! On the run from the government, I have so much information I could bring down the entire CIA if I wanted to. Things are done my way, or there's no deal. I'm tired of running away and I'm not going to want to lock myself up again."
The tension could be cut with a knife.
Mathilde seemed about to explode.
"It would be positive, you would work with us uncovering the criminals.”
"Yes, locked up in a cell while you take away my freedom for having done something that NO ONE" I wave my hand, indicating the room, implying that I was talking about the entire building "has lifted a fucking finger to fix things."
She sighs trying to relax, bringing a hand to his forehead.
"This is not in my hands," she replies, almost with ‘pity’. But I know it's not like that "I would have to talk to the higher-ups and it might take a long time. Accept our conditions, Jake, you have no choice. "
I approach her face, threatening. I was tired of running away. Tired of being locked down. I just wanted to finally have a normal life. I wanted to get back with MC. I wanted to hug her again, tell her I was okay now and that I was sorry for worrying her.
"Well, either you accept my conditions or you won't see that complete list." I could feel my throat letting go of her angrily.
Mathilde recoils, not in fear, but in disappointment.
“We will insist again tomorrow. Until then."
She turns around, leaving me alone.
“Fuck!” I kick the bed in anger.
I had looked for it myself.
Until they agreed to my conditions, there would be no list. I would push as hard as possible.
<< Don't worry MC, I'll see you again soon. I will not let myself be separated from you. >>
*MC POV*
I tried in the end to move on with my life, to leave Jake behind. I received nothing from him.
There was no text, no call, nothing to let me know that he was okay or if he had actually thought better of being with me.
On the weekends, I always went to Duskwood. I would rather go there than stay at home waiting or crying. I didn't want to go through it again. If I stayed at home, I could go crazy.
But perhaps there was also another reason…
It was a ritual for me to first go through the Bar Aurora. For my friends it was crazy, but for me… Well, it was a pretty big change.
I stop to look at myself in the rear view mirror of a car, fixing my hair. Was my makeup right? Maybe I went a bit too far?
"Don't worry, MC, everything's fine," I tell myself, sitting up.
I walk into the bar and see Phil clearing tables. Now that he had entered, he couldn't back me down.
I walk up behind him and put my hands on his face, covering his eyes.
"Who am I?" I ask, leaning close to his ear.
"Dan?” He replies with a hint of voice.
"Really? Dan?” I show annoyance. Well, faking it.
"Come on MC, you can't use those tricks anymore." He turns around and smiles at me maliciously. "You always arrive at this time, do not think that I do not know your schedule.”
"Are you stalker?”
"Everyone has a schedule to come here.”
I blush slightly. Last time I came, I extended my visit. I had accepted him on a date and wanted to give him a chance. It turned out pretty good.
"I wanted to tell you first," I say, a little embarrassed. He leans on the table, his hands in his pockets. He looks at me attentively. ”I have decided to change my cell phone number. No more waiting for messages from Jake.”
"That's fantastic!" He takes my hands, I'm shaking "Do I have something to do with it, Princess?”
"Oh come on, don't feel so important" I replied, trying not to show it. Yes, he had to do with it.
"That in a week after our date you have decided to do it, I think I have to do something with it.”
He caresses my cheek gently. I try to calm myself down.At last I don't feel guilty. I feel like I can do it.
"I wouldn't mind a second date…" I mutter, looking away in shame.
"What? I didn't hear you." He places his hand on his ear, teasing me with that wicked smile. "What did you say?”
I'm upset because I texted him that I wouldn't beg him for a second date. I had my pride in the ground for a foolish thing.
"I want a second date..." I repeated again, whispering this time.
"No, I can't hear you, louder."
"Okay you win Phil! I want a second date!" I exclaimed, with my face red.
He makes a movement of celebration, as if he had scored a goal. It bothers me because deep down I also knew that I was going to accept it.
Phil had been very nice to me ever since we met. I clearly had no romantic interest in him, but I did have fun with him. Besides, there was Jake. With him there were different feelings.
But as soon as he found out that I stopped sending messages to a person who was never going to come back, he took the opportunity to ask me out several times. I admit I played hard to him, partly because I wasn't ready and partly because I was wondering what Hannah and Lilly would say to take their mind off Jake. But… Couldn't I move on? When I talked about it with them, it seemed good to them, they understood that at least I was worried about him just like they, who hadn't received messages either.
We didn't want to think of the worst.
Likewise, I couldn't continue to have that phone number and get nervous every time I received a message and go for it the first time. Pick it up, see it wasn't Jake, and start crying.
I remember that the first time that someone saw me in that situation was Phil. And I told him everything. I broke my promise to Jake. I don't know if it was because I was mad at him or because I just wanted to talk about him. He promised never to say anything about him to anyone, to avoid getting me in trouble. Not to protect Jake. But me.
"You see it? It costs nothing to be honest with oneself.” He pulls me closer to him with his hands on my hips. My body tenses.
“I think we're skipping at least three dates doing this,” I say quietly, flinching at his touch.
"Are there any rules?" He brings his face so close that I can feel his lips brush against hers.
"I guess the rules shouldn't matter anymore..."
Right. There would be no rules anymore. I wouldn't have to take so many steps to go out with someone, I wouldn't have to hide that I have a boyfriend and I could if I wanted to have a photo of us as a wallpaper.
He ends up kissing me. I don't stop him. I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled my body closer to his.
He picks me up and sits me on the table behind him, kissing me passionately all the time.So this was no hiding? I feel happy, so much that I let go and put my hands under his shirt, caressing him.
"Oh, don't fuck with me..."
We stop kissing and turn our gaze to the entrance of the bar. Dan carries two cases of beer and looks at us like he's a disappointed dad.
I gets off the table and fix myself up, as does Phil. Although he seems amused by the situation.
"Wow, we sure are punctual to interrupt," Phil says, putting an arm around my shoulders.
I want to die of shame.
"Would it help to take the leave if I put bleach in my eyes to erase this scene from my mind?" Dan starts walking over to the bar, setting the boxes down on it.
"Not if it's not accidental."
"MC, I'd be careful with this one if I were you," he points to Phil and I'm attentive to his talk “last weekend he went out with a girl, don't trust him or he'll break your heart.
"I was the girl, Dan, but thanks for caring." I try to avoid looking at his face, out of embarrassment, raising my hand as if to point at me.
"You have bad taste in men."
"Careful, you're talking about your boss."
"I'll deduct him from his salary for interrupting us," Phil continues joking, or so I think, and smiles at him wickedly.
"Then I'll report you for it."
We laugh and he continues to work.
I break away from the hug, resigned because I had to go in part to meet the rest of the group.
"Well, I have to go now." I tried to sound dramatic, making him smile. "I'm sorry that I left you alone with Dan."
"Wait, come here." He pulls me in and gives me a little kiss, to which I respond slowly.
I would love to stay longer, really.
"I forgot to do something."
I pulls him away and pulls out my phone, texting him.
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MC
Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow?
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"Here's my new phone number."
He lets out a weak laugh, looking at the screen.
He starts typing and I get a message. I can't help but smile.
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Phil
I'd love to ;)
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"I don't know if you're going to be able to last that long." He winks at me and I raise an eyebrow as 'Are you serious?'.
"We'll see who is missing whom."
On my way out, I decide to send the rest of the messages to my friends. They immediately put me in the group that we had. But things got out of hand.
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Dan
Guess that Phil and MC were making out?
Jessy
WHAT!? 😵
Cleo
Very good joke Dan
Thomas
It's true?
Dan
Sure, they almost didn't get it on one of the bar tables
Lilly
Come on guys, don't exaggerate 🙄
Jessy
BUT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT MY BROTHER!
MC
DAN!
You couldn't have shut up?!
I wanted to tell everyone about it when we met!
😫
Hannah
So is it true?
Don't you deny it?
MC
Why deny it...
Jessy
Meeting right now!! 😤
MC
But if we were going to meet up to see each other 😅
Thomas
I think she's really mad, MC
I have a feeling that she is going to interrogate you
MC
See you now
Hannah
Just in case, come prepared with a shield
MC
😂
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Now I had to deal with some disappointed friends. It's going to be fun.
We had arranged to meet in the market square. I couldn't stop shaking thinking that they were going to read me the primer as if they were my parents.The weather was nice, nice. Perfect for a spring day.
As soon as they saw me, Jessy was the first to approach. She held me by the shoulders with her eyes wide open.
"How come you didn't tell me that you liked Phil?" Her reaction made me laugh, she looked like a gossiping teenager. "I'm your best friend! How can Dan know before I do? "
"Actually…" I glance at Hannah and Lilly, who covertly avert their gazes.
"I'm getting disappointed all the time... "
I look at Cleo who looks disappointed. She doesn't like Phil at all. I walk over to her, with a smile.
"Angry?" I ask, trying to sound calm.
"No." A lie "Well, I guess I have to face it, does that mean we're going to be seeing him a lot with us?”
"Don't worry, you don't have to be with us if you don't want to."
“Nonsense!” Hannah imposes herself on us, holding my hands "MC, we're going to support you in everything, if one day we meet and he's there, nothing will happen.”
I try not to cry knowing that she supported me when I told her.
I nod and wipe a few tears away. Afterwards I get a hug from Lilly.
"Don't be a crybaby," she tells me, with a laugh "it's not that big of a deal." You have bad taste in men, it’s okay."
"Do you know that Dan said the same thing?"I say, rolling my eyes.
"It's no coincidence that two people tell you that." Thomas crosses his arms, looking at me like a worried brother.
Hannah smiles at him and leans on his shoulder, also looking at me like another sister.I can't deny how lucky I am to have such a large group of friends.
They had become so important to me that I was sure I was never going to leave them. They were my family after three years.
"I'm still mad that you didn't say anything to me." Jessy gives me a dirty look, or tries to.
"Don't be mad, please!" I throw myself at her in a big hug and we laugh.
I definitely could not have been happier in a long time.
*Jake POV*
It had been a couple of months and they still hadn't accepted my proposal.
I kept myself sane by moving around the room, so I wouldn't lose mobility in my body.
I hear the door open and Malcolm is let through. Dog. It surprised me that he came out of his lair.
“How are you, kid?” he asks me, keeping his hands in the pockets of his suit.
"Kid?" I let out a sly laugh. “I’m thirty-three years old."
"You're younger than me," he laughs, leaning closer to me to speak in a whisper. "Have you accepted their deal?"
I look seriously at him. It can't be that he came here to try and convince me of this.
"No, I haven't accepted, or can't you see where I am?" I point to the room in a dramatic way. "The food is good, but the facilities are shit. The bed is made for torturing."
"Okay, keep it up." I startled and crossed my arms. "Don't let them manipulate you, Jake, you may have done something illegal, but what you did wasn't bad.”
"Why haven't you given them all the information?"
"Because you need it more than I do," he looks at one of the cameras and then at me "you always have to have a pass. If something happens to you, I'll have to get involved."
"Even if it does cause problems with Mathilde?"
"Don't talk to me about that witch without a broom."
He separates from me now, more relaxed.
By inertia, I take one of my hands to the buckle of my trousers. So far no one has found out that it was a USB, just something that they left me to entertain me when I started playing with it.
"Is she okay?" I ask, worried about MC. "Does anyone know of her existence?"
"I haven't been able to see anyone name her, she's totally safe." I calm down upon hearing her words. "To them, that girl doesn't exist.”
"I'm glad." I sit on the bed with a long sigh. I look at him thankful. "Thank you for everything Dog.”
"You're welcome." He heads to the door and knocks. "Keeps insisting, in the end they will give in if it is so important to them.”
"How's it going out there?"
"Everyone's nervous and they look at each other." They open the door and he steps out. "See you soon, kid.”
"See you soon, old man."
Dog leaves and the door is closed behind him.
Loneliness accompanies my room again.
I close my eyes and imagine MC. In front of me. Technically I'm not a real criminal, I've just done what was right. Get that information that until now nobody had dared to investigate.
Until I see a contract where I talk about my freedom, I'm not going to lift a finger in offering them the information. I know it's risky for all the criminals out there on the loose, but if they're that interested, they'll have to do it as I say.
Chapter 2
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Six years*: In Duskwood it says that he spent four years, and at the beginning of this fic it was two years after that, hence the six years on the run.
#duskwood#duskwood jake#duskwood mc#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood phil#duskwood phil x mc#duskwood hannah#duskwood thomas#duskwood lilly#duskwood cleo#duskwood dan#duskwood jessy#duskwood richy#duskwood fanfic#duskwood everbyte
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Hiii, 42!
hey!! thank you for asking!!
42. opinion on the wheeler family?
ok well god damn. starting out strong today. so my opinion on the wheeler family is that i feel like at one point there was probably a lot of love. at least from karen. i think karen tries to be both a mother, a confidant, a best friend, and someone that could be a safe place. not only for her children but for their friends. i think, genuinely, she wants to be included and having her children shut her out and keep her in the dark for the past two and a half years is so sad to me. i don't necessarily care about karen, per se, but i think between her, the sinclairs, max's mom, and dustin's mom i'm just sad about the cluelessness of the parents.
i feel like at one point nancy and mike were both relatively close to karen. the evidence in some of the things karen has said to them, the way she hugs mike at the end of seasons (she did it like each season didn't she? mama's boy). but then like any teenager, that shit gets strained and there are things being kept from the parent and i don't think the upside down shit helped, like at all. so they're not connected to their mother as well as they once were and at least she has holly, right?
ted tho. ted can die and i don't think it would do anything. at least to the family dynamic. though, we as the audience would lose out on the actor's excellent delivery of deadpanned republican dad.
mike & nancy tho? they're siblings. you can feel the siblingness. mike being 100% an asshole saying shit like "what's the test on, human anatomy?" or stealing money is like 100% some bullshit my brother would have said if i was as pretty and cool as nancy and got to "study human anatomy" with steve.... anyway. i do love that they made like that pact to talk to each other more and i don't think either of them have. classic. by themselves, i don't really care for michael but i love nancy. i want her to both be my girlfriend but also like the one who saves me from the bad guys. i want to watch her shoot monsters. i want to worship her.
i want absolutely nothing bad to happen to holly. i have worried about her since holly jolly and again when she saw the trees move. like she's a child leave her out of this pls.
does any of this make sense? probably not but i'm always accepting more questions!
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hiiiii angel!
I have a request for rafe x reader x jj.
In which Barry uses the reader as a collateral after rafe accumulates late payments for the substances he consumed and jj steals the 25K from him. The reader has been hanging out with both boys since she has a strong connection with both. Barry has been watching them all three interact over the last month and finds the reader as the perfect way to make them pay for their mistakes. Barry confronts both boys and right when he’s aiming to shoot the reader either JJ or Rafe get in the way and take the shot instead ( you can choose who) and the other boy promises to take care of the reader and protect her from all dangers. Meanwhile the other one is bleeding himself to death while giving his life for reader. This idea was so random but I’m so obsessed!!! Please please please! I’m so excited it would mean the world to me<3
a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for this request. I actually loved writing this and i hope i did it just the way you wanted! please let me know if you enjoyed it! ily<3
Warnings: swearing, talk of drug abuse, gun play, gun fire, blood, mentions of death,
Word Count: 5.5k
my writing
protection - rafe cameron
It's a warm day out on the Cut. As you walk through the tall grass and slap away a mosquito that landed on your arm, you think about how JJ is going to want to swim once you get the boat out into the water, and you forgot your bathing suit. You hope Kie has one that she left over at John B's, maybe you could steal it.
Faintly, you hear the hum of a dirt bike as it gets closer to you, but you think nothing of it. You're holding a six pack of JJ's favorite beer in your hand, excited to get the day started. You, JJ, John B, and Sarah all planned to take the boat out for a joyride and a day on the water. Kiara's working and Pope is preparing for his scholarship interview, an excuse that made JJ call him a nerd.
You hear the bike start to approach you, so you turn to see who it is. You've never seen anyone with a bike this close to John B's house. You don't recognize the guy under the helmet, but you don't really have time, because he pulls the bike in front of you and stops, scaring the shit out of you.
"Hey there, sweetheart," you hear, and immediately know the voice of the slimy drug dealer himself.
Barry removes his helmet and smirks at you, eyeing you up and down. You look disgusted with him, not sure what he wants with you but knowing you want no part of it.
"Get out of my way, Barry," you snap.
Barry's an asshole, always has been. One of your other good friends, Rafe Cameron, buys coke from him on the regular. You've been trying to get Rafe off of it and even went so far as to see Barry to get him to stop selling to Rafe, but it didn't work out. Barry just called you 'princess' a lot and then told you he'd lose a fuck ton of money if Rafe ever gets clean.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Barry laughs, but it's sarcastic, "Are those beers up for grabs?"
You instinctively pull your occupied hand back, away from him so he can't grab it.
"No," you say, trying to side step him. He hops off his bike and walks in front of you, quickly boxing you in.
"Listen, sweetheart, it's nothing against you. But I'm gonna need you to get on the bike," Barry's voice is thick, making you swallow your anxiety.
You wonder if you screamed for JJ, would he hear you? Or would Barry rip your throat out before any noise even came out?"
"Not a chance," you reply, trying to keep yourself calm.
Barry snickers, then brings his beady eyes back up to yours. He steps closer, making you step back, until your back hits the bike and you had no way of getting away from him.
"I'm gonna say it one more time," he tells you, "And then it might have to get ugly. Get on the fuckin' bike."
Your heart is beating a mile a minute with no idea what this man wants with you or where he's taking you, but you know better than to go anywhere with him. You shake your head, sure words will fail you right now. Barry just sighs, then reaches up to his back and pulls a gun out from his pants. The beers fall from your hand to the ground, splitting open and spilling out on the ground.
"Oh, now, that's just a big waste," Barry uses the gun to point down at the beers, "Get on the goddamn bike. Now."
You don't see any other option; essentially it's live and get on the bike, or die right here, less than half a mile from John B's. You can already imagine the memorial JJ will build for you when they find out this is the spot you died in. Somehow, it comforts you. Only a little.
"Why are you doing this?" you ask him quietly as you turn to face the bike.
Barry watches as you sit down on the back of his bike, then uses the gun to slowly stroke up your bare thigh. You can smell his breath as he leans in to speak to you.
"Your boys both owe me. Big time. So, I'm taking the one thing I know they'll pay good money for," he smirks, then hands you his helmet, "Don't want you to get hurt, sweetheart."
You want to throw up every time he calls you that, but instead, you grab the helmet from him and put it on. You look back, hoping maybe, for some reason, JJ had wandered out and would just so happen to see you. All you see is trees. Barry hops on and starts up the bike, then turns back to you again.
"Now, you're supposed to hold on here," he tells you, wrapping your arms around his waist, "But if you feel so inclined to move your hand a little south of that, well, I don't mind at all."
You gag and loosen your grip on him as much as you can, not wanting to touch him any more than you have to. He starts up the bike just as his words sink into your mind. Your boys both owe me. What does that even mean?
Barry takes off, not bothering to go any slower with you. It's a pretty short ride back to his place, but feels longer to you because of how sick you feel. Every thought goes through your mind; he's taking you back here so he can kill you in private, he's going to rape you, sell you to some old Kook who will keep you in the basement. All sorts of things you think of, none of them good.
When you get back to his house, he stops the bike and you immediately jump off. So does Barry, who winds up just throwing the bike down in the grass. You throw the helmet down too, not caring if he wanted you to do that or not.
"What are you talking about?" you snap, watching Barry act surprised by your outburst, "Who owes you money? What boys? Why me?"
Barry rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then reaches over and grabs onto your wrist. You try to pull away, but his grip is firm.
"Don't fucking start that shit with me," he snaps at you, "Get in the house."
His tone scares you, and even though you know you shouldn't, you obey. You just want to know why you're here and what the hell is going on.
You walk up the stairs to the porch and sit down on the couch, the same one Rafe sits on every time he buys from Barry.
"Tell me what's going on," you say once you're seated.
Barry picks up a blunt from the table and lights it up, silently holding it out to offer you some. You shake your head and scrunch your nose up, disgusted with it. That makes Barry grin.
"Rafe owes me money," Barry states simply.
You raise your eyebrow, "So?"
Barry looks over at you, giving you the 'are you serious?' look. He sits down in the chair beside the couch, taking a long drag off his blunt before he speaks again.
"So," he says, "Did you know JJ stole 25k from my house?"
Your expression falters and your jaw drops, telling Barry you know nothing of it. That almost makes him feel guilty for scaring you so bad back there, if you were totally innocent. But he needs his money, and you're his one way ticket to it.
"JJ wouldn't do that," you say, not being able to stop the hesitation in your voice.
"Really?" Barry snickers, "Well, he did. And since both of them boys seem to be wrapped around your little finger, you and I are gonna become best friends until I get my money. Understand, sweetheart?"
You glare at him, now understanding what he wants with you.
"So, I'm just collateral," you confirm, watching Barry's lips turn up around his blunt when you speak.
"Exactly," he smiles, "Now. Do you have your phone with you, or did you drop it when you spilled my beers?"
You huff at him and roll your eyes, then lean over in your bag and pull it out of the front pocket. Barry snatches it quickly, then asks you what your code is. You tell him, knowing if he can just get the boys here fast, you won't have to be alone with him anymore.
"Should I send them a picture of you holding up a newspaper? Don't they do that in all the hostage shows on TV?" Barry laughs to himself, looking up at you for confirmation.
You shrug, not wanting to speak to him any more than you have to. Barry rolls his eyes.
"Them boys really put up with that attitude?" he snaps at you, "Goddamn, I could never. You better straighten up, honey."
You just stare at him, deciding it's best if the two of you don't speak. Barry hits send and then tucks your phone in his pocket.
"That should send those two idiots running," Barry laughs, taking another hit from his blunt and then looking over to you again, "You sure you don't wanna try this? Might help you fucking relax."
You glare at him once again and then shake your head, looking away from him. You can tell out of the corner of your eye that he stands up, but when he grabs your chin and forces you to look over at him, you gasp.
"Straighten out, or I'll do it for you," he says, then roughly releases you.
You sigh and sit back on the couch, praying that at least one of the boys will arrive soon. Barry sits back down in his seat and tries to strike up a conversation, pretending he hadn't just manhandled you.
"So, which one are you gonna choose?"
Your head snaps over as you stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell he's talking about.
"What?" you ask, your voice giving away your confusion.
"You know," Barry shrugs, "They're both, like, crazy in love with you. So, if I have to shoot one to teach the other a lesson, which one would you pick?"
You roll your eyes, "You're fucking crazy."
Barry leans forward and stares at you, blunt hanging from his lips. He slams his hand down on the table in front of you, trying to get your attention.
"They stole from me," he shouts now, "Both of them. Someone's going to fuckin' pay for that."
You just nod your head, hoping he'll just shut up now. You don't want to talk about how they stole or Barry teaching either of them a lesson. You just want to go home. You should've never been walking by yourself in the first place. Then again, you never dreamed some psycho with a gun would come along.
"I think it'll be JJ," Barry continues, "You seemed pretty bummed on Cameron when he refused to quit his shit. But, you know, take your pick. Drug addict or thief. Man, it's like the Bachelor or some shit up in here."
Your eyes roll so far back into your head that you swear you can see your brain. When you look over at him, he's still laughing at his own joke.
"They're going to pay you back, and then you're never going to see any of us again," you say confidently. Barry just laughs.
"Yeah, okay, sweetheart."
You look over form the porch when you hear a noise, then sigh with relief when you see Rafe's truck pull up. He's driving fast, too fast, and he hops out of the truck the second he gets within running range of the porch. He doesn't even bother to close the door behind him.
You try to stand and go out to him, but Barry grabs your arm and keeps you down on the couch.
"Easy," he tells you, reaching behind him and pulling out his gun. He sets it down on the table in front of him, and you take note of how his expression changes from laughing to pissed off.
Rafe runs up to the porch and swings open the door, and that's when Barry releases you. You stand and rush to him, feeling Rafe sigh in relief as he wraps his strong arms around your little body. All of your anxiety melts away as you know you're safe now. Rafe would never let anything happen to you.
"Please tell me you're okay," Rafe whispers against your head, squeezing you tight.
"I'm okay," you confirm.
He pulls back from the hug and starts checking all over your body for injuries anyway. He holds up your arms and scans those, stopping his finger over a bruise you already had. It happened on the boat with JJ.
"I'm fine," you repeat to him, laying your head back on his chest. You really just don't want him to let go of you.
"What the fuck, Barry?" Rafe yells, his voice echoing through your ear as you have your head pressed on his chest.
"Afternoon, Country Club," Barry stands and smirks, watching the way you cling to Rafe.
You don't look at him, you just close your eyes and breathe Rafe in, not wanting to remember where you are. In your mind, the two of you are hanging out and eating lunch at the club. You always love going, especially on windy days when his scent travels from across the table. You love the way he smells.
"I'd like to change my answer, sweetheart," Barry tells you, ignoring Rafe's confused glance, "I think this one might love you back, Rafe. How sweet."
Rafe instinctually tightens his arm up around you, keeping you pressed up against him.
"I swear to God," Rafe starts, "If you laid one hand on her-"
"I didn't, Jesus," Barry groans, "I wish you cared about getting me my money the same way you care about saving this bitch."
You don't react, not even slightly. You don't care what Barry thinks of you. You just never want his slimy hands to touch you. Ever again.
"She's not a bitch, man," Rafe's voice goes quiet, "And I'm going to get you your money."
Barry laughs and then pretends to cry, "Boo who, she's not a bitch. I don't care, bro. I gave you shit on two separate occasions-"
"And I gave you my bike as collateral!" Rafe shouts back.
"That piece of shit ain't worth half what you owe me," Barry spits, "Your girl liked riding on it, though."
Rafe's chest tenses against you, and then you feel him bring his hand up to stroke your hair. He's trying to keep you as relaxed as possible.
"Y/N, go wait in my truck," Rafe tells you quietly, pulling the keys out of his pocket.
"Oh, no, no," Barry smirks, reaching out and snatching the keys from Rafe, "You think you're the only person I called here?"
As if on cue, the porch door swings open again and JJ walks in. Your eyes open and you see him, his expression worse than you've ever seen him.
"You got her?" JJ points to you, but he's talking to Rafe.
Rafe just nods, tightening his grip around you again. You open your mouth to speak, but watch as JJ charges toward Barry and punches him square in the nose.
"What the fuck did you do?" JJ shouts, watching Barry tumble to the floor, "If I find out you fucking hurt her-"
Barry laughs from the floor, wiping blood from his nose, "Easy, bro. You two are so damn worried about this chick."
JJ's chest is expanding and then contracting every five seconds, telling you his adrenaline is going crazy. You know he's ready to punch him again. Barry stands and picks up his gun from the coffee table, pointing it directly at JJ. You try to push forward to stop it, but Rafe keeps his grip tight.
"Now," Barry says, spitting his blood onto the floor, "You bitches are gonna pay up."
"Barry, I'll get you your money, man," Rafe promises. When Barry moves and points the gun at Rafe, he quickly tucks you behind him. He gives you one of his hands to hold onto, while the other one goes up to stop Barry from shooting.
"Yeah, when?" Barry yells, "I told you, Cameron. It's not just me you're screwing with."
Rafe nods his head, doing his best to try and calm Barry down. JJ looks over at you, mouthing 'are you okay?'
You nod at him, your expression clearly giving you away. You're scared, and he knows it.
"I know, bro," Rafe says, "Some people still owe me from the party Friday night. I'm going to get it, I just need some time."
Barry laughs sarcastically and lowers the gun, "Oh, yeah, for sure, man. You know what, take your time, Rafe."
Rafe's expression changes, knowing Barry doesn't mean it. He just wonders what that means for getting you out of here.
"The girl stays with me until both of you are paid up," Barry tells both of them.
"Like hell," JJ mutters.
Barry, who is still pissed about his nose, turns around and hits JJ in the head with the stock of the gun. You watch JJ stumble back, and without hesitation, break from Rafe's grasp and rush over to him. Rafe reaches out to try and grab you, but his grip isn't good enough.
"JJ!" you say, grabbing onto him as he stumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to help him stand.
"Shit," JJ mumbles, gripping his forehead. He pulls his fingers back and sees blood.
"Damn, darlin'," Barry grins at you, "You really do love them both."
You glare at Barry for the millionth time today as you set your arm around JJ's waist and lead him over to sit down. He sits in the chair Barry had been sitting in and you stand in between his legs, moving his hand away to see his wound.
Barry looks over at Rafe, who has his jaw clenched as he watches you stand in between JJ's legs and clean him up. He watches as JJ's hand lingers on the back of your thigh, his fingers brushing your skin ever so slightly.
"That's gotta hurt," Barry says to Rafe, getting a lot of amusement out of watching the boys squirm over you.
You ignore whatever Barry says as you use the bottom of your shirt to wipe off some of the blood on JJ's forehead. It's not bleeding badly, which you're thankful for. You're almost sure Barry doesn't own a first aid kit.
"Now, JJ," Barry steps over to you two, "Let's talk about how you stole twenty-five thousand dollars out of my house, yeah?"
Barry presses the gun to the back of JJ's neck, making JJ tense up. You watch Barry, bringing your hands to JJ's shoulders and holding onto him, as if to comfort him somehow.
"I'll get it back," JJ says, his voice hoarse.
"You bet your ass you will," Barry tells him, "When will that be, exactly?"
JJ sighs, knowing it won't be any time soon. That money is long gone.
"Can we set up a payment plan?" JJ asks sarcastically.
He regrets it when Barry grabs onto your arm and pulls you away, pressing the gun into your stomach as he holds onto you. JJ stands quickly and Rafe starts to rush over, but stops when he sees the look in Barry's eyes.
"You know, I'm getting real sick of being treated like a bitch," Barry tells them, pressing the gun into you harder, "I want my money. Now."
You let out an involuntary groan at the pain, watching Rafe as he tries to figure out what to do.
"Let her go, Barry," Rafe finally speaks, "Let her sit down and I'll go get your money."
"All of it?" Barry confirms.
Rafe nods, "All of it. Just let her sit down over there."
Barry looks at both boys, noting how pathetic they are. He's glad, though, knowing all he has to do is threaten your life to get what he wants. He just doesn't understand what's so damn special about you.
He releases your arm and shoves you in the direction of the couch, Rafe stepping forward to grab you. He pulls you into him again, leading you over to sit down.
"You all right?" he asks you, taking a seat beside you and bringing his hands up to your cheeks.
"Yes," you reply, nodding feverishly as if to try and convince him.
"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers as he pulls you into him.
Your breath catches in your throat as he calls you 'baby'. He's never done that before. Your mind wanders back to Barry telling you that both boys are crazy in love with you. You now sit there in Rafe's arms, wondering if Barry's right.
Rafe pulls back and looks at you in the eyes again, "Just sit right here for me, okay? I'm gonna go get the money. I'll be right back."
You nod again, silently promising him that you'll be here when he gets back. As if you could leave. He rubs the base of his thumb on your cheek and gives you a small smile, then stands up. He curses, knowing he doesn't want to leave you here.
JJ steps over to Rafe as he walks toward the door, grabbing his arm.
"Where the fuck are you gonna get twenty six thousand bucks right now, man?" JJ hisses, keeping his voice down for your sake.
"I don't know, JJ, I was thinking I'd walk into the bank and ask nicely," Rafe snaps, "I have no fucking idea. But I have to figure something out, right?"
JJ runs his hands through his hair and exhales loudly, then looks over and smiles quickly at you. Barry watches the boys, trying to figure out what's going on.
"Dude-"
"Just," Rafe starts, already annoyed with JJ, "Stay with her. I'm going to figure it out."
Rafe hates telling JJ to comfort you and be there for you, but it's the way it has to be. No way JJ could get his dirty hands on that kind of money right now. Or ever. JJ nods and starts walking over to you as Rafe thinks about how much money his dad might have in his safe right now.
"You know," Barry starts, standing up again with the gun in his hand, "I'm starting to think you don't really have my money, Country Club."
"Chill out, Barry," Rafe sighs, stepping toward the door once more. The safety of the gun being turned off is what makes Rafe stop dead in his tracks.
"Tell me the truth, Rafe," Barry says.
Rafe slowly turns around with his hands up, swallowing quickly.
"I'm going to get it," Rafe states again.
Barry shakes his head, "You're lying."
Before Rafe can process it, Barry moves the gun in your direction. He looks at you for a second, the horror on your face, and you know your body is frozen. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see it happen. At least you'll die with the boys.
The shot fires fast, but you don't feel anything. You hear a yell, then Rafe scream out, and when you open your eyes, JJ's lying on the ground. Your jaw falls open as you tumble onto the floor beside him, setting your hand on his bleeding stomach. Your hand is soaked instantly, but you don't know what else to do.
"JJ," you cry out, watching his eyes find yours, "JJ, oh, my God."
Tears fall down your face as you stare at him, his eyes glazing over. He's just watching you panic. Rafe comes over and sinks down beside you, not knowing how to help.
"Towels, Rafe," you order, "Hurry."
You spot a random shirt laying on the ground, one you're sure is Barry's and use it for the time being to soak up some of the blood.
"Hey, JJ, I'm right here," you tell him, watching your tears fall onto his shirt. They become invisible immediately, the blood stains swallowing them up.
"Are you okay?" JJ chokes out, spitting blood from his mouth onto the floor when he finishes speaking. You shake your head and try to swallow your tears, but you can't.
"I'm fine, JJ, just relax," you tell him, then look up, "Rafe!"
Rafe comes out of Barry's and onto the porch with towels in his hand, stopping only when Barry grabs onto his arm.
"I was aiming for her, remember that," Barry tells him.
Rafe just yanks his arm away and comes to you, placing one of the towels over JJ's wound.
"Rafe, what do we do?" you ask frantically, trying to ignore the blood that now seeps onto the floor.
Rafe shakes his head, having absolutely no idea what to do. He brings his hands over yours and puts more pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
"You have to call 911," you tell Rafe, "Go."
Rafe stares at you for a second, still stunned, when JJ starts to speak from the floor.
"Rafe," JJ chokes, "You gotta get her out of here, man."
"Not a chance, JJ," you say, trying your best to smile at him.
JJ looks over at Rafe again, "Rafe."
His voice is serious, and Rafe knows exactly what he's telling him. He's a goner, and he knows it. But he doesn't want you to watch him die. Rafe nods to JJ, telling him he understands. He watches JJ relax and lay his head back down, then stands up. JJ brings his hand down to yours and wraps his fingers around you. You squeeze, trying to tell him it's going to be okay.
"Go call," you remind him.
Rafe steps across JJ's body and, without speaking, tucks his arm around your waist and picks you up. He knows this won't be easy, and he can already feel his emotions coming up.
"Rafe, put me down!" you shout, your blood soaked hands going down to try and peel his arm off of you, "Rafe, stop! JJ!"
He carries you over to the door of the porch, doing his best to keep his grip tight as you fight with every ounce of strength you have.
"Let me go, Rafe! I have to help him!" you're screaming your head off, and Rafe hates it, but he knows he has to do what's best for you.
He glances back only for a second and sees JJ's shallow breathing, knowing he doesn't have much time left.
"Rafe!" you scream, kicking and thrashing around to try and get away.
"I have to make sure you're safe," Rafe tells you as the two of you reach the truck, "It's what he wants me to do."
"He's going to die!" you scream, "Let go of me! I'll never forgive you for this!"
Rafe opens the passenger door of the truck and puts you inside, using all of his strength to keep you there.
"You'll be alive, though!" Rafe raises his voice at you, making you stop. He's never yelled at you, not once.
You choke on your sobs as you see the blood all over Rafe's shirt, then all over your own. He buckles you in and closes your door, then rushes around the truck.
"Don't think this makes us even, Rafe Cameron!" Barry yells from the porch. Rafe flips Barry off and then gets into the truck, starting it and speeding off without buckling himself.
"Rafe, stop!" you yell, "I can't leave him there! He's all alone!"
"This is what he wanted!" Rafe yells back at you, stepping further down on the gas pedal.
"I don't care, I don't want him to be alone!" you cry, reaching for the door handle.
Rafe locks the doors and puts child lock on, preventing you from flinging out of the truck. You bang your fist on the window as he does, leaving a blood stain there.
"Rafe!" you look over and scream at him again.
He gets so frustrated he pulls the truck off the path and sets it in park, then turns to you. He grabs onto both of your wrists and holds them down.
"Calm the fuck down, right now," he demands, "Calm down."
You sit back in the seat and do as you're told, but your tears still fall. JJ just gave his life up to save yours, and Rafe doesn't seem to care at all.
"You need to understand that my only priority back there was to keep you safe. I'm sorry about JJ, baby, I am, but staying would've only put you in more danger."
You shake your head at him, almost as if you're disgusted. You let out a sob and then try to wipe your eyes, only smearing JJ's blood on your face. He reaches over and grabs your cheek, pulling you to look at him.
"I'm going to go back there and get his body. You can say goodbye to him. I'm gonna pay off Barry and never go back there. But I'm going to protect you first, do you understand?"
You nod your head under his touch, letting out another sob as soon as you try to breathe in. Rafe brings his hands down to your hips and pulls you toward him, over the console and into his lap.
"Come here," he whispers gently, tucking his arms around you and holding you close.
He knows you're a mess right now and there's blood all over his truck, but he doesn't care. He just wants you to calm down.
"Rafe," you sob, not knowing what else to say. His shirt becomes soaked with tears quickly.
"I know," he tells you softly, "I know."
"He saved me," you say, more just processing what happened, "Oh, my God, he's dead because of me."
"Shh," Rafe hushes you, his heart feeling like it's breaking in two as he listens to you, "It's not your fault. None of this is. Just calm down for me, baby."
Your hands come up and wrap around the back of Rafe's neck as you nuzzle your nose into the front of it. He brings one hand up to stroke through your hair, trying to relax you.
"We're okay," he soothes, his other hand rubbing your back, "Everything's okay."
You two sit there for a while, Rafe just rubbing on you and calming you down, until eventually, you start to come to terms with what happened. He's thankful you're no longer hysterical.
"Let's go get you cleaned up," Rafe whispers against your head once he feels you relax against him.
You pull back and look him in the eyes, feeling his hand come up to wipe blood from your cheek.
"You'll go back and get him?" you confirm.
Rafe nods, "Yes, of course."
You nod your head and then bring your hand up to his cheek the same way he had on yours, observing how soft his skin is. You think about what Barry told you about them both loving you, and how he later told you that you love them both.
"Rafe?" you ask, your voice nasally from all the crying and screaming, "Can I ask you a question?"
Rafe nods, loving the feeling of your skin on his. It relaxes him, makes him feel complete.
"Barry told me he thinks you're in love with me," you say quietly, leaving out the part about JJ.
You watch as Rafe nervously swallows, and then nods his head ever so slightly. You feel your heart swell, not knowing Rafe Cameron could ever make you feel that way.
"It's true?" you ask him, searching around in his eyes for any kind of doubt. There is none.
"Yeah," Rafe barely whispers.
"Oh," you say, watching Rafe's expression change to hurt as you glance away.
He's sure you don't feel the same. When you look up at him again, he's staring intensely at you.
"Is it okay that I love you, too?" you ask him, voice fragile.
Rafe smiles slightly, then watches as you smile too.
"Yeah," he repeats, but with more authority this time.
He leans his head down and then hesitates, making you hesitate as well. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to you. His lips make yours feel like they're on fire as they move together. He reaches up and grabs your cheeks, holding you to him. He pulls away after about a minute, staring at you in full adoration.
"I'm so sorry about today," he tells you, keeping his grip on your face, "I will never put you in any danger like that ever again."
You nod your head slowly, "I know that."
Rafe smiles down at you, bringing one hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.
"Let's go get you a shower," he says softly.
He doesn't make you get back in your seat, however. He just tightens his grip around you and puts the car in drive again, allowing you to hold onto him while he drives. It almost reminds you of being on the bike with Barry this morning. But instead of being completely disgusted, you're completely in love.
#drew starkey#rafe x y/n#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe#rafebarry#jj maybank#outerbanks netflix#outerbanks rafe#outer banks netflix#outerbanks#outer banks
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Floating Through Space - Harry Styles
a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺
the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!
pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader
warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao
word count: 25.7k
masterlist
This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?
Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.
Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.
“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.
Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.
You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.
“Don’t wear men’s pants.”
“You’d look better in a dress.”
“Why do you look like a guy?”
“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”
Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.
There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.
“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”
“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.
“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.
“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”
“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.
“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.
“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.
“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”
“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”
“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”
“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.
“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.
“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.
Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.
“Oi, can I ask for one?”
Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.
“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.
“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.
“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.
“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!
“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”
“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.
“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.
“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.
“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.
“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.
“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.
“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”
“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.
“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”
“Not even once,” you shake your head.
“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.
“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.
“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”
“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.
“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”
They stay silent and you know you were right.
“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”
“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.
“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”
Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.
Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.
The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.
“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.
“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.
“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.
“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”
“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.
Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.
“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.
You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.
You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.
Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.
“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”
Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.
It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.
Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.
“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.
“Are you home already?”
“Yes, just arrived.”
“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.
You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.
“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.
“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.
“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.
“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”
“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”
“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.
“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”
“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.
“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.
“See?” she smiles warmly.
“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”
“Harry Styles.”
You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.
“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”
Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.
“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”
“You and Harry?”
“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.”
“Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.
“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”
“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”
“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”
“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.
Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.
Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.
Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.
“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”
“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.
“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”
One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.
Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.
Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.
Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.
“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.
“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.
“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”
“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.
“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.
“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”
“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, thank you. Back at you.”
“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.
The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.
“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.
“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”
You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.
“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.
“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.
“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.
“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”
“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.
“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.
“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.
“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”
“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.
“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”
“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”
“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”
You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”
“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”
“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.”
Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.
“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”
“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.
“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”
“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.
“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”
“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.
“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.
“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”
“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”
You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.
The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.
“I would… love to work on a song with you.”
When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.
You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.
You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.
The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.
“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.
“Yeah, everything went fine.”
“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?
However, Harry can see right through you.
“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.”
“Harry, no need, I—“
“No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.
“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”
“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”
“What?”
“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”
“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.
“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”
It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.
“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.
“You guys still talk?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.
“You miss being with the band?”
“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”
“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.
“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”
You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.
“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”
“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.
“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”
Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.
“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.
“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.
“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.
“Nothing pissed you off lately?”
“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”
“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.
“It’s… a long story.”
“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”
Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.
“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”
Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.
“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.
“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.
“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”
“You’re right,” you nod smiling.
The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.
Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.
“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.
“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t know how not to stress?”
“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”
“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”
“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”
“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”
“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.
“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”
“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”
“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”
“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”
“Are you gonna smoke?”
“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”
“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”
Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.
You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.
“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”
“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”
“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”
“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”
“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.
“Did he ever stop?”
“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”
You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.
“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.
“What?”
His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.
“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.
You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.
“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.
“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.
“Do you want to go for a swim?”
“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.
“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.
“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.
“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.
“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”
“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.
With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.
When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.
“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.
“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.
Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.
“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.
“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.
“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck. “This feels so nice.”
“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.
“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”
“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”
“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.
You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.
“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”
“Which one?”
“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”
You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.
“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”
“What was the name of the song?”
“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”
“Can I ask why you left your parents?”
“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”
The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.
“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”
“No,” you shake your head.
“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”
“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”
“Woah, that sounds really tough.”
“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”
You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.
“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”
“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”
“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.
“You could say that,” you nod into the water.
“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.
“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.
“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.
“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.
“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”
“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.
“Damn right,” he smirks.
And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.
The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.
“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.
“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.
“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.
“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”
“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.
The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.
You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.
You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.
“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.
“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.
“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.
Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.
“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.
“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”
“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.
“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”
You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.
When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.
You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.
The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.
In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.
You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.
Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.
Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.
“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.
“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“
“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.
“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.
“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.
“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.
“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.
“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.
“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.
“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.
“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.
“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.
“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.
“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.
You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.
As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.
“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.
“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”
“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”
He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.
“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”
“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”
“What did he do this time?”
“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.
“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”
“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”
Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.
“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.
“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”
“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”
“Shoot it.”
“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”
“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.
“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”
“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.
“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.
“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”
An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.
“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.
“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.
“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.
“You’re a fan?”
“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.
“You need to perform it for me.”
“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”
“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”
“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.
You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.
Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx
Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.
“You alright?” Harry softly asks.
“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.
“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”
“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”
From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.
“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”
Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.
“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”
He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.
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“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”
The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.
“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”
“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.
“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.
When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.
“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”
He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.
You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.
Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.
“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.
“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”
“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.
“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” you admit.
“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.
“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“
You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.
His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.
Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.
Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.
“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.
“Kind of.”
“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”
“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.
“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.
“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?
You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.
It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.
Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.
It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.
Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.
Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.
“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.
“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”
“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”
“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.
“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”
“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”
“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”
“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.
By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.
Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.
“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”
The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.
On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?
Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.
Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.
Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.
Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.
At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.
Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.
“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you want to come over to my place?”
“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.
When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.
Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.
“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.
It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.
“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.
“Some water would be great, thank you.”
Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.
He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.
“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.
“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.
“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.
“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.
Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.
Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.
When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.
“Harry, I…”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.
“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”
Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.
“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.
“Yes.”
“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.
You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.
Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.
“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.
He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.
“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.
With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.
Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.
“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.
“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.
“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.
“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.
Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.
“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.
“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.
Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.
“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.
“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.
You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.
“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.
He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.
Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.
“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.
Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.
Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.
With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.
“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.
“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.
He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.
“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”
“Are you still friends with them?”
“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”
A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.
“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.
“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.
“Why not?”
“Because we work together.”
“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.
“You like me?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”
“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.
“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.
“You can stay, but you have to behave.”
“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.
You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.
“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.
“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.
“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.
“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.
Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.
“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.
“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.
“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.
“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”
“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”
“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.
“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.
Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.
Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.
Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.
Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?
He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.
Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?
Harry: Is that even a question?!
“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.
“Huh?”
“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”
“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.
“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”
“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.
“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”
“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.
“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”
“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”
“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”
“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“
“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.
“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”
“I know,” you chuckle.
“How was it?”
“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”
“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”
“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”
“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.
“How is the song writing going?”
“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”
“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.
“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.
Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.
Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.
Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.
“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.
“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.
“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”
Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.
“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.
“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”
“Always.”
“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”
Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.
“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”
“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”
“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.
“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.
“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.
The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.
“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”
“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.
“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.
“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.
“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.
“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.
“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.
You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.
“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”
“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.
His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.
“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.
The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.
Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.
“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.
“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”
“I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”
You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.
“Harry! Please!”
“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.
You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.
He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.
“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Mm, good idea.”
Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.
Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.
“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.
“About what you said about your parents.”
“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”
“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”
You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.
“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.
“What… would you do if you were in my place?”
Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”
“And what if they don’t?”
“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”
“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.
“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.
Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.
“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.
“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.
Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.
Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.
She attached several articles and you start digging through them.
“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”
“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”
“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”
And then there’s the absolute worst.
“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.
Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.
The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.
You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”
“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.
“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.
An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.
Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.
“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.
“Again?”
“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”
“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”
“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?”
“It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.
“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”
“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”
“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”
“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”
“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”
“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”
“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”
“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”
“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.
“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”
“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”
“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.
“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”
“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”
You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.
“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”
He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.
“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.
“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“
“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.
He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.
The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.
The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.
Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.
On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.
You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.
“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”
“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.
“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”
“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”
“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”
“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”
“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.
“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”
And with that, you end the call.
Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.
As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.
“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.
“Halo?”
“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.
There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.
You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.
“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”
“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.
“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”
“Bad bitches have bad days too.”
“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”
“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”
“I told you I’m not doing it!”
“I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”
She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.
-
Hi Taylor!
I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.
I hope to see you soon, take care!
Harry
-
With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.
“He… pulled out for me.”
“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”
“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”
“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”
You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.
“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”
“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”
“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.
You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.
Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.
As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.
“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.
“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.
You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.
“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”
“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.
“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”
Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.
“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.
“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”
“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”
“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”
“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”
Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.
“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.
Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.
“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.
You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.
“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”
“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”
“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”
“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”
“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”
“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”
“Would you please come with me?”
Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.
“I would love to, if you want me there.”
“I do,” you nod.
“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.
Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet
The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.
Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.
Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.
Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!
Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.
“Hey.”
Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.
“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”
“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.
“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”
Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.
You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.
“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.
You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.
“Hi mom, hi dad.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fiction#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reading#harry styles x y/n
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Vice - Bts Mafia Au
mafia!bts x reader
summary: After finding yourself in a desperate situation, you’re foolish enough to do anything for money, and you somehow find yourself held captive by the members of Seouls most ruthless gang, Bangtan.
Warnings: Strong language, no smut (yet ;)))
Chapter 3
I stand frozen, my mind racing for a valid reason to explain why the fuck I was stealing from Bangtan.
I should’ve known not to come here tonight. I should’ve known something like this would happen.
Did I really think I’d be able to pull an operation like this off? Of course not.
I mentally curse Hyunwoo (and myself for listening to him.) How on earth did I let myself get in a situation like this?
“Well?” The stranger questions, narrowing his eyes at me in suspicion. Although he’s pointing a gun at me, I can’t help but notice just how attractive he is. At least I’ll have something nice to look at whilst I die.
Jet black hair sits across his forehead, a small gap in his bangs allows for me to sneak a glance at his pierced eyebrow. His lip is pierced as well and a multitude of small hoops and studs adorn his ear.
The sleeves of his pristine black dress shirt are pushed up to rest at his elbows, and the arm pointing the gun at me is covered in tattoos, right the way down to his hand.
Before I even have a chance to explain myself he speaks again.
“If you don’t answer in the ten seconds, I’ll blow your fucking head off, and I have better things to do than spend the rest of the night washing blood out my clothes.”
I decide that acting like I belong here is the only thing that will get me out of here safely.
“Oh, I was sent to get this, didn’t anyone tell you?” I say as confidently and convincingly as I can.
He his eyebrow quirks up and he smirks slightly, clearly not believing my obvious lie. “Oh yeah? Who sent you?”
Fuck. I was not prepared for that question. I rack my brain for any possible answer, any names from rumours I may have heard about the gang but I genuinely can’t think of anything.
I know I’ve stayed quiet for too long when he scoffs and glares at me accusingly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
He drops the gun from my head (thank fuck) and grabs my upper arm harshly to pull me to my feet.
He pauses for a moment, holds a finger to his ear, and begins to speak, presumably into an ear piece.
“Hyung?, I’ve found some girl looking through our stuff in a private office. I have no idea how she managed to unlock it. What do you want me to do with her?”
He goes silent and I assume whoever’s on the other end of the earpiece is talking.
“Yeah ok, I’ll see you out there” And with that he lowers his hand and brings his attention back to me.
He smirks at me again, chuckling darkly before speaking. “You have no idea how much trouble your in, do you?”
I stay completely silent, resorting to glaring at him in an attempt to mask my fear.
He harshly grabs my wrist and begins to pull me out the room and down the hall.
“No-please!” I shout as I desperately try to resist his iron grip, but he was far too strong. Instead of responding, he shoots me a look that I can’t quite read. amusement? annoyance, maybe?
He takes me in the opposite direction that I came from, dragging me to the end of the hall and down a flight of stairs.
The route he takes me means that we don’t have to walk through the main hall where all the guests are, meaning that there’s no one to help me. Though, I highly doubt they would be of any aid to me even if they were here.
His fast pace makes it nearly impossible for me to keep up as I constantly trip over my ridiculously talle shoes. Why didn’t I just wear flats?
I consider asking him to slow it down a bit, but I would most likely just be met with some sort of sarcastic comment, so I stay quiet.
Eventually cold air hits my face as we step out the building and into the night, through a back entrance, of course.
“Don’t even think about screaming, or I’ll kill you right here.” He says, shooting me a glare over his shoulder.
I nod at him in reply, though the thought of screaming hadn’t even crossed my mind, I was too struck with fear to think clearly.
He pulls me round a corner so that we’re now behind the manor, and I’m met with the stern faces of six other intimidating, albeit very handsome, men.
Two ridiculously expensive looking Mercedes-benz G-class SUVs are parked on the road just behind them, a few of the men leaning back on them.
After me and my captor make an appearance, they all stand straighter, bringing their full attention to us.
We stop walking and I shift in discomfort as I feel each pair of eyes look me up and down. A sudden sense of complete vulnerability starts to take over, and I recoil back into myself, lowering my head to look at the ground.
“So” One of the men steps forwards, he’s the tallest out of all of them, and well built too. His silver-blue hair stands out in the moonlight, which casts shadows down onto his structured face.
“Would you care to inform us as to why you thought you could get away with stealing our shit?” He speaks harshly, taking a step towards me.
I start to back away with him, only to immediately hit the firm chest of the man who brought me here. Chuckling, He moves his hand from my wrist to my upper back, giving me a rough push forwards.
I let out a quiet noise of surprise before looking up at the tall man I was now stood directly in front of. How the hell do I make up an excuse for this?
I decide that actually being honest might be my best bet, and throwing Hyunwoo under the bus just might be my golden ticket to getting out of here alive.
“I had no idea what I was doing I swear” I plead desperately. “I was just sent here by someone else. I didn’t know who it was I was stealing from.”
So maybe that last bit was a teensy little lie, but it might make them go easy on me.
The taller man takes one more step forward so that our chests are nearly touching, despite being nearly 5’6” myself, I’m forced to crane my neck up to look at him (giving him my best “innocent puppy-dog” eyes, of course.)
“Who sent you?” He says gruffly, he narrows his eyes at me before asking “What is Xe Liang? I told him his ass was done if he ever bothered us again.”
“What? No, it wasn’t him” Though the name does actually sound familiar, though, I have no idea where i’ve heard it before.
“It was Hwang Hyunwoo, he got me an invite too.” The men all look amongst each other in what appears to be confusion. “Hyunwoo..?” The one in front of me says thoughtfully.
“Oh, wait a minute” One of the men by the cars speaks up. He has intriguing cat-like eyes that bore into me, and somewhat longer black hair that reaches just past his ears and has been parted off of his forehead to frame his face.
Just like the rest of the men he’s dressed up in a smart all black-suit, though, he’s ditched his tie and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. His features are soft, but he gives of a domineering aura.
“He’s that kid we used to sell to before he started trying to fuck us over.” Multiple ohs and ahs of realisation fill the air, as the group seemingly now remembers Hyunwoos significance.
The man in front of me whips around in anger to face the rest of them. “Who the fuck does he think he is trying to fuck with us again? He’s dead meat, and I mean it this time.”
He sharply turns back to face me, before bringing a large hand up to the bass of my neck, and pushing me against the stone wall of the building behind me.
I gasp in surprise, bringing my own hands up to grip his wrist, desperately trying to pull him off of me, but it’s no use.
“How the hell do you know him” He spat at me accusingly. I scrambled to respond, but it was difficult with my airway being compressed.
“I just sell weed for him-I barely know him I swear!” Tears threaten to spill as my facade breaks down. “Please, just let me go!” I say, my voice shaking as I speaks.
He looks at me in curiosity as if wondering what to do with me, before he pulls me off the wall by my neck and throws me towards the group.
“Taehyung, Jimin, sedate her, we’ll take her back to the house and decide what to do from there. We can’t risk having this conversation in the open any longer.
One of the men, Taehyung or Jimin I’m assuming, grabs me from behind by my upper arms, His secure grip making it impossible to move no matter how much I struggle.
“Please no! I didn’t know, I swear to god!” I bend my neck to look up at my captor with pleading eyes.
He’s extremely good looking, with tan skin and handsome features. He has a tall nose, full lips and slightly hooded eyes. His black hair pushed off his forehead, and his pristine attire seems to be missing the ebony blazer jacket everyone else is wearing.
Before he has a chance to speak, the cat-eyed man from earlier does it for him. “It doesn’t matter, you still stole from us.” I turn my head to meet eyes with him as he shoots a fiery glare at me.
“Surely you can’t be that stupid to think you could get away with that just because “someone told you to do it”.” His words silence me and my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
I bring my attention to another man who has began walking towards me. He’s much shorter than the man holding me and has a very beautiful face as my gaze is immediately drawn to his full lips and flirtatious eyes.
I snap back to reality when I see a menacing syringe held between his middle and index finger.
“No please!” I beg as I begin to fight against the hold on my arms. I shrink back into the chest of the one behind me, trying to lean away from the needle, though, it’s not like I could go anywhere.
“Sorry, love.” The man with the syringe says before inserting it into the side of my arm, just under the large hand gripping me.
It only takes a few short seconds before I begin to feel drowsy. My legs give out beneath me so that the only thing holding me up is the stranger behind me, and everything turns to black.
Authors Note: The outfits I imagined the boys wearing here were the ones they wore for their Grammys performance caused they look smoking hot in them 🥵
Tag list:
@sa7kou @purplelady85 @bunzom
#bts fanfic#bts#bts jeon jungguk#bts hoseok#bts jhope#bts jeon jungkook#bts jimin#bts jin#bts namjoon#bts rm#bts suga#bts yoongi#mafia#bts mafia fic#bts mafia#bts v#bts taehyung#bts x reader#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#park jimin#jung hoseok#min yoongi#ot7 x reader#bts seokjin#agust d#bts fanfiction#bangtan sonyeondan
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CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER
author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭
word count :: 3.3k
every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...
HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)
today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread
it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!
and who is him you may ask?
levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card
levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name
anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea
the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred
levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?
“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”
the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was
she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it
“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone
“cash or card?” he asks plainly.
you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”
you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself
but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????
looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused
faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak
“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”
“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification
gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money
“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”
he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”
“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct
levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags
“you must love em.”
“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?
OH YEAH
“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly
“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out
he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are
hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car
there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!
okay so.
it is officially next time.
actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home
but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??
the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line
for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist
you are not casper the ghost
also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy
finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.
“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly
so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you
my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no
“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived
“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking
“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”
his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made
the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around
“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened
“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down
“you sure peaches?”
“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”
“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence
wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...
“could you walk me to my car?”
and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees
it stays like that for a while.
every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together
like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.
to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it
“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face
looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week
god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge
levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell
BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily
for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care
his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time
“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”
warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering
“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck
if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it
“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately
“oh yeahhhh-”
“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile
he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&
wait?? yellow??
“didn’t you say purple?”
“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit
“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag
nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”
damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??
update
it’s been two weeks!!
and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)
it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going
you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed
being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart
not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least
walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him
“so you didn’t come last week...?”
it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name
“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display
“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”
“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop
“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom
????
isn’t he just a cashier??
“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes
“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”
at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you
there’s no way connie is being serious
“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand
“i’m not kidding?”
turning around you give him a skeptical look
he sighs and shakes his head.
“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”
“who said i like-”
“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now
“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can
“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”
“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”
connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves
“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”
“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”
“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”
playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof
“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!
“i’ll think about it.”
before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.
by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number
looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.
right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat
“hi!” you wave at him
“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place
placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got
“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?
his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates
“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode
“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card
levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock
“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes
“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood
“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.
the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.
just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him
“no i don’t need those.”
he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts
“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile
there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.
no way.
is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?
taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated
“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift
“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time
nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi
“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes
great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?
without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind
at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???
god, you probably look like a creep
the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you
“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief
turning you see him savour the air
is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—
“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm
oh.
fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores
this.
is.
the.
worst.
moment.
of.
your.
life.
“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it
you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot
but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised
...
inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline
hello??
HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???
“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way
the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are
you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out
“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”
you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.
well...
you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??
:-)
#leviiattacks#aot#attack on titan#levi x reader#levi x y/n#snk#aot fanfiction#attack on titan levi#levi ackerman#levi#levi headcanons#levi scenario#levi fanfiction#levi fluff#fluff#aot fluff#snk fluff#levi ackerman fanfic#levi ackerman imagine#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman headcanons#aot headcanons#aot imagines
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I wonder if you would be able to do a Sadie Adler x FemReader (fluff and smut) in which the reader saves Mrs. Adler from a job go wrong and gets hurt in the process doing so PLEASEEEEE THANK UUUU
Pairing: Sadie Adler x GN!Reader (I think?)
Warnings: None, it's just fluff
Notes: I might do a smutty pt2 - this has been sat in my drafts ever since the request came in, and I ain't wild on it personally (it ain't my best! :D), but why knows I might make a lovely smutty part 2
The pounding of hooves was the only thing you could hear at the moment, your eyes drifting shut as the four of you rode back to camp. Sadie had her arm around you, holding you on her horse, galloping as fast as Bob could go. Behind you, Lenny and Hosea rode, with equal urgency as Arthur, who was riding alongside Sadie, trying to get you back to camp as fast as possible.
The four of them had been down to Shady Belle, planning to steal some elusive jewels, which had been stolen from a passing boat the other week. The plan was meticulously organized, Sadie was to sneak in during nightfall, with Hosea distracting the guards while Lenny and Arthur would sneak into the building. Sadie would be the escape team, transporting the goods from the area without being spotted. You'd run it through with them all at camp, rehearsing it until Hosea could recite his lines in his sleep and Lenny couldn't be heard by anyone around camp.
It was a foolproof plan, if the guards didn't take the carefully fed bait, they'd leave, planning on slipping some unnamed plant Dutch had provided them with into their drinks. The plant promised drowsiness, giving them enough time to enter, steal the gems, and leave without raising the alarm. You were part of an emergency back up team; waiting with Micah and John in the trees nearby, in case things got nasty. What you did not count on, however, was for the guards to get bored by Hosea's fanciful story, shooting wildly at the man of when he took a breath.
Lenny and Arthur still managed to get their hands on a few, but without the others they were less valuable than the entire collection. Hosea was desperately shooting back at them alongside you three, but they outnumbered the two of you at least ten to one, and you were fighting a losing battle. Sadie had gone around with Arthur and Lenny to try to gain a little more money, but they weren't having much luck, judged by the panicked shouting.
Once the other three joined you, the six of you attempted to retreat, whistling for your steeds and backing away along the wide path to the house. Just as your horses reached you, you let your guard down for a moment, allowing a bullet to lodge itself in your midriff. A cry of pain from you alerted Sadie, who, without any hesitation, pulled you onto her horse, knowing you couldn't wait any longer here.
Now you were a little outside your camp, if you strained to open your eyes, you could see the haze of smoke from one of the fires. One of Sadie's hands was pressing on the wound, desperately trying to stopper the blood spreading over your shirt. You couldn't feel any pain from the wound now, feeling so numb with the continual pain that your body had almost become accustomed to it. A quick glance down showed the damage; the deep wine colour spreading over your shirt, Sadie's hand dripping with your blood.
“Hold on for me, come on now,” Sadie shook you awake a little as her horse slowed for you to get off. Hosea was calling Miss Grimshaw over, and someone else helped Sadie lift you off her horse, you had tried to help, but from the waist down you felt as weak as a rag doll, nothing moved when you told it to. People were rushing around you in a blur of colour, you were being taken somewhere, to what looked like Arthur's tent, you couldn't tell from your bleary vision. The last thing you noticed was Miss Grimshaw rushing to sit beside you, pulling your shirt up to see the extent of your injury.
But by the time you opened your eyes again it was dark again, and the camp was more subdued than usual. Carefully, you moved your hand over your wound, finding damp bandages covering it, and yet you felt worse than when you'd first entered camp, the feeling of dizziness was back tenfold, and you felt as though going back to sleep was the best option. However, you ignored this thought, looking around the Arthur's tent to spot Dutch, sat on the crate beside the bed, asleep with his head in his hands.
“Dutch-” you managed to whisper, even this small action exhausted you. He jolted awake, and his face broke into a relived smile as he looked down on you. For someone who never seemed to care about what you were doing, this change in demeanour was strange, even for someone as unpredictable as Dutch.
“You're awake,” he looked almost surprised, moving closer to you, “Mrs Adler has only just left since you arrived,” he laughed a little, but soon an awkward silence fell between the both of you as he looked at your wound. The tension was broken by Sadie, as soon as her eyes fell on yours she rushed into the tent, past Dutch, to drop beside the bed.
“Thank heavens,” she muttered, taking one of your hands in hers and rubbing circles, “I promise I ain't left apart from just then,” she said a little sheepishly, glancing at Dutch behind her. He grimaced a little before walking out, making sure to drop the canvas flap down, so you had a little privacy.
In the dimly lit tent, you could still make out the dark circles under Sadie's eyes, and the exhaustion which etched itself into the lines on her face. You had no idea how long you'd been out for, but you were too exhausted to move properly at the moment — you hadn't even tried to move anything aside from your head yet, unsure if you could.
“How're you feelin'?” she asked, grabbing your hand and rubbing small, comforting circles on your palm. Unsure if you could trust your voice not to betray your pain, you shrugged a little. The pain in your chest had subsided, although an uncomfortable stinging was webbing across where the wound lay. Sadie caught you looking at where the bullet had entered, squeezing your hand gently to guide your eyes back to hers.
“Remember what I told ya? 'Bout Jake? And tha' bullet he had in his leg, with some rest he was as right as rain, I know you don-” it was your turn to squeeze her hand, stopping her trail of concern.
“I'll be fine Sadie, stop worryin',” you croakily replied, your eyes fluttering shut, exhausted already.
“You're always alright, ain't ya?” you could hear her say, as she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before you fell asleep.
#sadie adler x reader#sadie adler#gets kicked to death by sadie#gn reader#red dead onlin#red dead redemption imagine#red dead online#red dead redemption 2#rdr#rdr2#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews
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Worth more than silver - Jesper Fahey
Request: nope
Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader
Summary: Matthias doesn’t understand why you’re so happy with every ring Jesper buys you, given that they’re not expensive and can be bought on the corner of every street
Warnings: none!
Word count: 1.2K
A/N: first of all!! thank you so much for you love on my kaz brekker fic! :) I love him so much and it fills my heart with love that you like my work! hope you like this one as well, enjoy reading! :)
You absently twist the ring on your index finger. You had kind of taken over Jesper’s habit of fiddling with your rings. He did it when he was nervous, you did it when you were nervous, bored, listening to someone. All the time, really. You couldn’t help it. Your rings reminded you of Jesper, as he’d gifted you every single one of them.
When you first got together, you were always playing with his fingers and rings when you were tired. You’d absently twist the rings on his fingers and he’d shoot you a wink while continuing his conversation.
After a while, you started wearing his rings as well. He had quite the collection, and he couldn’t possible wear all of them at once. At first, you’d taken one. Putting it on, and smiling when you noticed how much you liked it on your own finger instead of his. But you were afraid he wouldn’t be okay with it, or that he would think you’d mean something with it. So, you put the ring back before Jesper could find out.
But once you started stealing more and more of them, and wearing multiple of his rings at the same time, it didn’t take long for him to notice.
One day, when you were walking back to the Slat after a quick job, he took your hand in his, as you always did when walking the streets together.
Jesper had frowned and lifted your intertwined hands so he could look at them. Upon seeing a collection of his rings on your fingers, he turned to look at you and raised an eyebrow. You’d immediately launched into a ramble about how you didn’t mean anything by it, and you’d take them off, when he interrupted you with a kiss. When he pulled back, he shot you a beautiful grin, along with the words ‘Never take them off, sweetheart.’ After that, it became a habit.
Sometimes, you’d be met with a pouting Jesper in the morning. When you were wearing a ring he wanted to wear that day. Still, he never seemed to mind it a lot. It was a surprise when he came to you at the end of the day, telling you to hold out your hand.
When you’d asked him why, eyeing him suspiciously, he repeated his question and told you to close your eyes. You rolled your eyes, but did so anyway. You felt him placing something in your hand and then he told you to open your eyes.
When you did, you found a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. It wasn’t one of his, you had never seen this one before. And it was smaller than his, but you recognised it anyway. It was one of the cheap rings you could by at every tourist stand.
You looked from the ring in your hand to Jesper, who was smiling at you, just a little nervous. He told you he’d get you a real ring, a nice expensive one, but he didn’t have the money for it, given that he’d gambled it all away. You cut him off with a kiss and told him you loved the ring, and slipped it on your finger.
After that day, a tradition had formed. After every successful job, Jesper bought you a cheap ring. You wore them with pride, and as the months went by, your collection of rings was almost bigger than Jesper’s.
You smile when you think of it, and look at the rings you’re wearing today. One of his sits on your left index finger - the one you’d been fidgeting with. You had a colourful collection of cheap tourist rings on your left middle finger, and three fingers on your right hand. All of them gifts from Jesper.
You’re suddenly pulled from your thoughts when you hear the door behind you open. You turn your head and smile when Jesper walks toward you. He grins at you and dramatically holds his hand out in front of you.
‘For you, my love.’ he says.
You smile widely and pluck the new ring from his palm. It’s the same one you already have, only in a different color. You slip it on one of your fingers and stand to kiss his cheek.
‘Thank you, Jesper, I love it!’ you say happily. ‘I was hoping you’d get me the blue one!’
‘Anything for you.’ says Jesper with a wink.
‘Want to join us for a drink?’ you say, gesturing to Matthias, who you’d been talking to.
‘Can’t, love. Business calls, and by that I mean Kaz needs to torture me with maps of the city and another ridiculous plan of his for at least an hour.’ says Jesper.
‘Alright. I’ll see you tonight, then.’ you say. With a nod and a wink, Jesper takes off again.
You sit back down and admire the new ring on your finger.
‘Why are you so happy with all of those rings?’ asks Matthias. ‘They’re all so cheap, you can buy them on every street corner.’
You look up to the Fjerdan. ‘They might seem cheap to you, but to me they’re worth more than the finest silver.’ you say.
‘How so?’ asks Matthias, taking a sip from his drink.
‘Well.’ you say. ‘I wore a lot of Jesper’s rings, I still do. He wanted to buy me a ring, but couldn’t afford it-’ ‘Because of his gambling.’ says Matthias, interrupting you. You narrow your eyes at him. ‘Yes, because of his debts.’ you say. ‘So, when he couldn’t get me an expensive one, he got me a cheap one. I loved that he’d even want to buy me a ring in the first place, I couldn’t care less if it was silver or not. Ever since, he’s bought me these.’
‘Can’t he save up some kruge to get you a nice one?’ says Matthias.
‘These are nice!’ you protest, earning a rare chuckle from him.
‘If you like it, I’m sure it’s good enough for Jesper.’ says Matthias.
‘You should buy Nina a ring.’ you say.
‘Why would I?’ he asks, startled.
‘Women like jewellery.’ you say. ‘Some might deny it, but we all love it.’
‘It’s not-’ ‘Don’t say it’s not Fjerdan tradition.’ you say, knowing his answer was going to be about his culture. ‘If it’s not tradition, you can always buy her waffles. I bet she’d marry you on the spot, with or without a ring.’ you say.
Before Matthias can answer you, you get up from your spot, saying you’d check to see if Jesper needed saving from Kaz’ endless rambling and planning.
You walk toward the stairs and leave behind a slightly confused Matthias. While walking up the stairs, you run into Nina.
‘Hey Y/N!’ she says happily. ‘I saw Jesper earlier, did he get you another one?’
‘He sure did.’ you say and you show her the new ring you got.
‘Wish Matthias bought me a ring from time to time.’ she says and you laugh.
‘He’ll buy you waffles instead.’ you say, and you continue your way to the top floor, ignoring Nina’s shout about the promise of waffles.
A/N:
If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules
Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist.
Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!!
Thank you for reading!
Much love,
Jo
#yea I'm obsessed with jesper and what about it#jesper fahey#shadow and bone#grishaverse#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey x you#jesper fahey fanfiction#jesper fahey fanfic#jesper fahey fanfics#jesper fahey fic#jesper fahey fics#jesper fahey blurb#jesper fahey blurbs#jesper fahey oneshot#jesper fahey oneshots#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone fanfics#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone fics#shadow and bone blurb#shadow and bone blurbs#shadow and bone oneshot#shadow and bone oneshots
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