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#i mean im having a decent enough time but im not even half way done

hisaame · 7 months

Note

hi hi! Could you do a Scaramouche x fem!reader with angst to comfort? Specifically with reader having issues on how they view their body?? ((Like their insecure)) preferably modern au plss

first time writing on request yippie!! hii and ty, i hope this is what you've asked for!! <3 also im stillll new to writing and stuff, so im praying im good for now!

╰』ˋˋ"What do you mean you aren't pretty?" «

ˎˋ╰⪼Scaramouche x fem!reader ˎˋ

[angst with comfort] — modern au,,,

『warnings: body negativity, cursing, body touch, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader being like half naked (NO SPICY STUFF THO), idk what else to add im not good at warnings.... 』

— Scaramouche simply couldnt understand.

How could you, a pretty girl with the body of a goddess, possibly think you look less than he thinks?

It was in the afternoon, you had invited Scaramouche to come over to your dorm, since it was the weekends and you had no subject to study, you finished two exams last week. So you wanted to have a nice day off, where your lover would be there.

But before that you decided to take a shower, u have already been outside with your friends Hu Tao and Yanfei, spending time with them since they were from another school.

You hated your bathroom. Why? Because the mirror there was huge.

Slowly taking off your clothes, its almost impossible to ignore your reflection. Its there no matter where you turn—seriously, its like they made the dorms' bathrooms like this on purpose, just to make you feel even worse about yourself as if before wasnt already enough.

You cringe at yourself once you took off your clothes. You should hurry up in the shower—but something made you stay in front of the mirror, criticizing yourself with your own thoughts. Turning a bit to the side to look at other various parts of your body, finding nothing decent or enough for yourself. You sighed, you should be positive right now, school isnt in the way and you should be relaxing.

With a glare at your own reflection, before getting into the shower quickly, turning on some warm water. Showers should be relaxing, but as you washed your body, using soap, making there be various white bubbles on your skin, they smell quite nice, and are certainly fun to play with.

But the feeling of your own hands on your body distracted you. The way you felt under your own touch, it somewhat... Disgusts you.

Finally—once you were done with showering, taking a towel and wrapping it around your body, shivering as the cool air hit against your wet skin. You dried off your hair, brushed it out, trying not to stare at the mirror too much. Maybe you're just too judgemental. Maybe you're not as bad as you think?

After you were done with your hair—you must not have noticed, but there was a sudden knock at your bathroom door. Then it opened up to reveal Scaramouche. Well, he peeked through it first to check was he invading any privacy.

"Damn, this was the last place i was gonna check. I came here like five minutes ago." Scaramouche sighed in relief to seeing you, not at all bothered by the fact you're only in a towel. He pressed a kiss to your lips as a greeting, ruffling your half dry hair.

Though, you looked uncomfortable. Not with the fact your lover had come into the bathroom while you were in just a towel, but the fact your body was pretty exposed to him, and you thought, what id he judged you? Maybe not out loud, but what if he was thinking about it?

Noticing your discomfort, Scaramouches eyes widened for a split second at his realization, then spoke up, "i can leave if you want—to wait for u to get changed." , he gave you a half smile. But you told him its alright. Why? You wanna just push him away.

At your answer, he smiled softly, nodding. Maybe you just needed him here, after a hard week. What he thought was different than what you thought. Seeing this as a nice opportunity, he went behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder as he gave you a goofy, lazy smirk, looking at the mirror where you two can be seen. Maybe you should've kicked him out...

"You always look so pretty after showering—like all clean, pretty, and u smell nice." Scaramouche mumbled, as if shy to admit. "wait i said pretty twice. Replace one of those words with 'gorgeous' then." You couldn't tell if he was flirting with you or genuinely fucked up with his words.

But the way you looked at him with almost surprise at what he said, his eyebrow raised as his expression changed.

"Why do you look like i fucking said i discovered the moon and flew to mars? Dont you know youre pretty?" He said, his usual personality showing. He doesnt exactly like being all mushy, but for you, he's a sucker. So he's nicer...

Maybe it was finally time to admit it. He was your lover anyway, and you trusted him. You nodded slowly, then immediately looked away, regretting what you just did. That... Shocked Scaramouche! You, not pretty? Were you high!?

".. Huh? Did someone tell you you're not pretty? Ill fuck them up. Who was it?" He narrowed his eyes, his embrace around your waist tightening. His protective side definitely was showing. But once he didnt get a reply, seeing the way you frowned and refuses to look at the mirror, he realized the situation.

"... [y/n]? Dont tell me you tell yourself that..." Scaramouche sighed. Figuring you werent comfortable with the mirror, he turned you around, so you can face him again. You even thought he was prettier than you will ever be. Well, he's here to prove you're better than you think!

"[y/n]. I know i dont say this a lot, but you're gorgeous to me. God, these words sound so cliche.. But its true. You're the most gorgeous, pretty, beautiful—fuck, what else—cute, adorable girl i have ever met. Okay?" Scaramouche stared into your eyes. He definitely wasnt the best at comfort, but he wants to try his best—for you.

Then he softly smiled at you. "Hey, lets get you dressed up and we can talk about how magnificent you really are?", he kissed your nose, hos face flushing immediately right after as he lead you out of the bathroom, talking to you along the way.

"You may have your flaws and all that, but thats what makes you, you. You know? I like your flaws." Scaramouche admitted, blushing like an idiot when he looked away once he told you what he thought.

Soon enough, you were dressed, dragged to bed by Scaramouche who quite literally forced you to be the little spoon this time. You could barely hear the tv over him talking about how pretty he thinks you are.

Yeah, if anyone even dared to even joke about you being 'ugly', he's getting suspended because of reasons you know what happens.

♡

#scaramouche #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst

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kirishwima · 1 year

Text

Bet on me, baby - Part 3 (written portions below!)

****

He's late.

Not one to waste time, you stood outside the shop at 4pm sharp, arms folded across your torso for warmth, glaring at the sun as if it'd personally offended you by hiding beneath opalescent clouds despite the summer month.

You were fine to wait for five or ten minutes, keeping yourself busy listening to music through your overhead headphones and scrolling through your phone, but as the minutes trickled past and your foot tapped nervously against concrete, you frowned, sent another text-it's not rude to wait indoors, not when the guy you're waiting for is a whooping 15 minutes late, now is it?

You make your order and find a cozy corner to sit at, already bringing out your notes and laptop-the sooner you get this done, the better after all, and you suppose there's no harm in getting a headstart until your project partner arrives.

Yet time flows onwards, with no sight of Mammon to behold.

The ice in your drink has already melted by the time you decide to send him another message, now truly furious as you glanced to the clock on the wall across of you.

You look over your final messages with a sigh as you pack up your belongings, standing up from your seat to head out of the shop.

You're all but ready to storm out when the sound of hurried steps marching your way distracts you, a flurry of white all you see as the chair across you gets dragged back on the wooden floors.

Mammon stumbles into the seat, tilting his head back.

"Ha. Made it" he sighs, turns towards you and has the audacity to smirk, a lazy toothy grin as he slumps further into the seat.

He nods towards you in greeting, blinks owlishly behind his sunglasses. An angry red mark covers his left cheek, one he seems more than oblivious to.

You raise an eyebrow at that, momentarily ignoring the fact that he didn't even apologize for being an hour late as he leans back on his seat, balancing the chair on its back two legs.

You stare at him.

You blink.

And scream.

"What the FUCK Mammon?!" you ask.

He flinches, straightens back his chair as it momentarily threatens to fall.

"Huh? What?!"

"What? What do you mean what?! Where were you?"

He rolls his eyes, shrugs his shoulders with a shake of his head.

"I overslept! Some of us have actual social lives y'know-I was out all night and honestly jus' wanted to sleep all day today" he fumes. "Like, who the hell would wanna spend their saturday doing homework with a nerd?"

Your fingers are about to wrap around your plastic coffee cup and fling it to his head, before Mammon carries on with a sigh.

"At least I was going to, but Satan slapped me and threatened to cut all my credit cards in half if i didnt show up and hes a crazy bastard yknow, if he says it then he fucking means it-" he stifles a yawn, "and im hungover as shit. Why does no one care for me in this family?! I need sleep!"

You clench your teeth.

At least he's here you try to rationalize, at least Satan is a decent person that slapped some sense into him because you'd have no qualms to doing so yourself, peace and love be damned, but instead you sigh, turn to him and say;

"Be late again and I'll let your brothers, Lucifer included, know you were an ass to me."

He dared to laugh at that, shakes his hand as if to dismiss you, "And why would they care what the class nerd says?"

Enough is enough.

You slam your hands on the table, commanding the gaze of everyone in the shop to your form, Mammon flinching back, eyes wide and staring towards you.

"Y/N"

"Huh?"

"My name is Y/N. Not nerd. If you had paid even the slightest attention when I was talking to you, maybe you'd get it through that thick skull of yours. My name is Y/N L/N, im a human fucking person who was stood up for AN HOUR on their single day off, because guess what asshole-I have plans too! My day does not revolve around you and your fucking schedule. You have wasted an hour of my precious time, with not so much as an apology for being late, and you come in here and talk to me like I'm an inconvenience to you?!"

You get up, sling your backpack over your shoulder as Mammon sits frozen in place, eyes never leaving your fuming face.

"Well guess FUCKING what. I don't like you either! I could be hanging out with my friends too, or taking up another shift at my part time work and earning actual money, instead of wasting my time and effort here, waiting for you to get your shit together enough to actually get here and start working on this project so we can pass this class!"

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving Mammon one final cold look.

"Thanks for wasting my time. Go find another project partner, and maybe you two can fail together" is all you say before turning around, walking out the coffee shop without looking back.

Your steps are brisk, pace fast as you make haste, your sole goal to get as far away from this shitty day and back to the comfort of your apartment.

You're about to send a text to Satan, to apologize for going off in his brother after he had the decency to send him to you, when you hear Mammon shuffling behind you, yelling our a 'wait, hold on you ner-uh. Y/N!!'

You do stop at that, turning around with a frown at the sound of your name, arms crossed over your chest.

"What?" you ask.

He's panting, his face washed red, back hunched and hands on his thighs as he looks back up at you-

"I. Uh. Ugh, don't make me say it!"

You sigh.

"Say what, Mammon?"

He grumbles, fidgets with a hand to his hair.

"I'm sorry! Okay!"

'Sorry for what?' you ask, not willing to let this slide. A half hearted apology isn't gonna cut it.

"For...wasting your time. And coming here hungover. And insulting you."

You look him up and down. He's not so bad like this; with this sheepish look on his face, a hand thrown awkwardly to the back of his neck, looking anywere else but your face-even through his yellow tinted sunglasses you can see the deeper shade across his cheeks, a bead of sweat trickling down his right temple, presumably from the effort he made trying to catch up to you.

'Fine' is all you say.

He looks back at you, a small grin of his lips that seems to taste like victory.

"So can we go finish this work now or?"

"No. Not today"

His crestfallen look is almost cute, you muse, but shake your head free of the thought before it takes root in your mind.

"Believe it or not Mammon, I wasn't lying when I said I was a busy person. I don't have anymore time for today, since you so politely wasted it."

"Hey!" he groans, straightening back up, "I said I was sorry!"

"I know. Which is why I'm willing to plan another meetup like this with you. You can come by my workplace tomorrow at the end of my shift and we can plan a rough outline of our topic, or you can text me where you'll be and I can come meet you."

"Where do you work?"

"The local bookstore, down the street from the main campus. You know the one, big but raggedy looking? Has a wooden sign outside called Brimstone?"

He nods, looks to his phone as he replies.

"Yeah I know the one. Satan won't shut up about it."

You exchange further details for a moment, eventually deciding on him coming to pick you up from your work in the afternoon when your shift ends; you guys can go grab a coffee and something to eat at the adjacent coffee shop, and finally get some work done there.

Mammon nods along as you recount tomorrow's plan, his previous attitude watered down and like this-leaning close to you in the busy street, huddled together as you show him the location of your workplace on google maps, his focused little pout, his blue eyes big and juxtaposing thick white lashes-hell, he's almost attractive like this.

Almost.

You bite back the intrusive thought and bid him goodbye, heading straight back to your shitty apartment-you're supposed to finish up your essay today and start on yet another pending report.

Instead you can't get these flashes of white and gold out of your head all day.

*****

-Masterlist-

#i wrote this at 2am orz hope its not too bad will return and edit stuff later on #obey me #obey me smau #mammon smau #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #obey me uni! au #obey me mammon

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tparker48 · 1 year

Text

The day would be bright as Lisa made her way through the market with her friend Mike. Making their way through, they visited many Jewelry shops and trinkets booths to see what they would like. Lisa Especially as she search for things that would match her purple purse. But after time went, the grew hungry when the decided to take a break at a food stand. Ordering some fish sticks, the two sat on the benches and talked.

"This place really has it all, the product they got here are really nice" Lisa commented.

"And expensive. You sure you wanna shop here? I'm sure there's other places that can have some good things for you try." Mike chimed in, picking up a fishstick as he placed it into his mouth.

"Nonsense, if your going tonfind something if special value, why nit goto a market afterall?"

"Im just saying, I'm just saying" he laughed playfully. "Well then, which would you like to hit next?"

"There's a jewelry shop that might hold some goid stuff, we can hit that once we're done." she finished her meal before she stood up to adjust her shirt. "But first, I have to use the bathroom. I'll be right back." she threw hers away before she went to the back of the market. Mike only nodded before continuing to eat his fish. Lisa made her way down the alley as she used the directions from staff to find her way to the bathroom. Heading inside, she went through the paneled doors to do her business.

A few minutes later, she came back out as she followed the path to return to mike. "Alright, now that that's over with, i think there's another jewelry shop I saw in the way here. I heard this time around they some pearls that-grk"

She bumped into a solid object as a she stepped back from what she hit. Looking up to as built but skinny guy as he blocked her way. "Hey there little lady" they said, their voice smooth, but mischievous. "It's most important to watch where you going. You don't know who you might run in to."

"Oh, terribly sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Apologies for knocking into you Mr.." she said.

"Charlie, call me charlie."

"Charlie. Well then Charlie, I apologize again" she said once more, moving past charlie. "now if you excuse me I'll-" a tug would pull at her pants, stopping her in her tracks. Looking back, a hand clasped at her belt, Charlie's hand as his gaze met hers.

"Not so fast" he smirked deviously "You can't just walk away without paying a little fee"

"Fee?"

"Yeah fee, it gets so hard to find some good clothes nowadays. And you went and tarnished mind. And that's just won't do. Butch, Skimpy?" He looked behind him, two other figure stepping out from the alley. Skimpy was short as he came just to the waist of the other figure. And the other, Butch, his body built like a large drumstick as he towered over them all. "So watcha got?" He turned to Lisa, his grip growing tighter.

"I-I really should be getting back. I got someone waiting-"

"Waiting?!" Charlie mocked, swinging her against the wall. Pinning a hand next to her side as he leaned in close. "Im sure they wouldn't mind waiting a bit longer. But first.." He paused, drawing a finger across her chin "let's get that fee taken care of.."

He eyed her clothes for any valuables. Looking at her hearted necklace as it swayed around her neck. It looked decent enough, but even that wouldn't even be a hefty. Her dress did seem it as rocks shined around the fabric, but any who'd take a glance at that wouldn't even sell a penny. Looking to her waist, he looked at her purple purse as it swayed around her hip. A devious smile spreading across his face. "That purse will do just fine."

About half an hour passed since Lisa went to the bathroom. Mike already finished with his fish sticks as he laid across the table, looking to the alley way to see Lisa come from it. But no one came through that he recognized. "Wonder what's taking her so long?" He asked himself, getting from the table as he followed the trail that she took. Stepping towards an alley way, he began to walk through to head to the bathroom. But stopped when Lisa walked from behind the corner. Her dress torn at the bottom as her hat was muddy. "Lisa?! What happened?!"

"Hmm? Oh this? Just had a little bit of tustle with a few folks."

"Are you hurt?" He asked checking her sides. She seemed alright from he saw. Now bruises, no scratches, everything looked good. But he noticed her purse was gone. "Where's your purse."

"oh..that raggedy thing. Don't worry about it..its not much I want you to bother with."

Mike didn't know what to say to her response. Looking at her face as her expression seemed sad. But his attention looked forward when laughter lingered ahead. The three guys huddled together, celebrating upon their latest steal. One raising their hands as the purple purse held between them, before they bolted further into the Alley way. Mike's hand clenched as they disappeared behind the corner, wantng to chase after them. but looked to Lisa as she looked to the ground, taking her hand her hand and leading her out the alley way. "Come on, lets get you of these dirty clothes" he said softly. Lifting her off the ground and carrying her back to the market place.

After buying her some new clothes to wear, Mike treated her to a restaurant as he bought her some tea. Setting her along the outside tables before he stood in front if her. "Now that you're all dry, how about you catch up on some shows." He handed her his phone.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna go take a quick walk around the place. See the sights a little bit"

"Oh..okay" she replied.

Mike lowered toward her and kissed her forhead. "Don't worry, I'll back." He assured with a smile. But when he turned, his smile would flipped as he walked from the table. Vanishing around the corner. "Now where are those three.."

**********************************************

In a warehouse just a few houses down from the market, the three crooks hid inside. Away from other people, They looked through Lisa's bag. Throwing out document and papers, before digging through the pockets and found cash"Oh ho man, look at all this money." Charlie said. Shaking them oit and letting the money spill on the floor.

"Right?! This chick was packing!" Skimpy chimed in. Snatching the bag from charlie, he looked inside the purse as well. Noticing a small golden mirror resting inside the pocket. He went to reach in for it, but butch latched onto the purse. Lifting it as Skimpy dangled in the air. "H-hey!"

"Don't go spoiling the goods. We still gotta figure out how to sell it!"

"Yeah? Well until I het this mirror first!" Skimpy said. Fanning at the purse to reach inside. Butch rolled his eyes and shook the bag the to loosen skimpy's grip. Watching him fall on rear as he stood smugly over him. "Why you lousy-" skimpy got from his spot and charge at Butch. The big guy holding his palm along his head to keep him away. "Just wait until I get my hands on you!" He yelled up to him. Butch chuckling at his efforts to bypass his arm.

"Big guys, right. We hit the jackpot with this one. This purse is gonna make us millions! We gotta play our cards right, so don't damage it you two"

"That purse doesn't belong to you.." Mike's voice pierced through the air. Startling the three crooks as he entered into the building. His form towering past the shelves.

"Who are you supposes to be?" Charlie asked.

"None of that is your concern. But I know what is, that purse your holding." He pointed to the two holding it. "Give it to me.."

"Give it to you?!" Skimpy responded. "We caught this bag fair and square!"

"Yeah!" Butch responded, letting go of Skimpy as he crashed into the shelf. "It was easy pickings taking it from that scrawny woman. We're not giving it up!"

"That scrawny woman..is my friend" Mike scorned. His fist cracking as they shook in place. His steps more louder the closer he got to the three.

"Alright, I think I've heard enough of this" Charlie said. Annoyed he had to cut his search through the bag short. "Butch! Take this trash to the curb!"

"Hehe, with pleasure." He grinned. Dropping the bag to the floor, pounded his fist together and charged at Mike. Balling his fist, he punched forward. Awaiting to see his fist connect to his face. Nearly imagining the deformed expression he would have after once it landed, But his fist wouldn't connect. Instead, his hurtling fist crashed into Mike's palm. His force overwhelmed as it stopped in place. "What the?"

"I tried doing things nicely.." Mike groaned. Reaching forward, He Clasped at Butch's neck.punching him in the gut to throw him off.

"Bastard!" Butch wheezed. "Get off me!"

Mike pulled him to the ground and pinned at his heck. "It's not so easy picking on someone your own weight" Mike said. Pressing harder, his hand started to glow. Pulsing lightly as his hold on Butch's neck grew wider.

"Butch what are you doing?! Fight him!" Charlie barked. Watching as he struggled underneath Mike.

"You're dead meat! You hear me!" Butch yelled. Pushing into Mike's palm to get him off, the pulse getting stronger the further he struggled. After seconds of twisting and turning, He found that he grew smaller. And smaller, and smaller, until the thick fingers stretched at his back. "What the? Wha..what did you do to me?!"

"Now you're getting the picture.." Mike said. Curling his fingers around Butch. Hoisting him into his hand, he turned him over to himself. Glaring at the now small man, watching him twist and pound between his fingers to get himself free. But he wouldn't let him. Tightening his grip, he Presented Butch to Charlie and Skimpy, their shocked expressions spreading across their faces.

"He's..small." Skimpy muttered.

"The heck you do to butch?!" Charlie asked furious.

"Made him into a size more manageable. Now he's no bigger than a small hacky sack" Mike replied. He tossed Butch around, juggling him from one hand to the other. Never batting an eye toward him as he kept his gaze the two in front of him. Butch's form flying by below, feeling his body get more smaller with each land he would make his hand. the heavy weight that collided against it getting lighter, as his palm now refusing to move upon impact. After the last toss, he stopped and held Butch between his fingers. The once bulky brute Now no bigger than his pinky.

"Unshrink me you lousy bastard! Fight me like a man!" Their voice yelled. Coming off as noise when they reached Mike's ears.

"Think it's time to shut that mouth of yours" Mike responded. He unzipped his pants before loosening his briefs. Releasing his flaccid cock inside, it flopped onto his waistband. The head already sticking out from the shrouded skin as it pulsed heavily. Cupping it into his hand, he pointed the head upwards. Moving his occupied hand overhead as Butch dangled over the smooth surface of the head.

"Hey, what fo you think you're doing?!" Butch yelled. But received no response from Mike. Instead, the other hand came to view as it lowered to the edge of the cock head. With just a squeeze, the slit gaped open, presenting it pink tunnel inside. "He waai-" Letting go, Butch races toward the gaping maw of the slit. plunging shoulder deep into his urethra, before a thumb tucked the rest of him inside. His legs the only thing left sticking out.

"What the hell!"

"There's no way!"

"Finally I can hear myself think" Mike said. Unfazed by the flailing legs sticking out of his cock. Feeling Butch worm around the thick tube like fish, as he curled a finger underneath bulge sticking out from its length. He'd be lying to say he didn't enjoy, so he decided to let it be known. Stroking slowly his slit climbed to Butch's ankles. Swallowed its meal down its length before the bulge got lost in his strokes. Letting him sink the rest of the as he deposited into his balls.

"he..really.."

"Took a lot more time than expected, but he's in." He said to them. He displayed his sac to them as his right nut swelled, Hand and footprints soon extending out from it. "Who's next?" He eyed at the two crook, slowly walking forward.

"Get the purse!" Charlie yelled. Bolting to the hallway of the warehouse. Shaken up, Skimpy followed behind him. Lookimg over his shoulder to eye Mike. His tall form filling the door frame, His cock filling its view as Mike dropped and let them sag back between his legs

"What are we doing?!" Skimpy yelled as ran behind Charlie. His little legs nearly tripping on themselves in efforts to catch up.

"We're taking this purse and we're getting out of this dump!"

"What about Butch?!"

"Forget him!" Charlie said.

The two turned the corner and raced through the hallway, Doors flying by them as cob webs flung at their shoulders. Traveling further, the two entered into a larger space. Suing machines aligning in columns, leasing toward a main table resting at the corner of the walls. Looking around, they found an exit door along the left side of the room. Heading toward it as the tried to bust through Its panels. But they held steady, the panel is creaking heavily with each tackle they made. The panels stopping halfway, before pushing against them.

"What's the hold up! Open them!" Charlie yelled.

"They won't budge!" Skimpy shouted. Reaching on the other end to see why they wouldn't move. Feeling bulky metal wrapped around the handles. "There's chains on them!"

While they focused on the door, they stopped when footsteps echoed from the door across the room. Looking to the dark hallway they exited from, they weren't sure how much time they had left before Mike appeared. Grabbing Skimpy's collar, Charlie rushed to the other doors around the large room. Busting into a room as furniture scattered around inside. A wooden wall next to them aligning with the couch as it stretched to the window. This can't be the only spot they could hide. But where else would they good? Closing the door, Charlie pulled Skimpy with him as they hid behind the furniture. Hiding behind a sofa as they peered over the top of it.

"Charlie-"

"Shh!" He hushed Skimpy. The faint footsteps getting louder, a silhouette soon casting over the glass window.

Pushed open, the two hid behind the sofa. Mike stepping out from the door as he made his way inside. "hmm.." His groan traveled through the space. His steps clicking on the tiled floor. He Scaled the room for any sign of the crooks. A hand at his balls as he held his sac in the center of its palm. "Come out, come out.." He said into the room.

Following the empty path to the window, looked to the furniture ahead that blocked the way. But looked away as he turned to the wooden wall a few feet away. "I know you two are here somewhere. Why don't you make it easier for the both of us and hand me that purse." He said. Looking to his sac, the right orb bounced upward. A pouch of skin stretching outward as it drooped over the side of his palm. Its egg-like shape jostling in place as Butch struggled inside. "Your friend's pretty restless." He said. lowering a finger down to scoop his teaticle back into his palm, pinning a thumb on top as he rubbed over its surface. "I wonder how you two will fair?"

He turned toward the door and walked toward it to search the other rooms. Looking to the couch just a few feet from door. Peering at for just a moment, before finally making his way out. As the door closed, Charlie and skimpy peeked out from behind the couch. Mike's shadow moving away from the door.

"Phew.. That was close.." Skimpy whispered.

"Keep quite you fool, we don't want him to know we're-"

Crash! A hand extended out from the wall as it clasped at Charlie's shirt. Another bursting through as it grabbed at the Skimpy's as well. The two tried to run to reduce Mike's hold along them, but he refused to relent. Heaving them to the wall as their backs slapped against the wooden board.

"Grgh!" Charlie pried at the wall. Hoisting himself slowly away from the wooden surface, but the arm pulled him back. A loud creak echoing from behind as Mike heaved harder.

"Charlie! I Can't get free!" Skimpy yelled. Cracks beginning to form at his back. The wall caving in on the hole upon the increased strength. Breaking through, the arm pulled retreated past the wall. Skimpy screa3mimg as he zoomed through the wall and into the other room. A flash soon shining as their voice grew smaller.

"Holy!!" Charlie gasped. Increasing his efforts to break free of Mike's grasp. He knew he was next, feeling the hand at his shirt grow tighter. Heaving backwards as it crashed through the wall, Charlie latched onto the wall as his back sunk in. "Grh! I'm not going in there!" He yelled. Pulling harder as he felt the strength coursing through the arm. It was like fighting against weights as each pull sunk his back downwards. His shirt beginning to tear as the corner of the fabric ripped off as it stretched to his sleeve. Snapping off, Charlie bolted for the door. Grabbing the purse along the way as he ran out the room. Looking over to the his shoulder see mike stepping out the opposite room.

"He got, Skimpy, Butch. This guy is crazy!" Charlie wheezed through his breath. Breathing heavily as he Bolted down the hall. Turning at another door, A door shined further ahead. This was it, a way out! Holding his breath he ran with all his strength to open panel, but halted when Mike stepped in the way. Their eyes meeting each other.

Mike only shook his head. Holding his cock in hand to display it to Charlie. A little foot sticking out the slit as it suckles around their ankle, a clench sending it inside as drizzle of pre drooled from its lips.

Charlie didn't know what to say. Frozen as he gazed at Mike's balls, the other testicle filling as it swelled the same height as the other. But when Mike stepped forward, his body told him to run. Bolting through the hallway from where he came through. Running into room, he hid behind the wall to catch his breath. He's won't stop, this guy was relentless! He the thought to himself. Afraid to peek out from behind the door, he looked to the purse as he held onto the handle. "This purse, all this for a damn purse!" He cursed. His head perking up as footsteps came from behind. Mike soon stepped inside, Charlie's heart sinking as he bolted down a pathway next to him. Hoping to find another way around, but instead found a dead end. Turning to Mike as he blocked the way. "L-look! You want the purse? Here!.." Charlie stuttered. Kicking the purse over to Mike "Take it! I don't want it!"

As the purse slid to Mike, he stared at it for split second. But stepped over it as his gaze Met Charlie's.

"W-what's the deal?! You've got the purse, now leave me alone! Hrck!" A palm collided against Charlie's neck.

"You think handing over the purse will weasel your way out of what you three did. I don't think so." Mike scorned. Raising the Charlie higher until their head aligned his.

"What?!" Charlie wheezed.

"You didn't care when my friend was pushed around. So allow me to show you what it's like to be on the other end." Mike said. Pressing harder, his hand began to glow. Slowly beginning to pulse as the Charlie started to shrink.

"Wait!...Wait!"

**********************************************

About an hour passed since Mike went on his walk. Lisa finishing off a sip of the coffee she ordered as she browsed through her stories. But noticed the crowd grow less vibrant than before. Most have already left to go shopping, whereas others went inside. "I wonder what type of purses are online.." She sighed. Flicking through her phone as she clicked on the online order, but looked up when a figure stood in front of her. A familiar face coming to view. "Oh there you are Mike. I almost thought you went around shopping without me."

"And miss all the shops without you? Come on you know me better than that by now" Mike chuckled.

"I suppose your right." She smiled back. "So how was your walk?"

"It was pretty good, got see a lovely sight. And look what I found along the way." He pulled the purple purse from his back. Hovering it front of him to Lisa.

"My purse!" Her eyes lit up. Grabbing a hold of the handle as she looked inside. Everything was there, like it never left. "But how did you.."

"I ran into those guys from before. Had a little talk with them about what happened"

"you did?! Are you hurt?!"

"Oh I'm fine. A little winded a bit, but I'll live. But for now.." He took Lisa's hand into his. Lifting her off the table and into arms, how about we finish our shopping together. I saw a fashion store that just might have what you'rer looking for to match your purse.

"Oh really? Let us go then" she said.

Mike nodded as he lead her forward. A hand at her back as he walked alongside her.

"Im so glad I got my purse back. But there's still one thing Im pondering How did you get them to hand you the purse?"

"Well, I showed them somes jewels of mine that I carry with me all the time. Shared a bit of it with them and just let me have." He said.

"Oh, I didn't know had jewelry. You you gabe them diamonds?"

"Something like that.."

As the two continued to walk, Mike scratched at his crotch to adjust the fabric wedging between them. At least from what he told Lisa. But inside, his balls swelled as they jostled around between his legs. The left testicle toppling over the right as they bounced over one another. Bulges stretching out from them in the progress.

"Well this is just the perfect mess isn't it?" Charlie muffled from the left nut. Pushing outward from his own prison to stop himself from knocking into the from coated walls.

"We just had to steal that purse! We couldn't have just stuck to scams instead!" Skimpy muffled from the right nut. It form much more swollen as both him and Butch shared their prison egged prison.

"Lousy stinking bastard, when I get out of here I'm gonna gonna beat him to a pulp!" Butch thrashed around. Punching at the elastic walls of the sac to cause an uproar, but they'd barely make a difference from the constant bouncing from Mike's legs.

"Will you stop moving Butch, you're splashing me into the cum."

"Cry me a river, Im cramped as it is without your whiny butt in it!"

"Who you calling whiny!"

"You squirt!"

"Shut up already!" Charlie yelled.

#cock vore #shrink

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sorcererslittledragon · 7 months

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I recently turned 30. Its been almost a month now. I have started noticing just how entirely done i am with peoples bullshit. I am very much queer, in most of the ways it is possible to be queer. I am very much autistic and very much adhd. I am disabled in other ways too. I had a very sheltered childhood, i had my issues, sure, but everyone does. But since becoming an adult i have realized i was extreemly lucky not to have faced half the bullshit everyone else seems to have had to deal with.

I had an overwhelmingly optimistic view of people and the world. Ive since come to my senses and realized that the world is pretty great actually. Human civilization is usually a terrible mix of 8 parts absolute trash fire to 1 part pretty cool actually. People are broadly good or at least want to be but are very easily manipulated, usually very stupid, and always heavily traumatized so they fail to be even halfway decent more than half the time, but by and large they are trying. And thats important. Not enough by any means but important.

I have learned so much about suffering and cruelty and hatred. About fear and oppression and violence. About what being an adult is really like (a whole lot less knowing wtf i am doing than expected let me tell you).

But i have also learned this. Most of the time people just need a helping hand. Sometimes thats a ride. Or a hot meal. A real shower. A couch to sleep on. Sometimes its paperwork. Sometimes its a smile or a friendly wave. A kind word, a small gesture.

And sometimes it looks like this. Holding both of my partners hands in public. Wearing rainbows. Calling people out when they say or do shitty things. Calling companies out for breaking the ADA (and reporting them for those). Sometimes its looking someone in the eyes and saying. No. I am autistic and you are wrong about us. Sometimes its showing the closeted lgbtqia youth that they are safe around me. Sometimes it is punching fascists in the face. Sometimes its pieing bigots on public television. It is being loud. Unapologetic. Proud.

It is looking the world in the eye and saying no, fuck you, YOU MOVE.

It is looking hate in the eyes and saying. Go ahead, try me.

So yeah. Im done being the nice gay. The quiet autistic. The silent majority. I am going to be loud and proud and mean enough to take everything the world throws at me to try and make me shut up and i am going to throw it back in its face with a roar and a smile because fuck that bullshit. I AM HERE AND YOU CANT MAKE ME GO AWAY.

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taigaoftundrablog · 9 months

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blog of week 34, 2023 (sick and capitalism edition)

this week has been noticeably more interesting than the last one, im sorry for the delay to wednesday though!...

i was really busy on monday/tuesday and the weekend so i didn't have time to write the blog

essentially that means this one will be made in a single afternoon (yippee!!) but at least i have enough to talk about so i hope it wont be boring

the part where i answer questions

this first one will just be testing out how i'm gonna format this (thanks veronica)

veronicaxoxo asks: "veronica"

answer: yeah sometimes

that is literally it for this week, if i don't get much to answer i might scrap this section entirely as i don't really have much to well answer

taiga gets sick and dies due to the schoolwork

time for my sanity of the week, this time: not so good

got sick, was away from school for like the entire week, and i gotta say the first full week of high school is not good to miss, had lots of work i needed to do when i started feeling better and i just got everything done today (half of it literally during class lmfao)

i actually don't have much else to say about that it just sort of happened and that's it

poor financial decision plans (i am so glad they were only plans)

ok imagine you have 110 euros and you might get more during your birthday (i have my birthday this week, you'll hear about that next week), would you decide to spend plausibly 120 bucks on an 80 euro collector's edition of hollow knight? yeah i don't know what was up with me there, honestly

after that whole ordeal i have decided to just buy a switch pro controller, hollow knight and i'll get mario wonder when it comes out

art and other stuff progress update

i haven't done much on art things, but i'm looking at things like 3d modelling so i might start trying that at some point, otherwise, not much going on, as far as you know anyway :scheming:

only normal drawing of myself i've done this week:

other things i've been doing is just playing switch games yeah, i'm soon done with the first world of my super world in mario maker 2 (2 levels left) so that's cool, hopefully i can make levels which are interesting and fun to play with decent difficulty

closing thoughts

been a nice week overall despite me being sick, i feel like this week will be a little nicer even, since birthday and other junk, but who knows really?

only way to find out is to wait and see

but i'll see y'all next week! you can obviously ask any questions in the comments etc.

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beautifulnightmareunknown · 1 year

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oh deer (lol this is cringy)

hiii. so my morning was actually really nice. i woke up, went to the gym with my sis, got back home, ate and made my meals for the day then went to go get ready for work. while i was showering grace (my sis) got my clothes and all my “getting ready” things together for me and she even made and brought me my coffee. omfg and she made my bed for me lol. ive loved having her home from college. she really is my best friend. i feel like i can literally talk to her about anything and everything and there is no judgment or negative thoughts/feelings. i go to her for just about anything and she is always there. ANYWAYS, i left home and was bee bopping on my way to work listening to some music and just doing my thang. well i was almost to work and i freaking deer jumps out in front of me. i was only going about 35mph so the damage isnt that bad, but my hood is a little bent up and my grill is a little busted. other than that though my car is fine. i did however get in touch with my insurance guy and hes referring me to this place to get it fixed without filing a claim if i dont have to. hopefully its not too much money, but either way i just want my car fixed. i wouldnt mind driving around a cute little rental car either.

im currently at work right now, its nap time. i really cannot wait to start my new job. this place is just forever getting on my nerves. i love tammy to death (my co-teacher) but damn she is lazy. like when the kids need something shes always like trying to sneak tell them to ask me so that i will do it. and dont even get me started on the admin here. theyre just as bad if not worse. i was supposed to get finger printed like 2 or 3 weeks ago but i was sick on the day i was scheduled so i missed it and they just keep getting on my ass about rescheduling it like its my job to do so. which its not by the way. but little do they know its my last week here so it doesnt even matter. they just all get on my nerves here. its like no one wants to do their job and i mean thats why half the workers are leaving and why the whole class comes to me instead of the lead lol. i am going to miss the kids somewhat but not enough for me to stay and the pay here sucks. but yeah im going to work this week out and then text melanie (the director) that i quit. i dont care how unprofessional that is only because when they hired me here they made me not put in a 2 weeks notice to my previous job like i didnt have a choice and you know what they say.. “do unto others like you would want done to you” or something like that. then ill just have a week to chill and get into my new routine because quite literally fuck this place and lowkey fuck my schedule right now too.

ive been really good this year about keeping a positive mindset and not letting certain things get to me. i plan to keep it that way for the whole year and only work on bettering myself. i have weeded out most toxic aspects of my life and have gained more positive and encouraging in replace. i believe this year is only going to get better and more successful. one of my personal goals for this year is to read as many books as my height. thats crazy sounding i know but i am already off to a decent start with one book lol.

nap time is almost over so i am going to go ahead and sign off now. byeeee

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silverdelirium · 3 years

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STICKY WASHING MACHINE | D.M

summary: draco fucks scorpius’ nanny on the laundry room

warnings: breeding kink, rough sex.

———

“so do you accept?” asked draco to the girl who only stared at him with mouth slightly agape. “i-i mean i guess” she replied, not meeting his eyes.

“see you on monday then” nodded draco and turned on his heel, walking away.

y/n really didn’t know how they ended up on the topic of her being draco malfoy’s son’s nanny. it really wasn’t much work, a three year old baby just needed attention, food and sleep. but still, me out of all people? she thought, why did i even agree?

but here she was, beaming at the sight of scorpius’ new drawing which consisted on draco’s exaggerated tall figure, y/n and scorp. she sometimes felt bad that astoria was never in the picture, in every sense. she had left draco after scorpius turned 3 months old and never came back, draco explained this when they first reencountered, apparently it never really affected him. considering it was an arranged marriage.

“wow baby this is so good, i bet you’re gonna be an artist some day!” you exclaimed at him. he giggled and turned pink but a loud yawn cut his smile off. “i think it’s time for your nap, come on” she said, standing up and dusting off her skirt, scorpius holding up his arms.

y/n settled scorpius on bed and he was asleep in seconds, she chuckled and just snuggled the blanket closer to him. her eye caught a peek of scorpius’ laundry basket. sure, she was just a nanny that was supposed to take care of the child and that was it, the clothes were the elf’s work. but scorpius was terrified of them so draco took care of his clothes, y/n decided to just take his clothes to the laundry room and throw them inside the washing machine.

as y/n made her way to the laundry room, draco came through the fireplace that was at the whole other wing of the manor, making y/n unconscious of his presence.

draco gave a big sigh and immediately entered the kitchen for a glass of wine, opening up the cabinet that had one of the bottles opened already, courtesy of draco’s previous stress.

he knew scorpius must be asleep, taking notice of the silence that resonated through the manor’s atmosphere. in his midst of thinking, a few drops spilled from the rim his cup when he inclined it too harshly, making them spill on his white shirt. draco gave a groan at this and threw his head back.

narcissa always told draco that it was better to immediately wash clothing items if he ever spilled something on them. so he grumpily made his way to the laundry room.

as he got closer he could hear shuffling of clothes and a low humming, eventually stopping at the doorway to catch sight of y/n bent over, placing small clothing items into the washing machine. he went wide eyed at the peak he caught of her lace pink panties, cunt perfectly outlined.

draco was frustrated, sexually more than ever. he always found y/n hot, even in hogwarts, he remembers having a huge crush on her during fourth and fifth year, but they never really talked except for the polite hello’s and brief conversation when they were partnered in class.

right now, all the past emotions were coming back. and he wanted nothing more than to fuck her like he never did to a woman before. for hours and hours until she turned into nothing but a blabbering mess.

y/n eventually straightened up and went to pick more clothes, but she was met with a paralized draco on the doorframe.

“oh- hello draco, i didn’t know you were back” she saluted politely, going back to scorpius small basket that was placed on top of the dryer.

draco was snapped out of his trance at her voice, he swallowed hard before responding, “evening, just came to- uh put this in the washing machine” he gestured to his shirt, making her look at his chest but eventually trailing down to his very apparent bulge.

he saw how her eyes went wide but she said nothing and just gulped and nodded, gaze not meeting his.

the laundry room really wasn’t that big, making it hard for draco to pass y/n to go to the washing machine that was placed next to the dryer. but he still came in contact with her. his clothed cock pressing perfectly into her ass, a small gasp escaping her while draco grunted at the friction.

they both stilled.

y/n was the first to turn around, groin now pressing into her front, he was breathing heavily. and like magnets they connected together, tongues exploring each other’s mouth. draco’s hands rubbing her ass, down until the back of her thighs were in his large hands. he tapped them lightly, signaling her to jump, which she obliged instantly and jumped, draco hoisting her onto the washing machine.

he disconnected their lips to travel down to her neck, a small whine escaping her when he found her sweet spot. draco absolutely devouring the skin and littering it with purple hickeys. he eventually pulled away to take a good look at his little piece of art.

y/n brought him back into a heated kiss while unbuttoning his shirt, his own hands finding way to the hem of hers. once he shrugged off his shirt he helped her pull hers off, throwing it onto the floor. he pulled away from the kiss once again to look at her soft mounds that sat perfectly in a bra, he groaned at the sight as his cock twitched on his trousers.

“can i take this off sweet thing?” he asked, tone low as he hooked a finger on the bra strap.

y/n eagerly nodded, draco wasting no time and unclasping the bra in a quick motion, disregarding it to the side, mouth immediately attaching to her nipple while his hand toyed with the other. she gave a moan at this breathing heavily and leaning back on her palms, panties soaked and pussy throbbing.

draco kissed his way down to her stomach, dragging her skirt down until it hit the floor. he stepped back and admired with pure mesmerization at y/n’s form, tits with perked up nipples, dampened panties and breathing hard. “look at my pretty princess” he said, unbuckling his belt and lowering his pants low enough so his dick popped out.

she went wide eyed for the second time that evening at his size. draco was much bigger than anyone she had ever been with and he was just a very big person in general, she wasn’t sure she could take him all.

draco stroked his cock up and down slowly, tip red and leaking with pre-cum. he got closer to her and moved her panties to the side, eyes glinting when he saw her bare cunt, dripping.

“so wet baby” he said as he passed two fingers over her folds, y/n shuddering while he brought them up to his mouth and hummed at the taste, watching her face heat up.

“taste so good too” he growled, inching his face closer to her and leaning their foreheads together while his fingers plummeted themselves slowly into her, a loud moan escaping her lips.

he started moving them at a slow pace, almost torturous. watching intently as she released small whimpers and moans, his cock twitching every now and then.

he started scissoring his fingers inside of her, going faster. “ah! yes draco right there” she moaned out when he curled his fingers, touching that spongy spot inside her. “yeah? think you can take my cock now?” he questioned.

“yes” she replied quickly, pussy clenching at the thought of having him inside her, finally.

he seemed to notice this and chuckled, removing his fingers and dragging them to his cock once again, coating it with her juices. he guided it to her entrance and drenched the tip with her arousal, making y/n buck her hips up and whine.

“sh sh sh, now be patient little girl” he warned, fingers lightly tapping her clit, making her jolt and quickly shut up as she waited in anticipation.

draco entered y/n slowly with a groan, a strangled moan leaving her throat. he let her adjust to his size for a few moments before starting out on a decently fast pace, making her throw your head back and release several moans the faster he went, breasts bouncing everywhere, much to draco’s delight.

he settled for a brutal pace that had the washing machine shaking, watching her eyes go crisscross when he reaches to rub her clit.

“fuck baby look at this pretty pussy squeezing me, so fucking tight” he groaned, looking down at her juices dripping out, thighs glistening. “you have no idea how many times i’ve dreamt about this” he said, voice strained. she hummed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down to another steamy kiss, he greedily ate every moan she made, her legs starting to tremble.

“fuck baby im close” he said when she pulled away for breath. “me too!” she replied, his thumb assaulting her clit harsher.

“yeah? gonna cum all over me? and then let me put my fucking cum inside you until your fucking pregnant?” he teased, moving his hands to grip her ass, y/n gave a loud moan in response and rapidly nodded, orgasm right at its peak. “fuckfuckfuck yes draco!” she screamed as she came, legs completely shaking and letting that coil snap while he fucked her faster, riding out her high while chasing his.

“shit, gonna cum so hard inside you and give you my kids princess” he groaned, his thrust sloppy when his orgasm hit him, releasing a loud moan as he came.

after they both calmed down from their highs he sighed in pleasure and looked down to her puffy cunt, he pulled out slowly and watched as her pussy spurted out both cums. he collected some on his fingers and held them up to y/n.

she opened her mouth and kept eye contact as she sucked on them, humming at the taste like he had done previously, making his once soft cock perk up immediately. she was gonna be the death of him.

she giggled at his reaction and got off the, now sticky washing machine due to their arousal on it, leaning her top half over it and arching her back. draco’s mouth agape at the view.

“round 2?” she taunted.

but right as draco was about to fuck her into tomorrow, a small paddle of feet could be heard in the distance with a faint “daddy? y/n?”.

———

part two

🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @helleli @metaraxia @daddybutmakeitagirl @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fic

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wonwoonlight · 3 years

Text

my daisy / chapter 7 | kim mingyu

➝ CEO!Mingyu x Secretary!Reader

➝ strangers to lovers // single dad!Mingyu // fluff // lighthearted // non idol!au // like pls dont expect any dramas here lol // tiny bit of angst ig

➝ series warning: mentions of sex, no smut but there’s implied sexual activities, insecurity (as always jshbdjhsfshbf am sorry), curses, food, let me know if theres more ^^

➝ word count: 3.6k

➝ A/N: HI HOW ARE WE HOLDING UP I AM GOING CRAZY BC THE COMEBACK IS TOMORROW AND I WANNA LISTEN TO THE SONGS ALREADYYYYYYY. on another note! surprise? haha decided to post a little earlier bc i dont see why not when im this happy over the comeback... anyhow!!!! we're finally here for Mingyu & OC moments!!!!!!!!

when your cousin asks you to be her substitute at SVT Inc. as she takes her maternity leave, you’re pretty sure this wasn’t what you signed up for.

series masterlist

The next few days pass by quickly. Either all of the companies here want to meet Mingyu while he’s in town or if it’s just Jennie’s efficient scheduling, you never seem to ever get out of a meeting until it’s at least 6 in the evening.

Two days more then you’re going home. Even though your bed isn’t half as comfortable as the bed in Triple W Hotel, you still miss it and you want to go back to your room already. Being in Japan for work and being in Japan for holiday are two different things, it turns out. You barely even have time to sit down and relax, let alone enjoy the Tokyo scene.

[19:01] SVT Kim Mingyu: have you had dinner?

[19:01] SVT Kim Mingyu: should we go outside and eat?

[19:02] SVT Kim Mingyu: or are you sick of seeing me already

That… is different, too. Spending days following Mingyu around without Seungkwan and any other familiar faces means he’s the sole comfort for your introverted ass. Given, the time you spend with just Mingyu is usually in the car when you’re moving from one place to another, it’s still enough time for the both of you to get even closer.

Because even for lunch and dinner the guy is packed with schedules to have meals with some kind of representatives (and a few friends, you think), you haven’t had the chance to eat with Mingyu again after that sushi place. You usually just eat by yourself while you wait for him to be done. On top of that, Mingyu would have room service for breakfast while you go downstairs to the hotel restaurant area to have yours.

You wonder if that’s the reason why your heart jumps at the invitation.

Huffing a little after replying to Mingyu’s text with a ‘sure! when?’, you quickly go through your suitcase when he replies: ‘in 15 mins?’. Maybe you should thank Jisoo for insisting you to bring more clothes than you would’ve, because there’s no way you’d be going out with Mingyu in what you’d usually consider casual. As much as you try to insist it isn’t a date, you should at least look decent going out with someone who looks like Kim Mingyu (or in general, really, but Mingyu makes you extra conscious even though he never says anything about the way you dress).

Taking one last look in the mirror, you nod to yourself before you step out of your room. Why are you even nervous? You’re just having dinner together, like you usually would with Jihoon, Soonyoung, or Seokmin. Mingyu probably doesn’t want to eat by himself and he’s finally out of dinner appointments. He’s just asking to go with you as a friend. Jennie would most likely have to accompany him eat like this too, you remind yourself.

“Oh? Hi,” someone greets you as you wait for the elevator. “A bit early, are we?”

You grin at Mingyu as your eyes flick to your own watch that says it’s only been 10 minutes since his text, pretending like you’re not flustered. Gosh, you practically see this man everyday and you still blush at his good look?

“Had nothing to do.”

“What, no report to finish?” he jokes, telling you to go in first when the elevator door opens.

“With all due respect, Sir,” you playfully clear your throat, flicking your hair back as he settles next to you. “I am off the clock.”

The sound of his laughter fills the elevator, one that brings a genuine smile out of you, too. Before he can say anything more, the elevator door opens again and a whole family enters the limited space, pushing you back closer to Mingyu. His hand reaches for your arm out of reflex when you stumble, and you can’t help getting warm at the feeling of his fleeting touch on your skin.

“You okay?” he asks as if you just got trampled on. But you nod nevertheless, telling him you’re fine and you just trip on nothing. He chuckles at this, leaning down to your ear and tells you to be careful which prompts your face to heat up over his breath fanning your hair.

You glance at the small drawing on top of the elevator buttons, a sign that says the elevator can only hold the weight of 15 people at most. You’re pretty sure there aren’t that many people yet, but the elevator already feels crowded as it is. Despite that though, of course, when the elevator opens again, the next group of people insists on coming in because there seems to be enough space for another three. The family from earlier shifts to make space, which forces you to press yourself closer to Mingyu.

The guy doesn’t seem to mind though, even pulls you further by the arm so you’re standing in front of him instead. His hands move to your shoulders, holding you in place so you won’t stumble again.

This is something that you notice just recently, but Mingyu, like Gyuri (or is it the other way around?), is just naturally touchy with people he’s comfortable with—which already extends to you, it turns out. You notice how Mingyu would absentmindedly reach for your arm when he’s calling you, or, now that you think about it, how he’d often place his hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder when he’s trying to point out something to the guy. Maybe that’s where Gyuri gets her touchy nature from.

You take in a deep breath at the proximity, thanking the universe at least Mingyu wouldn’t be able to see your nervous face from this position. He’s so close, to the point where you can feel his chest hovering against your back. One stop backwards and you’ll meet his chest.

—and that’s your cue to stop thinking about it before your body somehow registers it as a command instead of a passing thought.

You look down on your feet to mask your nerves as the elevator goes down further and further, the weight of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders feeling heavier as seconds go by. Another minute and you know you’ll be thinking about this for weeks, the ghost of his touch haunting you until God knows when. Honestly, why are there so many floors in this building and why does everyone want to get into the elevator?!

You unknowingly release a relieved sigh when the elevator hits the lobby, and you can hear Mingyu chuckle from behind you as you do so. You turn to give him a confused glance, but he simply shakes his head then pushes you to get out of the elevator.

You hate the way you’re almost disappointed the moment he pulls away and pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“What do you feel like eating?” he casually asks, matching his pace with yours.

“Um, just… street food?” you honestly say. “But I know that’s not a meal for you, so I’ll just follow whatever you feel like eating.”

Mingyu hums as he contemplates his options before eventually answering. “How about some ramen? Then we can go to this festival my friend mentioned.”

You light up at the mention of festival, having always wanted to go on one but you’re not really sure about when they even hold those kinds of things. Mingyu holds back a grin at the sudden change of your posture, excitement buzzing throughout your body.

“Let’s go then,” he says, signaling you to follow him. You happily trail behind the tall guy, sniffing a little the moment you step out of the hotel glass door as the chill night breeze greets you. Maybe you shouldn’t have just worn shorts and a sweater during this weather, but you honestly don’t want to go back and get another layer just for the sake of it. You can bear it; you’ve always liked the cold anyway.

Initially, you thought you’re waiting for Mingyu’s usual driver by the lobby. But when the valet driver instead comes out and gives the key back to Mingyu, you blink hardly at what this implies. Mingyu tilts his head to the side, telling you to take the front seat as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

You exhale before you open the door of his car, hoping you would make it out of the night sane.

“Wow, it’s packing here, huh?” you exclaim as you join the short queue in front of the door.

“Yeah, which is why I usually order take out or have someone deliver it to the hotel,” he scrunches his nose. You’re glad he’s not fussy about the queue though. Yes, it’s not a long one, but you’re well aware that some people think they’re too good for queues.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Feels like going out,” he vaguely answers.

Mingyu steps forward after the person in front of you moves in, nodding at whatever the waitress is telling him and then holds up two of his fingers. You guess he’s telling her it’s just going to be the two of you, but she says something that gets Mingyu shrugging before he nods nonchalantly, exclaiming that it’s okay (evidently one of the few Japanese phrases you’ve picked up from the whole trip).

“She says the only available place for two is on a high table so we have to sit side by side instead of facing each other,” he briefly explains. “I guess people tend to want to sit facing each other, which is why she has to make sure we’re okay sitting on a stool bar. Plus, we might have to share the table with another party.”

You let out an ‘aah’ as you nod, taking in the weirdly luxurious design for a ramen place. You wonder if Mingyu has a thing for interior designs judging by the eccentric decorations you’ve found yourself surrounded in everytime you follow Mingyu to a restaurant. He gestures to you to sit on the end of the table before taking the seat next to you, another three seats beside him still empty.

But instead of complying, you tell him to order whatever he thinks is good because you need to go to the restroom real quick. When you come back, the guy is grinning on his screen and the seats beside him are already filled by some guys.

“Look, it’s Daisy,” Mingyu grins even wider that his cheeks hurts a little, moving the camera to you only for you to find Gyuri pouting on the screen.

“Hi Lili!!” you wave happily as you take your seat on the bar stool. “Have you been good?”

“Wanna play Daisy,” she whines sadly, which makes you giggle at her adorable pout. “Daisy come home.”

There’s a content smile on your face that warms Mingyu’s heart, and he doesn’t even realize he’s been staring until the waitress comes to put down the drinks he’s ordered for the both of you, prompting him to look up. He scoots closer to you, dragging the stool with him after he leans his phone on a tissue box so he doesn’t have to keep on holding it.

His scent engulfs you once again. But this time, instead of his usual cologne, it’s the soft smell of his coconut shampoo and fabric softener that floods your senses—and it’s bad because you like this much more than his expensive cologne; there’s a sense of domesticity to it, some kind of exclusivity that only you get to witness.

“Daisy?” Gyuri calls you again, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Miss Lili?”

“Always,” you answer without hesitation. “We’ll play with Auntie Soo, Auntie Nini, and Uncle Cherry once we get back, okay?”

“Promise?” she says her most famous line.

“Promise,” you grin to the screen, painfully aware of how close Mingyu is sitting beside you. Your eyes settle on the small window where you can see yourself and Mingyu on his phone, and you look like you’re leaning against him with his arm on the back of your chair. You’re pretty sure if you move even a bit your shoulder would brush against his chest.

Is that the warmth of his breath against your neck?

“Flower,” Mingyu softly coos, leaning his face forward that it almost looks like he’s leaning his chin on your shoulder from the screen. You can feel your throat tightens and it feels like forever before you’re able to breathe like usual again. “Our food is here. I’ll call you again later, okay?”

You don’t know how Mingyu knows the food is here, but just when Gyuri is about to answer, the waiter comes with two bowls of ramen and serves it to the both of you. Gyuri refuses to hang up just yet, insisting that she still wants to talk to you. So you tell Mingyu he’s welcome to dig in first while you entertain the girl some more.

He can’t help the fond feeling that overwhelms him at the sight of you speaking animatedly to his daughter, answering every single thing that comes out of her mouth as your legs bounce on your seat. Mingyu looks down on your bare legs, and then catches the way the guys beside him say something about you that makes him glad you understand not one of their words.

So he quickly takes the coat that’s hanging on the back of his seat, gently lays it on your lap to cover your thighs from the cold (and from wandering eyes of the three bastards beside him). You look at him in question, but he simply scoots his stool even closer and whispers that it’s cold against your ear. He doesn’t know if he’s simply imagined your soft gasp, but he knows for sure that the guys beside him have quieted at what seems to be an intimate gesture.

They shut up for sure later on when Mingyu sends them an icy glare when they start bringing you up again.

“—bye!” he hears you say at last, and then moves his face closer to yours to say his goodbye to Gyuri too.

“Love you, Papa!”

“Love you, Li,” he grins softly, melting your heart at the sight of it. After Gyuri hangs up, he puts his phone back in the pocket of his jeans and tells you to eat before the ramen gets soggy. So you do just that, thanking him for the food before you stuff your face with the most expensive ramen you’ve probably ever tasted in your life.

“Good?” he asks with an amused smile, chuckling at the way you simply give him a thumb up.

Mingyu lets you be after that, choosing to focus on his meal too because you two seem to be hungrier than you initially thought you were. When you’re both finished, Mingyu refuses your offer to pay for your own meal, saying that it was him who asked you to have dinner with him in the first place. But when you frown and insist, he says you’re free to treat him at the festival instead if you want.

It’s a little funny, if you think about it. To Mingyu, paying for your meal probably doesn’t even cost anything, but you can’t help but feel like it’s inappropriate to let Mingyu pay for everything when you’re out as friends and not as his secretary. It’s the least you could do to ease your conscience.

“We’re walking from here,” he says as he parks the car in a public parking lot. “We might need to walk for five minutes or so, but my friend said this is the nearest parking lot to the festival.”

“Heh, I’ll just consider it exercise,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“It’s not exercise if it’s only for 5 minutes, Daisy,” he playfully says with a nudge on your arm.

You scrunch your nose, hoping it masks the giddy smile on your face at your favorite nickname. “I consider everything that requires me to move my body as exercise.”

“You do know you need to move to eat?”

“Yes.”

“That exercise too?”

“Yes.”

Mingyu looks at you in disbelief, an amused scoff already out of his lips before he can hold it back. Have you always been this cute?

“Alright, you win. Shall we go exercise now?” he asks with a mock politeness. You laugh at this, then pretentiously nod your head with a ‘yes, we shall’ before you follow him and step out of the car. Mingyu stares at you from head to toe, ignoring the pointed look you’re giving him that’s basically asking him why he is not moving. “You… what makes you think it’s a good idea to be wearing shorts in this weather?”

“I… don’t like wearing long pants,” you truthfully answer.

Your boss blinks at the revelation, his mouth turning into an ‘o’. Mingyu still doesn’t move though, so you ask him what he’s waiting for. He holds up a hand, telling you to wait as he walks to the back of his car and rummages through the trunk. He comes back with a hoodie in hand, telling you to wrap it around your waist to help shield your legs from the cold even a little.

You stare at the hoodie, your heart beating way too fast for your liking at the situation, but your mouth sometimes has a tendency to speak first before you can even realize what you’re saying. “With your size? Wearing it will probably cover more of my legs than tying it on my waist.”

“Wear it then,” he tells you pointedly. You stare at him, dumbfounded, and Mingyu simply stares back at you in confusion. “What? It’s clean, I promise. I put it in the trunk the other day just in case.”

When you still keep your silence and stare at him, Mingyu sighs and takes a step forward. You immediately take a step back at that, which makes him scoff in amusement. So he takes another step forward, prompting you to step backward again.

“You really wanna do this?” he asks with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know my legs are far longer than yours?”

“Showoff,” you mumble in annoyance, more to yourself than to him. What happens next doesn’t quite register to you immediately, because how can your brain work properly when Mingyu is suddenly hovering over you, tying the hoodie himself around your waist then grins in victory at your dumbfounded face?

“Let’s go?” he says with a cheeky smile that you can’t help but mirror.

“This time, I’m paying,” you remind him sternly, pretending like his move didn’t startle you in the most pleasant way possible.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he answers with a nonchalant wave, leading you to where the festival is. You jog a little to catch up with him, pretending to be annoyed about how inconsiderate he is with his long steps. Mingyu simply lets out a hearty laugh at this, and then reaches out his hand for you to take so you ‘can follow my steps without getting left behind’. You almost blush at the gesture, but quickly regain composure as you snicker and slap his hand away instead.

“Is that how you get girls to hold hands with you?” you narrow your eyes playfully.

“I don’t usually try to hold hands with girls,” he sticks out his tongue.

This is a good look on him too, you decide. As much as the sight of him and Gyuri always manages to melt your heart, Mingyu looks his age like this; with playfulness painting his face and the youth within him seeing the sun (moon?) after so long. No matter how obvious that Gyuri is his whole world now, you’re sure there are times when Mingyu misses the time when he can be carefree without thinking about his baby back home.

Thoughts like this would make you wonder about the missing figure in the little family. You never want to pry it out of Mingyu (or anyone, for that matter), but it is true that you’d be curious from time to time. Gyuri is the loveliest kid you’ve ever encountered in your life and Mingyu easily fills in the perfect man category, what could possibly go wrong?

But you’re a new person in the scene, you remind yourself. You haven’t known Mingyu for long and there might be sides of him that you don’t know just yet. There are a lot of other possible scenarios: a child wasn’t in the original plan for them, or the mom might already pass, quite literally leaving Mingyu with Gyuri behind to go to heaven, and so on.

Mingyu’s warm hand suddenly finds yours, and your head snaps up in surprise at the touch. But Mingyu quickly pulls you with him, reasoning that the festival is a little too crowded and he doesn’t want to lose you in the sea of people.

Jennie’s words suddenly echo in your mind as your eyes refuse to stop looking at your joined hands: ‘You don’t have to deny your feelings, alright?’.

And this time, with Mingyu’s hand enveloping yours, you don’t see any reason to pull away when your heart hums in content at the touch and the warmth that waves through your body is pleasant for once.

So you squeeze his hand tighter instead, nervously biting your bottom lip just in case Mingyu pulls away in surprise. He catches your eyes then, and you can see him holding back a grin before he looks forward again and continues to pull you with him through the crowd.

You wish you weren’t imagining the way his hand tightens against yours.

A/N 2: this is for u @wwssi who somehow have predicted i'd be posting this earlier bc i literally have this queued before u sent that ask :p

taglist: @yslshua@penny-quinn@nollixtrml@dnylwoo@itsveronicaxxx@john-and-paul@wheeinz@rjsmochii@w0nuuu@boowanie@n6body@imtotallydef@wwssi@bythe8@cheolright@coupsiekkuma@hoe4wonwoo@kyeomjjigae@jh-fn@clairdelunesstuff@yoongischeeksluv@onlywonforhui@janandbeyond@treasure-hwa@teddy-cheol@tito-jun@projectjuvia@notscoupy@jeonshuawreads@cheoriemoawa@wtfkidult@itsdnguyenxoxo @nothingbutadeadesceane @juli-ssi

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mhynvxii · 2 years

Note

Ok im desperate for a scenario where kise and aomine are in love with a girl who’s way smarter than them so they feel like they’ve got to study more (with her supervision ofc) to get on her level. But she doesn’t really care she just wants someone who will make her laugh. Super specific but honestly I’m just as desperate as you are for new content so I can’t even be embarrassed 😂😅😭.

A/N : Hey ! You’re welcome, in fact I do like better specific ideas ! First request !! Let’s go !! I’m so excited ! (≖͠ ͜ʖ≖)👌

Kise and Aomine falling in love with a smart and cool fem!s/o.

AOMINE DAIKI —

For him to fall in love with one of the smartest person of his class was very unlikely : Smart students were always knowns to be hard workers and very serious persons when here is with his super lazy ass, sleeping all day and thinking about maybe everything but school. He would never frequent one by their intrinsic incompatibility because they would be getting on each other nerves.

But recently he had been proven wrong, there was that girl in his class, very pretty, very lovely he had been crushing on : you.

He didn’t know you were a top student at first, having a sit near the back of the class not far from him. You would sometimes chat with a classmate just behind and he would overhears some interesting things when he was probably half asleep. Topics were for the least original and kind of funny and you would have that smile on your face, that playful look and naturally charming aura. If he was more of a friendly person he wouldn’t have hesitated befriending you but he wasn’t and here you were only sharing that classmate connection. Then he found out, when every time you would receive your grade of the previous test, your friends and others smarts head of the class would gather around and congratulate you .

« I can’t believe it, this genius talent at this point. It was a surprise test..!»

How to say he was slightly embarrassed at this moment ? He had fallen hard for a nerd for some reason he can’t understand and even if it was like during half a second he thought that you wouldn’t be dumb enough to even be thinking about going out with him : the guy already failing class even tough y’all are freshman. People like you were worried about their future, organizing everything so nothing could escape their control and all that reassurance and intellectual sucess guarantee he was unable to provide.

Thankfully, Aomine was bold and didn’t give it second thoughts : ok you’re way smarter than him but he could try to be good enough to reach a decent level right ? If he reach a decent intelligence level and grades for someone like you, you won’t perceive him like a complete jock and in best case scenario you would even be impressed by him ?

Ok best case scenario can be forgotten.

But from this realization that someone as smart as you would except their partner to meet certain standards, Aomine started to work on his grades and education. Very slowly cause school really wasn’t something he enjoyed and it was hard to gather motivation but he did makes somes efforts in the name of his pride with the help of Momoi and his Toou teammates. Ok he had to cheat once in a while and Momoi and Sakurai have done most of his homeworks… but now he wasn’t the worst student anymore and he could try to compare his test with yours like many people do to get to know how he should improve. Aomine was new with this kind of stuff so he didn’t even knew how to take exemple on your work to improve his test he just did know watching them that your work was inherently better than his and from far but how was he supposed to do like you ? Complete mystery.

« …I don’t get it. You’re telling me that is what the teacher is excepting me to do ? »

« Yeah… ? I mean from the grade I got probably. » you said surprised by his new behavior.

« … Better dig my grave from now I guess, I don’t have the brain for that, maybe… you would help me with this stuff please ? »

He didn’t believe how he almost stuttered asking this simple question but Aomine didn’t care, all his attention on you even if he was pretending to be nonchalant.

« Sure i can ! But what is your objective… I thought great basketball players like you just had to pass ? This grade you got is good enough..»

That smile of yours goes directly on his soft spot, making him melt on the moment : why was he so down bad ? It was so disturbing that he gave him an headache.

« I just want to see if I am capable to compete with someone like you on a scholar field, that’s all. I got bored of playing dumb and doing nothing meanwhile somes gets all the fame.»

« Oh, I see badmouthing my scholar success,hm ? I like the agressive approach but mister there is some few things I must tell you : One, Why would I help you as my rival ? Two, I believe there is a misunderstanding : You may believe that I am a know-it-all always having her nose in a book but like you I do not really am enamored with school you see, soo…. »

« You do not need keep this facade with me miss top student, i know you’re trembling at the idea of missing a day of school you can be honest with me you know, just between us. »

You can’t help but hold your stomach hearing him say that, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut because of the laugh he was giving you. You didn’t thought he was partially serious when saying that.

« Come on..! You know what, I will help you just because you’re saying all this stuff about me and you’ll see I am very chill and not that… school obsessed freak you imagine ? »

« Bet. »

And from this day you started tutoring Aomine and got to know him better. You became what you can call great friends, getting to know Momoi and the basketball club members but aside from this new friendship, Aomine for some reasons always tried to impress you by the positive evolution of his grades. Sometimes he was blablantly bragging what is really a signature behavior of his but also « subtly » from his standard, he would let glimpse little infos about his scores or ask for unnecessary supervision as if he has something to prove you but it only pushed you to avoid scholarship topics with him what didn’t make him feel good.

From Aomine perspective it meant that despite his effort you wouldn’t see him as a potential partner as his intellect wasn’t enough for you to share conversations of this type with him. He was damned to be that chaotic and dumb friend what is really embarrassing as he really tried to correct himself. Yes he did cheat during tests, asked Momoi to do his homework for him and all but he really tried to absorb more cultural knowledge and all to keep up with you even if it didn’t pleases him and that the stuff he learned was boring. What a fool, really. All of that ruckus to learn that it has never been necessary.

« If there is one school freak it’s definitely you Aomine, I can’t believe you had the audacity to call me this in the past… Why are you so focused on your scores ? You don’t want to do long upper studdies and this is not funny competing with you like this.»

He has been avoiding you all day just to hide his bad score in history class.

« What does it take to impress someone like you ? I am trying for shit know how long time just for all of this not working ? »

« Why would you impress me in the first place ? And it only takes somes candies to get me on your good side you know? I thought it was like an obvious weakness of mine.. what’s wrong ? »

You were always making jokes, always trying to have a good time what he did really loved about you making him fell harder for but he somehow never thought that like him you would rather date a funny person than the smart one.

«…Ugh this embarrassing to say but… do I care at this point ? I have no clue and it’s been a while now… I am in love with you dumb ass and I’ve been trying to impress you by being the intelligent guy a girl like you would want… but turn out I was too dumb to even realize it wasn’t your taste.»

« …I confirm you’re a complete dummy.»

To the point of even failing to realize you did have feelings for him as well and that his kind is totally your type.

« I know thanks. »

« And despite the lack of romanticism of this situation let me say something … I don’t care about school, I don’t care about being perfect, I just want to share a good time with the ones I loves what does includes you so please never again… try to be someone else. »

Laying on the floor of the rooftop, Aomine did stand up immediately after hearing you say the magical words.

« I love you. »

And he couldn’t help himself but smile and laugh sarcasticly at his own stupidity. He was mad at himself yes, but satisfied by your response all his negative feelings vanished and he got closer to you, intertwining his fingers with yours as his nose caress your skin.

« I hate you. »

KISE RYOUTA —

He always knew about you being one of the smartest student of his class, this is in fact what exactly distinguished you of others and made him memorizing your name. Because you were very intelligent he admired how unlike him you do not have to worry about failing class and how you would always have an interesting perspective and responses to professors. Honestly he was even jealous, because his perfect copy can’t allow him to assimilate intellectual knowledge if not passing trough the phase of a physical movement but he was satisfied with the plenty of talents he already had… or at least until now.

He observed you, trying to take example but during his observation stage he couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of your face. He failed to follow your methods being absorbed by the way your body would express everything you feel yet your sharp eye would analyze your surroundings, making you mysterious. He fell for that malicious smile you would have every time you would be making a sarcastic comments and your voice so endearing, so agreable to hear everytime it could be heard, not missing to make him shiver. The way you speak when you would be chatting or answering a question so magneficient even made you look somehow intimidating to him… He had the chance to find a beautiful rose in his class.

You seduced him so badly by doing barely nothing that he’s now convinced the type of girl you are has always been his first go to. So embarrassing.

He did not knew you well but Kise assumed that such a charming person like you would have high criteria when it would come about a potential boyfriend, as you should. Making him thinking twice before approaching you : He needed to get better grades and more to him than his popularity and social status. Someone so knowledgeable wouldn’t care for all of that and would only appreciate the company of someone able to keep up with them so in order to fit this ideal he needed to be educated.

But how ? Maybe… He could try to hit two rocks with one by asking you to tutor him. It was well known that he wasn’t a very brilliant student so he didn’t had time to be ashamed of it and he even did use this in fact to get your special tutoring as an excuse. His case being so desesperate he said dramatically that only the best could possibly help him, so you.

The blond didn’t try to use his pretty face for you to fall for him despite it being an argument quite useful usually but his flirty nature couldn’t be hidden, his natural revealing himself from time to time, thankfully you wouldn’t even mind it. Even enjoying it even if he wasn’t after his own thoughts worthy of pretending your heart yet.

You would be joking with him, having together that unique chemistry pushing him to rethink about a lot of things he assumed about you at first. You managed to appear more perfect in his eyes but now in a more realistic way, seeing clearly your flaws and qualities, that true funny self of yours sold his heart to you forever.

And man, it was so dangerous knowingly he was already so in love with you, so down bad he dreamt of him and you going trough all yours firsts : kiss, date, anniversary and more… You two getting married and encountering each other’s families… Ok maybe he was already too far in his imagination but he wasn’t capable to restrain these crazy feelings messing up his sleep schedule, basketball trainings and whole body system.

He had to try his shot, even if it may seem he was being impatient right now his plan not even being near to be accomplished but how could he hold longer not even being sure you were into serious guy..? He can’t keep going like this if he has like no chance of seducing you.

He bites his lower lips a brief moment and rise his chin up, his eyes looking frankly in yours.

« Y/n i know it’s a question coming from nowhere when we’re having this little study session but… What is the type of guy you would be interested in ? »

You barely kept your composure, making the pen you had fun playing with fall. Why would he be asking you that seriously, so honestly, so direct..

« Uh… Yeah very sudden… perhaps this chemistry equation inspired you ?… But if you really ask, I believe being funny is a must. I don’t care really about others things till he makes me happy. »

His eyes showing obvious shock, Kise was surprised by your response, really the bar was that low ??!

«… Like you’re telling me you won’t mind if this guy is a complete idiot ? »

« Why would I ? Intelligence doesn’t make someone interesting and there is many ways of expressing intelligence. »

You started ranting about what did you found interesting in a person, having thought about it a lot recently. In your thoughts, you were saying all you were thinking was pertinent to the subject with no filter even things who should be kept for yourself by accident.

«… Plus you’re someone I really like talking with and there isn’t a day i’m bored with you, till I am happy… I really can’t imagine there is better standards. »

Did you just set yourself up right now ? Like horrendously ? Confusion took all over Kise facial expressions while you started to make yourself very little.

«… Y/n-cchi why did you said you..?? Do you mean you like… ME ?! »

« …I really said you..? »

« YEAH YOU SAID YOU ?! SO ME ? »

You can’t helps but put your palm on your face, upset with that stupidity and clumsyness of yours.

« Ugh… Ok so I know it’s ridiculous but it has been a moment I got this crush on you.. »

« Wait, wait ! So I am your type ??? I love you and you love me ???! »

« YOU LOVE ME ??! »

You almost jumped of your seat.

« YEAH LIKE FROM THE START I HAD THAT HUGE CRUSH ON YOU !! »

« NO SWEAR IT, YOU’RE TELLING ME THIS RIGHT NOW ? »

Is it a comedy ? Kise brain was doing backflips and sweats started to roll down his spine.

« COM’ON I THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS ! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO LOOK SMART SINCE A MOMENT NOW ITS RIDICULOUS JUST TO CATCH YOUR INTEREST !»

« NO WAY… YOU’RE LYIN’!! »

You barely did remember to breath for a moment, gripping your shirt at the place your heart beats so strongly that it’s echoing in all your being. You feel every inches of your skin warming up, your blood circulating quicker. You can’t turn your eyes off him as well that he’s staring at you, shocked.

Both of you thinking you weren’t playing in each other’s leagues.

Kise cheeks were completely red and flustered he was playing with his hair.

« I’m sorry this declaration was completely unromantic… I never excepted this to happen but now that it’s clear I am your type… »

You recognized that bright smile.

« What do you think about dating the guy of your dream ? »

You can’t help but let out a chuckle, his pick up line being… atrocious and cliché. Stress probably messing up with his senses.

« Hahaha… Seriously, I mean I love you Y/n-cchi, please marry- Eh !!??! I said… Please let me take you on a date ! »

« Maybe in fact I do really like my mens dumb… »

Satisfaction took all over you when you saw Kise adorable pout.

« Just kiss me already dummy. » you said tiring his tie so he gets closer.

The blonde not even thinking twice smile again, butterflies flying aggressively in his stomach.

« So it’s a yes ? »

And dispose delicately his lips on yours, closing his eyes to enjoy this instant, he can’t restrain that smile of his during this kiss at the beginning but gain in seriousness with time and passionately after few languorous seconds introduce his tongue to your mouth.

You love him too.

#kise ryouta #aomine daiki #knb #kuroko no basket #knb scenarios #kise x reader #aomine x reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I know of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still friends with them?”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

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

“You like me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, I’m in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Is that even a question?!

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

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

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

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

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

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

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

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

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

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

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

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

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

“Harry! Please!”

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

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

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

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

“Mm, good idea.”

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

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

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

“I’ve just been thinking.”

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

“About what you said about your parents.”

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

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

“There’s a reason for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what if they don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

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

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

And then there’s the absolute worst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you end the call.

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

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

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

“Halo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

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

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

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

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

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

Hi Taylor!

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

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

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

“He… pulled out for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#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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deliriousgeek · 3 years

Text

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: A quiet evening meant for celebration is thrown into chaos. Y/n wills herself to play into the daunting role that comes with being Thomas Shelby’s wife, because it might be the only thing keeping her alive.

Masterlist

Tommy lowkey feels very oc so idk how to feel about that. im not good at writing suspense...its also very long. ha :,)

Warning: blood, guns, knives, fights, usual peaky blinder violence

If anyone knew Y/n Shelby, then they would know that she can’t stand seeing dead bodies. Although in her case, having that reaction would seem ironic, considering her husband was Thomas Shelby.

It was around 9pm when Y/n slipped her night robe off and lay back on her bed. Her night was just winding down and she was waiting for Thomas to get back. He said he would try to be home around midnight, and to not wait up. He and his brothers would be at the Garrison, celebrating Arthur’s return from prison and discussing what was to be done with the Jews and Italians next.

Y/n knew it would be a couple hours for Tommy to be home, so she settled onto their bed and grabbed a book off her night stand.

The room was bathed in a warm, orange and yellow light— the type of light candles can give. When she was home alone, Y/n liked to use candle light. It reminded her of a time before the war and before this gang business, when all she and Tommy had to worry about was getting enough candles to light up the dinner table.

Half an hour had passed and Y/n had gotten through a decent number of pages in her book. She felt her eyes drooping and decided it was time to call it a night. She stretched and cracked her neck before turning to place her book on the nightstand. Just as she was about to place the book down, she heard a creak downstairs.

She froze.

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be back until midnight and none of the Shelby family would come over this late without a call, that was their safety protocol.

She listened for more creaking.

After Tommy had bought their house he had insisted on replacing the creaky floor boards, but decided to keep a few. In certain spots, that could be easily avoided if one knew where to walk, the floor would still creak. It was a safety thing that Tommy and Y/n agreed would be good to have. If the floorboards downstairs still creaked after the first step, it wasn’t one of them.

Creak...creak...creak...

That wasn’t Tommy.

Y/n took in a deep breath as she put herself back into a sitting position on the bed. An intruder was in her house. At the moment, the Peaky Blinders had a lot of enemies. It could be anyone. Mostly, someone with a gun.

She listened as the person made their way upstairs. She could hear them passing Tommy’s office, and the guest bedroom. This person knew where their room was, and she could only deduce from their movement’s that they were coming for her.

Y/n was scared. She knew how to defend herself, but didn’t like doing it if she didn’t have to. Rolling her shoulders, she prepared herself for the inevitable. She’d have to fight tonight.

To be clear, Y/n Shelby wasn’t unable to fight. She was a pro at throwing knives, which she preferred to guns; much to Tommy’s dismay. She knew how to shoot a gun and could decently fare in hand to hand combat, but she was still scared. Her heart beat in her chest quickly and anxiety bubbled to the surface. A normal reaction to knowing someone broke into your house to hurt you, or worse. Y/n assumed it was the latter. However, instead of letting her fear show, she turned on her fake calmness. A trick she forced herself to learn as Thomas Shelby’s wife. The alarm that was spread across her face vanished, instead being replaced with an eerily calm facade.

There was no point in locking the door. The person knew how to get past those if he made it into their living room. She heard their steps stop at the front of her door, she raised her book to her face, pretending like she was reading.

Act calm. She told herself.

Then, the door burst open.

Back at the pub, the Shelby brothers were sitting around the table in the snug. Sharing laughs and taking on their third round of Whiskey.

“Alright boys,” Tommy began, placing his glass down and looking around the table. “We’ve had our fun, business begins now.” His content expression turned serious.

His other brothers, and cousin Michael, cleared their throats and straightened up.

“As you know, taking Arthur out of prison is a direct threat to the Sabini’s. It shows that even in London we have enough influence to get our own men out, if needed.”

The brothers nodded, and shared looks.

Tommy continued, “Getting Arthur out was our first move. Now it’s the Italian’s and the Jew’s turn but we don’t know when their next strike will be. So, from this moment on we have to be aware, alert, and ready for every—”

The door flew open.

Sir!” Out of breath, Isaiah stood with one hand on the door knob, looking at Tommy.

“Oi!” Arthur shouted. “You know better than to interrupt!”

Tommy nodded his head at Arthur, then turned to Isaiah. “What is it, lad.”

“Better be important,” John added.

“Sir, the Italians are here. My dad spotted them making their way down the lane. They got a group with guns and a car. We best hurry.” Isaiah said in a rushed voice.

With that all the Shelby men stood and placed their caps on, rushing out of the snug.

Upon noticing the urgency in which the brothers exited, the rest of the Peaky Blinders in the pub were at full alert, waiting for Tom’s next words. The crowd silenced as the brothers stood at the snug doors, facing the onlookers.

“If you aren’t a Peaky Blinder,” Tom eyed the crowd, “leave.”

Noise filled the bar again as chairs shuffled, cups were placed on tables, and the front doors opened and closed.

Tom didn’t speak again until there were only Peaky Blinders left. He pulled out his revolver and checked it, making sure there were bullets, before looking up again.

“Battle formation, men. The Italians are here.”

Then in a flurry of peaky hats and over coats, the rest of the men got into their positions. Some ran up the stairs to get the extra cases of shotguns and revolvers. Others pulled out their own handguns and checked them as well. The Shelby boys looked at each other, a silent way of saying ‘good luck’.

Once Tommy deemed every one armed, he nodded to Arthur, who shouted to move out.

The Shelbies were at the front, while everyone fell behind them in triangle formation. As they marched outside, they could see the group of Italians rounding the corner.

It was rather intimidating. An outline of men and guns on shoulders, a rather sizable group at that, illuminated by the truck headlights that followed behind. It was a sight to see.

Darby Sabini stood at the front, a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

As the groups marched towards each other and came to a stop, a man behind Thomas called out to the front. “At your command Sergeant Major.”

A hushed tone of agreement spread throughout the group.

Darby stepped forward. “Thought you could come on our turf and get away with it, aye?”

Tommy stepped forward as well, hands in his pockets. “It was meant as a friendly gesture, but I don’t think you have enough friends to know what that means.”

A small smirk made its way onto Tommy’s face as he stared Darby down.

Darby narrowed his eyes, irritated at that remark. “I’ll show you what friendly means. Now!”

A hail of gunfire began and the sound of shots being fired filled the lane. It was chaos. Bullets flew and body’s fell. Punches were thrown and blood was spread. More men jumped out of the covered truck and ran to beat down the men on the other side.

Tommy ducked and punched, kicked and shot. In the middle of punching a man in the gut he yelled, “Leave Darby for me!”

His men did just that.

Thomas fought his way to the center of the fight, where Darby had just knocked out a Peaky Blinder. Tommy aimed his gun and walked forward, aiming at Darby. The fighting on both sides ceased.

“I didn’t bring a battalion to your town.” Tommy spoke clearly, in a raised voice.

Darby aimed his gun as well. The two circled each other as men on both sides stopped to observe the interaction. They watched Tommy and Darby tread carefully, like two tentative predators waiting for their opposer to falter.

“You still showed up. That was enough.”

The two men were breathing heavily, a result from the brawls they just finished.

“What’s your purpose for being here, Sabini?” Thomas stopped pacing, his gun still firmly held up.

Darby stopped as well. An obnoxious laugh left his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Tommy didn’t move. He held a blank face, but his eyes still watched Darby with intensity.

Not waiting for a response Darby continued, “I’m reminding you that I can take away everything you have in an instant. I already put your brother in jail, which it seems wasn’t a good enough warning for you, since you stupidly had him released so quickly.”

Darby took a couple steps toward Thomas, gun raised.

“Killing me won’t do anything. I got people in place to still ruin you.” Thomas stated, his tone flat.

Darby lowered his gun, a sickly calm smile spread across his face. It was an unsettling sight that made Tommy begin to think something was off.

“Oh Tommy boy, I’m just the distraction,” Darby’s eyes noticeably darkened, “How’s your wife these days?”

Tommy’s eyes widened and his finger pulled the trigger.

Darby fell to the ground dead, a bullet was lodged in the center of his forehead.

Then like a wave, the fighting began again.

As soon as the gunshot rang, Tommy saw red. He shot, punched, kicked or swung at anyone in his way as he fought to get out of the crowd. He didn’t bother shouting an explanation to his brothers as he ran to his car.

Tommy shoved his keys into the ignition and started the car. Tommy slammed his foot on the gas as soon as the engine roared to life. The car’s lights illuminated the carnage left from the battle. The Peaky Blinders were the last ones standing, as Tommy expected, but paid no mind to. His thoughts too consumed with conjuring the hundreds of horrible possibilities he might see upon arriving home, all ending with a bloodied image of Y/n.

John and Arthur ran towards the car, causing Thomas to slam on the breaks.

“Where are you going?” John asked urgently.

“They’re going for Y/n.” Thomas hastily replied.

John and Arthur jumped on the side of the car just in time before Tommy could speed up again.

Michael and Finn watched as the older Shelby boys passed them.

“Great. So we’re left to clean up the mess.”

At the house, Y/n held her book to her face as the door burst open. She turned her head and was met with the sight of a man pointing a gun at her. His clothes were clean and he looked very young. Her eyes flitted from the gun to his shoes, then to his eyes, then back to the gun.

“On your feet.” He demanded.

“What?” Y/n feigned innocence, despite her struggle to keep calm.

The man, gun still held towards her, trudged over and ripped the book from her hands, throwing it onto the floor.

“I said on your feet!” He yelled in her face, backing away so he was a few feet from the bed.

She stared into his eyes, an impassive look on her face. Y/n looked back down at the gun.

With a purse of her lips and a shrug she stated, “I’d rather not.”

The man’s soldier esc demeanor nearly slipped at her blatant defiance of his orders. “It’s not an option lady! Get up.”

She chuckled. “Y’see, lad. I’ve been on my feet all day. Have you ever worn heels for over six hours? Rather painful you know.”

Her cocky attitude betrayed her quickly beating heart that was full of adrenaline.

In an effort to scare her, he menacingly stepped forward. “I ain’t afraid to hurt you lady, but the boss wants you alive. If you keep disobeying me, I'm allowed to use force.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh really, and who is your boss? I must thank him for not wanting me dead.”

She knew she was playing with her life, but if this boy was as inexperienced as he looked, she would get the information she needed to warn Tommy. Granted, if she got out of this situation.

“Sabini.” The man bluntly answered.

Y/n swallowed. This wasn’t good. If Sabini’s men were here and not in London, she needed to warn Thomas immediately. Her heart pumped faster than she thought possible and every nerve in her body was on the verge of trembling from fear.

“I see.” Y/n turned her head to the foot of the bed. “Well, like I said, I’d rather not get up. Matter of fact, I’d rather keep reading. So be a dear and hand me my book, would ya?” She was stalling.

“C’mon lady, stop being stubborn. You don't even got a weapon to be making these demands.” The man sneered.

Y/n slowly adjusted herself so that she scooted away from the pillows that propped her up. She straightened her legs on the bed, her left crossed over her right. Then she leaned back on her arms, purposely pushing up her chest to show off her unbinded chest. Hopefully, he’d be dumb enough to look at her distraction, and he was.

“Ah, well. It was worth a shot. I can tell that you're new to this whole— kidnapping thing. If you want to get better at it then you should learn this.” She paused before looking back at the man, “Always do research on your target.”

The young man’s brows furrowed, obviously confused.

“If you did your research, like a good little gangster,” She began as she slid her left leg up off her right, causing her silk nightgown to slowly expose her leg. The man’s eyes roamed her leg once she stopped moving, leaving her left leg in a bent position. She reached for the hem of the dress and raised it further up her left leg, stopping until it got to her mid thigh, “Then you would know, that I’m always armed.”

In a swift and well practiced motion, Y/n grabbed the sharp, throwing knife from her thigh holster, and threw. The knife landed in the man’s chest, in his heart. Looking down at the knife, the man stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling onto his back. Blood quickly formed a growing splotch of red on his shirt. Y/n quickly stood from the bed to remove the gun from the man’s hand, she then crouched over him.

She placed her hand on the knife handle, “It was a shame you didn’t do your research.” Then she pushed the knife forward, until she felt through the blade that it had really punctured his heart.

Y/n stood over the man’s body, gun in her hand, and watched the blood puddle grow. She backed away until her knees hit the bed and gave way. Letting out a shaky breath, she sat with the gun in her lap. In an attempt to avoid looking at the body laid in front of her, Y/n stared at the ceiling.

The adrenaline began to wear off, and the reality of the situation dawned on her. She could have died, quite easily too. If her attacker had not been so inexperienced and if she wasn’t wanted brought back alive, she could have died. Then, she thought of her husband.

Tommy.

Had the man lying dead on her carpet opened the door and shot, Tommy would have had to come home to her dead body instead. The thought of Tommy finding her body, cold and bloody, scared her more than death. She couldn’t imagine the pain of him being alone. He would blame himself for her death. He would say he couldn’t protect her, and he would loathe himself for the rest of his life. Tears began to prick her eyes and her throat tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away and for her erratic heart beat to calm down.

She killed a man.

That’s the only thought she could process. Her emotions muddled her thinking. Never before had she used her knives to kill. She used guns, from far away. She used punches to knock people out. She used her knives to injure, but never before had she needed them to kill. She was slightly glad for the memory of Tommy coming back home from an errand, returning with the thin knife holster that he insisted she wear when he wasn’t home. She was also glad that she made it a rule for herself to never take it off unless Tommy was home with her.

Then, the silence of the house was broken again. She flinched. This time, the sound came from the front door slamming open and muffled shouts that she could only register as her name.

“Y/n! Y/n where are you?” The voice shouted.

She couldn’t pinpoint who it was, not in her boggled state of mind, but she knew it was safe. So she answered.

“In the bedroom.”

Her eyes were still shut and her head faced the ceiling when Tommy rushed in.

“Y/n.” His voice was slightly breathless as he took in the sight before him.

The room was covered in warm, candle light, giving a complete opposite tone to the tense atmosphere. His wife sat on the bed with a gun in her lap. A man, with his wife’s knife in his chest, laid dead on the ground and a puddle of blood surrounded his wound.

Y/n opened her eyes and looked at her husband. She could see the fear and worry that filled his eyes, his face in slight shock.

Thomas was relieved to see his wife unharmed, but he could see the tears that were threatening to fall. Her slumped shoulders were signs of exhaustion. The way her chest moved up and down with heavy breathes told him she was on the verge of holding herself together.

Arthur and John came bounding up the stairs next, and found their places on either side of Thomas.

Y/n’s voice came out void of emotion, but her teary eyes said it all. “One of Sabini’s men.” She stated before turning her eyes to the ceiling once more, trying to blink away tears. “Please get him out of my sight.” The growing puddle of blood made her want to throw up.

“You heard her,” Thomas said in a low tone, staring at his wife with concerned eyes. “Get rid of ‘em.” His voice was just above a whisper.

Arthur and John stepped forward, grabbing the man by his arms and lugged him out of the room. Only once the man had been removed did Thomas walk towards his wife. Only when he wrapped his arms around her did she let herself cry. She let herself sob and express how truly scared she was when the man burst into her room, and pointed a gun to her head.

Thomas held her close and kissed her head. He whispered in her ear that she was okay, and that she did what she needed to do. Holding her close, he told her he loved her, and promised to never let anything like that happen to her again.

Masterlist

well I tried

Edit: Bro this blew up in less than a day with 41 notes. Thank you♡

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x wife reader #thomas shelby x wife reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby wife imagine #thomas shelby x hurt reader #thomas shelby x reader protect #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby wife imagine

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somnambulants · 3 years

Note

Can i request readerxnatasha first time? All good if you don't write smut though xx

she’s the sunset in the west

word count: 1.7K notes: i kinda combined this with another prompt: "intertwining your hands with your lover while making love" bc im feeling v soft today lmao hope you enjoy! warnings: allusions to lack of bodily autonomy/coerced interactions.

minors pls don’t interact! 18+ only!

Sex has always been a weapon for her.

Natasha knows she can get whatever she wants from whoever she wants if she just flaunts herself in front of them enough to get their attention. She’s not naïve; her whole life has been set up for her to use her body to get what she wants.

It’s something they teach you in the red room from the time you can walk: your body is your biggest weapon. No one will anticipate you coming.

And it’s true.

No one ever sees her coming.

Natasha has walked into many rooms and turned many heads and managed to take out multiple targets with all eyes on her and without anyone batting those eyes because they were so distracted by her.

It’s where the term black widow comes from. You see her but you don’t see her.

And that’s how she lives her life, with people seeing her but not seeing her. It’s what makes her such a good spy; such a good assassin. People might know she’s dangerous from the second they see her but they’ll be dead and she’ll be long gone before they realise exactly just how dangerous.

No one seems to see through it.

Until she meets you.

You, who met her while she was half naked and soaking wet, everything on display, after a mission had gone slightly wrong and didn’t even blink twice as you shrugged off your own jacket and handed it to her with a kind smile while some of her own teammates struggled to keep their eyes to themselves.

She’s pretty sure she fell in love with you right then and there, with your eyes on the ground, pointedly averted, a faint pink flush staining both of your cheeks and crawling down your neck.

Your relationship with Natasha is great. Amazing, in fact. You don’t think you could ask for better or more.

There’s just one thing really.

Sometimes you don’t feel like she’s really there when you’re being intimate. In the moment. Sometimes it’s as though she’s going through the motions and just doing what she feels needs to be done. Or what she thinks you want her to do.

Like right now.

She’s kissing you like she’s on autopilot. You love kissing her and you’re enjoying it, no doubt about that, as you sit splayed across her lap with her arms around you like a cage.

You love it. And her.

It just doesn’t feel quite right.

You know, subconsciously, there must be a reason you’ve been dating for all these months and haven’t had sex yet. You know Natasha has had a lot of sex and you’re not exactly inexperienced yourself in that department.

And yet, every time you get close, she’ll suddenly push you away and make an excuse to leave.

You know there must be a reason. You just don’t know why or how to broach the subject with her.

Or you thought you didn’t.

“Why don’t you want to have sex?”

You don’t mean for it to slip out and you cover your mouth as soon as it does, but the damage is already done.

Below you, Natasha, hands still on your waist – at a perfectly decent height, as though she thinks your parents might walk in and catch you at any second – freezes and looks at you with wide eyes.

“I – I do,” she says after a second, stuttering a little over her words. It would be amusing in any other circumstance to see Natasha Romanoff, the most unflappable person you’ve ever met in your life, struggling for words.

You stare at her until she swallows and looks away from you. “I do,” she repeats, quiet in a way that is distinctly non-Natasha like. “I’m just not used to this.”

It doesn’t make sense to you, what she’s saying but you stay quiet, sensing she’s building up to something and not wanting to interrupt her when it seems like she’s opening up to you about something important.

“I don’t know how to do …,” she waves a hand in between you wordlessly. You know you must look as confused as you feel because she lets out a huff of frustration. “I don’t know. This –It’s hard. For me. To do this with someone I care about.”

She looks so defeated as the words leave her mouth. You suck in a breath as realisation starts to sink in, feeling nauseous at the implication you’re getting from what she’s just said.

“We don’t have to do anything, Nat, ” you say quietly, tilting your head so she has to look at you as you speak. “Not now. Not ever…. if that’s not something you want. I’m sorry if I --”

“No! No!” she interrupts. She seems to have pinpointed where your thoughts have gone and she leans in, looking at you seriously. “No. Of course I want to. I just don’t know how…I’m used to..”

She doesn’t have to finish. You know exactly what she means and for a second, you’re overcome with such vibrant anger at the thought that no one has ever treated her the way she deserves.

You want to make sure she never feels like that again.

“Okay,” you say slowly, as a plan formulates in your head. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to do but Natasha is looking at you uncertainly, like she thinks you’re going to up and run at any minute so you have to act fast. “Okay, if you’re sure. Can I try something? Please?”

Still looking uncertain, Natasha nods straight away. You lean in to kiss her gently and she immediately reciprocates, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as though you’ll pull away at any moment.

After you break the kiss, you slide off her lap and then off the couch all together, kneeling down so you’re in front of her.

There’s confusion in her eyes as you do but you don’t address it until you’re settled.

You place your hands on her thighs. “Tell me to stop, okay?” The if you’re uncomfortable goes unsaid but you know she must be able to see it written across your face because she nods, biting her lip.

Hands still on her thighs, you kiss every spot you can reach and are delighted as she lets out a little laugh.

Encouraged, you continue until you reach her thighs.

Watching her carefully, you shift, helping her out of her underwear and pulling it down her legs. As you do, she looks back at you evenly, a little smile now playing around the corners of her mouth.

Internally, you breathe a sigh of relief. This was the right move then. You’re sure of it now.

This is the most relaxed you’ve seen her like this, you think. You hate that you hadn’t noticed any of this earlier.

But at least, you can do your best from now on by knowing what to look for.

You move your hands, and seeming to read your mind, she meets you in the middle, letting you intertwine your fingers on either side of her thighs as you rest your head on her stomach, watching her for any signs that she isn’t as comfortable with this as she seems. “Okay?”

You can’t see anything in her eyes to indicate it isn’t but still, you wait until she nods, giving you the green light.

“Yeah,” she says, as you lean back down. Her hips buck a little at the first touch of your tongue against her and she lets out a little breath, biting her lip as she looks at you with darkened eyes: “Yes.”

You continue, encouraged by her little moans and sounds that she makes no attempt to stifle, wasting little time detaching one of your hands to press a finger into her and inhaling sharply as you feel how wet she is around you.

Your actions are rewarded with a moan that quicky turns into a high-pitched gasp as you add another finger quickly after.

You thrust into her, picking up speed as she moans, shoving her hips onto your fingers eagerly in a plaintive request for more. She gets louder as you add a third and you feel her stretch around you. Louder still, when you brush over her clit with your thumb.

“Okay?” you ask again, a little teasingly. No doubt hearing it, she glares down at you but can’t quite hide the smile on her face, pushing her hips up to meet your fingers.

The smile quickly crumbles in favor of a small cry as you thrust into her harder. Her eyes flutter a little and she bites down on her lower lip. “So okay.”

With your fingers now inside her, you turn your attention to her clit, laving your tongue with it and trying not to grin when she cries out, squeezing you so tightly it’s hard for you to keep going at the pace you are.

She squeezes your hand, digging her nails into your skin as her thighs lock around your head and keep you in place.

In response, you double your efforts and are rewarded as she starts to fall apart above you.

There’s blissful white noise in your head as she arches her back with a moan – filthier and louder than the rest, as she comes -- cutting off your air supply entirely to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if you blacked out.

You wouldn’t mind. In fact, you think this would be the best possible way to go.

When she finally releases you, you stay where you are, ignoring the cramp in your legs and rest your head on her stomach again, gazing up at her as she comes down, still twitching occasionally.

She runs her free hand through your hair rhythmically as her chest rises and falls, trying to catch her breath.

She looks like, for lack of better words, a mess. Hair sticking to her neck, cheeks flushed. She’s still wearing her bra, but the straps are now falling down, off her shoulders.

You think you probably don’t look any better yourself.

She’s so beautiful you think you could stare at her for the rest of your life and not get bored.

You squeeze the hand you’re still holding and her eyes flutter open, meeting yours immediately. “All good?” you ask softly.

She lets out an incredulous sounding little huff, pulling you up so you’re in her lap and she can kiss you.

You moan as she licks the taste of herself off your lips.

“Very much good,” she says, playfully, when you pull apart to breathe for a second.

She kisses you again, deeper and more intensely before shoving you away and reversing your positions. “Your turn.”

#natasha romanoff x reader

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ 10 things i know about you ❞ l.jn

synopsis → there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

request → “if you're still accepting requests, can u make a domestic roommate!jeno? 🥺🥺 thank you and have a nice dayyy”

word count → 7.1k (bruhhh)

sharing an apartment with lee jeno isn’t ideal.

it’s not that he’s a lousy roommate or that you disliked him in any way; you just didn’t know him. you had first met through a mutual friend. they knew jeno was looking for someone to split rent with and that you happened to need a place to stay. they promised you he would give you privacy and assured jeno you were excellent roommate material. with that, arrangements were made and soon enough you moved in together. of course, it was a bit awkward at first but you two eventually got used to each other’s presence. although you were never in the same room for too long and oftentimes went days without speaking, you coexisted.

for a long time, you only knew a couple things about your roommate. for example, you were aware of his strong love for cats, especially his pet calico, seol. you also knew he kept the freezer stocked with pizza rolls that he would use as energy when he stayed up all night playing video games.

what you didn’t know, however, was that you would be spending the next couple months locked in your apartment with him. on top of that, you would begin to learn more things about him—his life, his personality, his feelings.

there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

1. he’s a heavy sleeper.

at 10:28 in the morning you find yourself seated at the dining table in the kitchen, spooning froot loops into your mouth. as you stuff your face, you scroll through your phone for entertainment. you decide to open instagram first but you quickly find that to be a mistake. as soon as you open the app a picture of lucas and who you thought was his ex-girlfriend greets you. if that was bad, the caption hits you like a ton of bricks.

@lucas_xx444: should have never left you

in only five words, lucas has completely erased the months you spent dating. it meant nothing to him. sure, things hadn’t ended things the best way but going right back to his toxic ex and even admitting to missing her—now that was a new low. was this his way of getting back at you? his way of making you hurt just like he had throughout your entire relationship? the thought alone leaves you feeling sick.

you decide you’ve already had enough social media for one morning so you decide to check your messages instead. your friends usually left a couple of them overnight. to your surprise, you find that your main group chat has accumulated 241 messages.

[10:48 am] you: good morning i see u guys have been vry chatty

[10:49 am] yeji: ur finally awake!

[10:50 am] yuna: we thought u died lol

[10:50 am] lia: YUNA

[10:50 am] lia: NO

[10:51 am] ryujin: the timing for that joke could not be worse

[10:52 am] yuna: humor is my coping mechanism leave me alone

[10:52 am] you: ??? what happened

[10:53 am] chaeryeong: we left msgs for a reason dummy read them!!

[10:53 am] you: umm there’s over 200 and im not abouta read all that

[10:54 am] yuna: well then lemme break it down

[10:54 am] yuna: the world is ending :)

[10:55 am] you: welp it was about time

[10:55 am] lia: why r u guys like this

[10:56 am] yeji: there’s been a covid-19 outbreak and it’s spreading like wildfire so the government issued a stay at home order :/

[10:57 am] you: omg WHAT

[10:57 am] ryujin: ikr it’s crazy we literally can’t go anywhere

[10:57 am] chaeryeong: and we can’t get boba today either ;( i was so looking forward to that

[10:58 am] ryujin: let’s pls take a moment of silence for all the current and future boba dates that will have to be cancelled

[10:59 am] yuna: no way am i gonna let some wannabe flu make me go boba-less i’m still going out >:(

[10:59 am] lia: ...ur joking right

[10:59 am] yeji: what color casket do u want yuna?

before the groupchat can distract you any further, you place your phone down on the table. you sit back in your chair and let the newly revealed information sink in.

you were stuck inside.

you sigh before standing to clean your dishes. as you’re scrubbing away at your bowl, you feel something brush against your leg. you smile, not even having to look down to know it was seol. the cat would often wander into your room or sleep next to you when you watched tv on the couch. in fact, you were pretty sure you spent more time with seol than his owner.

you gaze at jeno’s room. as always, the door is shut. you wonder if you should let him know what was happening. you two usually kept your distance but you figured that the circumstance you found yourself in was an exception. you quickly dry your hand and shuffle towards his room.

you knock once, quite softly. you assume he’s asleep so you try again, this time a little harder. still, no avail. the third time you put even more force into it. by this time, seol has found his way beside you and claws at the door.

“jeno?” you knock a fourth time. “jeno! lee jeno!”

after more shouting accompanied by incessant meowing, you hear some muffled movement. moments later the door knob twists open and there stands your roommate with disheveled hair and a robe that had obviously just been thrown on his body. seol has taken the open crack in the door as an invitation inside the bedroom.

jeno blinks a couple times as he watches the feline get himself comfortable on his bed. he turns back to you, looking slightly disoriented. you’re not sure if he’s half asleep or your sudden presence has thrown him for a loop. his voice comes out raspy when he asks, “was he, um, bothering you or something?”

you shake your head, vigorously. “that’s not why i came. it’s just that my friends told me that there’s been some kind of virus outbreak and we’re supposed to stay home. so, i thought i’d let you know.”

his face softens. “oh, cool.” suddenly, the look changes. “not the virus thing! that’s totally not cool. i meant, it’s cool that you let me know and stuff. you just saved me a huge freak out so, uh, thank you.”

you smile and nod. “no problem.”

jeno’s eyes linger as you retreat back into your room down the hall. the sound of his door shutting is heard only once you’re out of his eyesight.

2. he can cook better than you.

most of the time, you would go out to eat dinner with your friends in the evenings or at least stop by a drive thru. obviously, this was no longer possible in the midst of a pandemic. you found that to be incredibly frustrating as you sat on your bed, stomach empty. no matter how badly you wished to fix it, your laziness had gotten the best of you. apart from that, you already knew how unlucky you were when it came to cooking—the memory of burning noodles at lia’s house one night had been permanently seared into your brain.

you almost believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you catch a whiff of pasta in the air. for a moment you think it’s your next door neighbor, taeyong, cooking again. you knew he was quite the chef. but, the smell is getting stronger by the second and you decide it must be in your apartment.

you wander into the kitchen, only to find jeno standing over the stove. he’s stirring red sauce in a pot when he notices you watching him.

“oh, hey,” he greets with a polite wave.

you can only stare at the rest of the kitchen—pots, pans, and ingredients all over the place—in utter awe.

he chuckles, awkwardly. “yeah, sorry about the mess. i’ve been told i’m a decent cook but i can never seem to get the tidiness down.”

“no, it’s not that. this just all seems so... professional.” you sniff the air once more. “smells amazing, too.”

he smiles, sheepishly. “thanks. are you a fan of spaghetti?”

you nod.

“good. i wanted to make something you’d like.”

“you really didn’t have to,” you say, leaning against the fridge. “i mean, i’ve never done anything for you.”

he uncovers a pot to check on the pasta. you watch as hot steam rises out of it. “what about this morning?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that most certainly does not count. you’re making an entire meal. that takes a lot of effort.”

he waves a hand, dismissively. “i used to cook a lot with my old roommate, doyoung. the guy was an asian gordon ramsey, i swear. so, yeah, this is nothing too crazy. and i really do enjoy it.”

“well, i’m still gonna repay you.” you fold your arms.

he looks away from his dish to raise a brow. “is that so?”

you nod in confirmation. “definitely.”

“tell you what, if you wash the mountain of dishes that are gonna be left over, we’ll be even.”

you stare at the sink that’s already overflowing with dirty kitchen tools. that wasn’t even half of it. “uh, sure, sounds good.”

he laughs at hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “that’s the spirit.”

3. he’s allergic to cats.

the familiar sound of soft purring is what pulls you attention away from the movie playing on your laptop. already knowing exactly who it is, you launch yourself off your bed to allow your furry guest inside.

“hey seol. what’ve you been up to?”

the calico meows, almost as if he were responding to your question. you close your door and go back to your original position. you notice seol sitting directly in front of your bed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“come on up.” you pat your sheets, invitingly.

he obeys and stretches before laying down beside you.

“have you ever watched ‘avengers’?” you ask, eyes going back to the explosive fight scene on the screen.

this time, seol doesn’t even bother humoring you with a meow. he stays silent with his head tucked into his paws.

you scratch his head and his tail wiggles. “i’ve gotta stop asking you questions.”

both you and seol’s heads snap towards the door when you hear a knock.

“come in!” you call out.

jeno swings open the door. his eyes briefly scan the room before landing on the furball on your bed. the unmistakable look of adoration shines in his eyes when he sees how lovingly you caress him.

“seol! what are you doing in here? bothering y/n?” the cat jumps off your bed and towards his owner standing in your doorway. jeno scoops him into his arms and faces you. “i’m so sorry. he saw me running a bath for him and bolted.”

“it’s all good. he’s a great movie buddy. besides, i could always use the company.”

jeno curiously glances at your computer screen. “is that ‘avengers’?”

“yep. i’ve seen it like a dozen times.”

“same here.“ he pauses. “hey, if you ever need a movie buddy—like you know, one that talks—just let me know.”

your face lights up. “i’m gonna hold you to that.”

”i hope so. well, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta give this guy a bath.”

seol yowls as if he understands the meaning behind the words and attempts to escape jeno’s grip.

“here we go again,” he mumbles under his breath.

you snicker at the sight. “looks like you could use some help.”

“oh, no. it’s fine. he can just be a little bratty someti—seol!”

in the blink of an eye, the feline has successfully hopped out of his arms and made a run for it.

jeno gives you an exasperated look before rushing off to catch his runway pet. you find yourself caught up in the excitement so you follow him, the two of you now in pursuit of the calico. you’re sure the image of you both chasing the fluffy animal around the apartment looks like something straight out of a comedy. even you and jeno can’t contain your laughter when he finally catches seol only for him to slip out of his hold a second later. this exact situation repeats itself a couple times before you finally get lucky.

“i got him!” you screech. “jeno! oh my god! what do i do?”

“bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!” he chants in response.

you head in that direction with jeno trailing behind you, ready to catch seol if he somehow manages to get out of your death grip. you bend over the bathtub, slowly lowering the cat into the water. it’s clear he doesn’t have a problem with making a fuss as he wails and flails his limbs around.

after a while, he finally calms down enough that you can lather him in shampoo. jeno insists on scrubbing him, arguing that you had already done way too much. you sit back on your heels, observing the way the seol leans into his delicate touches.

“looks like he likes it now.”

“he likes to make a big deal but he ends up enjoying it every—“ jeno cuts himself off with a sneeze.

“tissue?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “that’s okay, thanks. i’m used to it. i’m just surprised my allergies haven’t acted up ‘til now.”

“allergies?” you echo.

“yeah, i’m allergic to—“ another sneeze. “cats.”

your eyes widen. “really? and you still have seol?”

“i could never get rid of him. he’s too good of a boy. isn’t—“ sneeze. “that right?” he tickles seol under his chin.

“wow. you must really love him.”

“so much.”

“he’s lucky to have you.”

“what about you? you get both of us. doesn’t that make you the luckiest?”

you snort. “i guess it does.”

4. he makes a good shopping buddy.

“i have officially cooked everything we have.”

“i can order some takeout, if you want?”

he juts his lower lip out and gives you puppy eyes. “but i like to cook for you.”

you laugh at his expression. “oh god, you look like that one pouty emoji people use when they try to be cute.”

he sits up. “did it work?”

you nod and pinch his cheek.

he yelps. “ah, stop! you’re acting like my grandma!” he manages to get out of your grasp. he rubs his face, soothing the spots you had squeezed. “seriously, though, we really do need to stock up on food.”

“i’ve already been looking into it.” you show him the screen of your phone. “says here you can still go shopping as long as you wear a mask and try to stay six feet away from other shoppers.”

he cringes. “i don’t know if i like the idea of being so close to so many people.”

“i can go by myself, then,” you suggest with a shrug.

he doesn’t hesitate to deny you. “no way are you going alone.” his possessive tone has you staring at him curiously so he adds, “you know, in case you can’t reach something on the top shelf.”

the teasing comment paired with his innocent smile makes you gasp in disbelief. “lee jeno! that’s low! and to think i almost thought you were worried about me.”

“who said i wasn’t?” he smiles at you again before standing up. “i’m going to find us some masks and then we can head out.”

once you arrive at your local grocery store, you find it to be packed. everyone seems to be in a hurry, grabbing things left and right.

“wow, it’s already gotten crazy,” jeno mumbles, stopping to stare at the flood of people that rush by.

you don’t hesitate to scold him. “well, don’t just stand there! we gotta get our stuff before there’s nothing left!”

without another word you slip into the frenzy of people. jeno struggles to stay behind you. after almost losing sight of you a couple times, he walks a little faster to catch up and places his arm firmly around your waist once he does. you look up at him, your mask covering your slightly agape mouth.

being the gentleman he is, he apologizes. “sorry but i don’t want us to get separated.”

you can only nod and mumble, “good idea.”

jeno pushes the shopping cart with his right hand and holds your figure with his left. once in a while, you’ll break apart from each other to grab an item you need but once it’s in the cart, he’ll make sure you end up in the same position. after an hour or so, you’ve grabbed enough and you decide it’s time to pay.

despite the mask she has on, you can tell the middle-aged woman behind the cash register has a big smile on her face once she catches sight of you and your roommate.

“well, just look at you two.” she sighs. “how cute.”

“oh.” you glance at her then jeno then her again. “oh, no. it’s not like that.”

you attempt to move yourself away from jeno only to find his grip to be so incredibly strong that you almost begin to think he’s trying to hold you in place. once you finally detach yourself from him, you begin loading your groceries onto the counter for the employee to scan. she does so, but not before giving you a displeased look.

“oh really? he holds you like that because you aren’t together?”

jeno assists her in placing the scanned items in bags. “i didn’t want to lose her.”

she pauses scanning a can of tuna to stare him down. “darling, that sounds like a line from a cheesy hallmark rom-com.”

you can’t help but chuckle. “what he means is that there’s a lot of people here and we didn’t want to get separated.”

jeno adds, “desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

the woman adjusts her glasses. “well, you do certainly seem desperate to have her close to you.”

jeno doesn’t say a word as he continues bagging but his smile reaches his eyes.

5. he works out.

why did the pandemic have to hit in the middle of summer?

you often asked yourself this, complaining about how inconvenient it was. especially on the days that made your apartment feel like it was on fire. the days that required a thin tank top and shorts. even then, you found yourself to be drenched in sweat.

you sprawled your arms and legs farther on the sofa, the leather material proving to be very uncomfortable. it was either that or your bed with the warm cotton sheets that stuck to your body. just thinking about it brings you discomfort. the only relief you could think of was a cold shower. you would have already taken one if jeno hadn’t been hogging the one bathroom in the apartment.

“jeno!” you yell.

silence; other than the sound of the water running.

“lee jeno!”

the water stops, temporarily for him to shout back an answer. “what?!”

you wipe at the sweat that has accumulated on the bridge of your nose. “hurry up! i’m melting!”

the water starts back up again and you groan. hoping to distract yourself, you pull out your phone. the group chat with your friends is surprisingly silent so you go to instagram for some entertainment. this time, your ex-boyfriend’s post isn’t the first thing you see. it takes you some scrolling but you do end up seeing another one of his pictures.

it’s simply two intertwined hands with a black and white filter. you identify the one on the left as his and although you aren’t as familiar with the one on the right, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. contrary to the last, this photo has no cheesy words for a caption, just a red heart.

but, your stomach doesn’t drop. you don’t feel hurt, either. obviously, you still don’t enjoy seeing him just because of all the awful memories that came with it but other than that, you feel unaffected by the image.

in fact, you feel so confident in yourself that you block him.

you’re surprised you hadn’t done it sooner. you had known you didn’t need him in your life any longer so why keep in contact? you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you press the red button that would keep him and his girlfriend out of your life. you knew with your whole heart that you didn’t need to see either of them.

before, a bit if you had felt the need to keep an eye on him. to see how he was handling the breakup and torture yourself with the fact that he didn’t seem to care. now, you could say you truly didn’t either. you didn’t need him or his stupid pictures. you had other, better things.

your friends.

your cat (yes, you considered seol to be yours).

your roommate.

you had to admit, jeno was the best thing on that list. quarantine had brought you and him significantly closer and you were over the moon about it. he was so wonderful that you kicked yourself for having lived with him for so long without ever really getting to know him. but it was easy to say you two were making up for lost time seeing as you spent every waking moment together. the record long showers jeno took being an exception, of course.

the moment the door to the bathroom opens, you rush into your room and quickly grab an oversized t-shirt and loose pajama pants to change into after your shower. you nearly drop them when you’re met with jeno’s soaking figure in the hallway.

his hair is damp and you can clearly see how long it had become. his skin looks healthy and moisturized, lotion among other skin care products had probably been applied. what really has you in a shock is the fact that the towel barely hangs below his waist. the droplets of water that fall from his hair and down his neck trail down his chest and toned torso towards the only area he has bothered to cover up. his bulky arms are also slightly wet, his veins popping noticeably. he shakes his head in an attempt to rid his hair of any water. then he runs his fingers through it, his muscles flexing ever so slightly as he does so.

“dude!” you exclaim, without a second thought. “you’re ripped!”

he smiles, his round cheeks growing at the unexpected praise. the way he could have such a rugged body but soft-featured face puzzled you to no extent. “thank you. i lift sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you repeat. “don’t be so humble! you’re basically hercules!”

he clicks his tongue. “ah, c’mon. i’m just an athletic person.”

you keep admiring his physique. “clearly.”

“oh god,” he groans, obviously flustered. “you’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me or something.”

you hold yourself back from making a less than appropriate innuendo. “no comment.”

his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “quarantine is really making you go crazy.”

you point a finger at him. “you try being stuck inside with your hot roommate!”

“trust me, y/n, i know all about hot roommates.”

you tilt your head, acting purposefully oblivious. “are you talking about doyoung?”

“what? no i—“ he sighs. “you know what, just take your shower.”

6. you can’t say no to him.

jeno ruffles his black locks with his hand and frowns.

you give him a disappointed look. “knock it off, you’re gonna get dandruff in your soup.”

he ignores your comment. “i look like a hobo.”

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. “this i know.”

“y/n, this is serious!”

“okay, okay. what’s the issue?”

“i already told you! i’m a bum!”

“you? a bum?” you pause to think about it. “i mean, mentally? maybe. but physically? no.”

“my hair, though. it’s so long.” he grabs a strand of it and pulls it to emphasize his point.

you shrug. “if having lots of hair is the standard for being a bum, i think most of the population is.”

“i want to cut it,” he announces.

“you should,” you say, pointing your spoon at him. “wanna know why? because if you mess up, no one will ever know. other than me, of course. but if you pay me enough i’ll let you forget it.”

he smiles at the joke for a moment before he leans forward and his face goes serious. “will you help me?”

“what? no way. i’ll mess up. and it’s only funny if you do it.”

he pouts. “please?”

you stir your soup around. “just watch some youtube videos. after three, you’re automatically a professional.”

“i want you.”

the statement has your neck snapping up from your bowl to him. the smug grin on his face lets you know that he was well aware of the double meaning behind his words. it was clear he was trying to fluster you enough to get a yes.

“you think you’re flirty enough to straight up brainwash me into doing stuff?”

“well, i wanted to say that to you anyway but... kind of?”

you feel a smile creep onto your lips at hearing the genuine tone in his voice. you down your last few spoonfuls of soup and quickly stand up. jeno looks up at you, eyes hopeful.

“finish your dinner. get the scissors. meet me in the bathroom.”

not even ten minutes later, jeno practically dances into the bathroom, a pair of red craft scissors in his hand. he sits on top of the toilet lid, figuring that’d be the easiest way for you to reach him. you walk in moments later.

“i’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using these types of scissors for hair,” he mumbles as he hands you the sharp utensil.

you twirl them in your hand. “oh, definitely not. do you want to wait then?”

he shakes his head, his shaggy bangs swaying with the movement.

“alright, let’s get this going then.” you thread your hands through his thick locks to collect some of it in between two of your fingers. you bring the scissors forward and snip the small amount just to test the waters.

you slowly begin to get more comfortable and once you feel like you’re in your element, things begin to speed up. you move and cut faster but with efficiency. you do the spots on the back of his head and work your way forward. when it finally comes time to touch up his bangs, your small bathroom proves to be an inadequate spot to be doing this.

you end up standing balanced inches above jeno’s thighs that he’s pressed together tightly in an attempt to give you more room. you’re constantly readjusting your stance and when he notices, his hands go to your hips. you know he’s just trying to help you stay upright so you do a decent job but you still inhale sharply at the feeling of his hands on you.

not long after, you’re standing next to jeno as he inspects himself in the mirror. his fingers flick his newly shortened bangs around.

“not bad.” he tilts his head in a new angle and nods. “looks super good to me.”

you tuck the scissors into your back pocket with a relieved sigh. “oh thank god. i didn’t want to tell you before we started but i only watched two youtube tutorials on trimming hair.”

he runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “now that’s truly worthy of praise. and a tip.”

you raise a brow. “oh yeah? what’s th—“

he cuts you off by pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he pulls back and drags his thumb over the skin that has come into contact with his lips. “thanks again.” with that, he leaves you standing in the bathroom, eyes wide and face warm.

7. he has six best friends.

“can i borrow your laptop?” asks jeno, from outside your door, nearly breathless.

you look up from your book. “uh yeah, sure.”

he rushes in your room and takes the item off of your dresser. “do you happen to have zoom on it?”

you shake your head and he groans. without another word, he disappears, running off into the living room. you hear his frustrated sighs as the minutes pass and he attempts to download the application. you finally decide to go check it out once it becomes too much to bear.

“it sounds like you’re in pain over here,” you comment.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m supposed to meet with my friends through a zoom call but it’s so complicated.”

you put a hand on your hip. “bet you five bucks i’ll be able to get it in five minutes.”

“are you kidding? i might be technologically challenged but i’m not stupid. i know you can do it fast, just help me out already, would you?”

“alright, grandpa.”

you type and click away at the screen, jeno watching you do so, entranced but equally as lost.

“well, i was wrong,” you say after a couple moments, leaning back in your chair.

“you couldn’t get it?” asks jeno, worriedly.

“no, it’s not that.” you click something on the screen and the app opens. “turns out i could do it in three.”

he rolls his eyes and shoos you out of the chair. he sits down and enters the code and password for the zoom meeting. it takes a minute, but he finally connects. you count six other people in the call. they all immediately cheer at seeing jeno and you hear them excitedly exclaim his name.

“hey guys,” he says, a smile already reaching his eyes. “it’s so good to see your faces.”

they all nod to agree. you get a good look at each one of them and realize they’re all boys. your eyes read over each of their display names.

mark me in ur heart

hyuckie~~~

moomin enthusiast

nananananana

chnele

lil huddy

“nice name, jeno,” ‘moomin enthusiast’ guy comments, snickering slightly. “glad to see you finally came to terms with it.”

‘jenojam’, his name reads. the rest of the group laughs, also teasing him about it. you assume it’s some kind of inside joke.

the self proclaimed ‘lil huddy’ furrows his eyebrows. “wait, did you choose that name yourself?”

jeno simply nods in response.

he glares into the camera. “donghyuck, you told me i had to put this as my name or else it wouldn’t let me connect!”

donghyuck—or ‘hyuckie~~~’, you presume—shrugs. “oops. guess i was wrong.”

you laugh at the humorous exchange. it seems like the sound has drawn some attention to you when ‘nananananana’ speaks up, eyes trained on you.

“um jeno? don’t you want to introduce your guest?”

jeno beams, dragging you closer into the frame. “i’m sure you all know about my roommate. say hi, y/n.”

you do so, waving and smiling politely at the group.

“you know, even though we used to always hang at jeno’s, i don’t think we’ve ever actually seen your face,” ‘chnele’ says, tilting his head.

you agree. “me neither. i’ve mostly just heard you guys.”

the ‘mark me in your heart’ boy sheepishly rubs his neck. “sorry. we tend to be a little loud.”

‘chnele’ lets out a high pitched screech of a laugh. “only a little?”

“i recognize that laugh!” you blurt. “i would hear it all the time!”

”that’s our little dolphin,” coos ‘hyuckie~~~’.

“oh god, stop. i hate that stupid nickname.”

“it’s well deserved.”

“i think you should apologize to y/n for being a nightmare to her eardrums.”

“and ours, for that matter.”

“what about all your little freestyles? i’ve had to sit through hundreds of them and i never got an apology!”

“because they’re not bad! could you do any better?”

“you’re a soundcloud rapper, i think anyone could.”

jeno turns to you as the bickering on screen gets louder and louder. “this is gonna be a long call.”

once the group has moved on from roasting the life out of each other, you’re able to engage in some good-natured conversation. jeno teaches you the names and the other basics about the group. some points that stand out about the group is that mark is the oldest, renjun specializes in contemporary dance, jaemin inhales six cups of coffee on the daily, and chenle is insanely rich.

“what about jeno?” you ask them. “anything i should know about him?”

“he’s allergic to cats but the idiot still adopted—“

“she already knows about that, renjun,” jeno chuckles.

“oh. well. that’s pretty much the only interesting thing about him.”

jisung pipes up. “oh wait! he works out religiously too!”

you and jeno share a look. you burst into laughter and he simply glances away, slightly embarrassed. “oh yeah, i know that all too well.”

“and what about the unhealthy cooking obsession?”

you nod at mark’s question. “that too. he cooks dinner almost every night around here.”

renjun purses his lips. “he already cooks for you? wow. he must really like you.”

“you think?” jaemin asks. “didn’t you read any of the messages in the group chat? he’s practically in love with her. his words, not mi—“

“okay! i think it’s time for us to go! bye guys!” jeno doesn’t even give you a chance to say your own goodbye before he’s clicking the ‘end call’ button in the bottom right corner.

you give him a confused look. “what was that all about?”

“they’re crazy.” he laughs. “well, if you need me i’ll be in my room screaming into my pillow for the next couple hours.” he dashes off leaving you standing alone, trying to comprehend what had happened.

8. he‘s a great listener.

jeno has officially replaced seol as your movie buddy, not that you have a problem with it. you thought it was nice to have someone you could actually converse with but of course, you make sure seol still sits in.

“what i’m saying is that iron man just wants to protect his team.”

“well, if they sign the accords, they basically surrender themselves to the government.”

“and?”

“you don’t see a problem with that? see, captain america knows what he’s doing. he’s literally an avenger—“

“so is iron man!”

“let me finish! so, he’s an avenger, right? he has the best judgment because he’s saved the world countless times. he knows how to operate his team and do the right thing.”

“okay but there’s casualties. and that’s what iron man is trying to fix.”

“how do you save the world and not have casualties?”

“you just—“ your phone rings mid argument and you raise your finger towards jeno. “this isn’t over.” you put the phone to your ear, not bothering to check the caller id. “hello?”

“sweetheart?”

you feel a chill go up your spine. was it him? no, it couldn’t be. you had blocked his number shortly after you did so on all your social media.

“baby, don’t be so shy. i know you’re there.”

you can’t hold back. “please don’t call me that.”

he chuckles, breathlessly. “oh, c’mon. you used to love it. you still do.”

“no, i don’t. actually, i don’t want to hear your stupid pet names or stupid voice or see any of your stupid posts. just go bother your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

you notice jeno perk up beside you out of the corner of your eye. he must have been caught off guard by your irritated tone.

as always, lucas is unaffected by you. “i’m being nice and giving you a second chance. i even called you behind soyeon’s back.”

“is that something i’m supposed to reward you for?” you scoff. “congratulations, you’re now awful, toxic, and a cheater.”

he growls. the sound was familiar. in your relationship, if you heard it you knew he was going to snap at you until he had the satisfaction of making you cry. “i know you miss me so don’t say things you’re going to regret later. because even when you’re back in my arms, i won’t let you forget it.”

the thought of being back with him made you feel icky. but the fact that he sincerely thought you would crawl back to him set your entire body on fire. “are you joking? i was always aware of the fact that you treated me like the dirt you walked on but do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

you’re rendered speechless and apparently, so is he because the other line stays silent.

“i wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last person on earth,” you spit. “you treated me horribly, wong yukhei. i won’t ever forget it. move on. i have.”

you glance at jeno, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on your cellphone. the glare he gives the device is so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if even lucas could feel it, wherever he was.

you hang up and block the number, wishing to never talk to him again. you toss your phone onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. you find jeno’s gaze to still be focused intensely on it.

“if you gave lucas that look, i’m pretty sure he’d cry.”

he breaks his concentration, eyes going to you instead. his entire face softens. “all i’m going to say is he better pray we never cross paths.”

“well, if you happen to, call me up. i wouldn’t mind helping you beat the crap out of him.”

jeno chuckles for a second then lowers his voice to a whisper. “he was really bad to you, huh?”

you nod. “he messed me up. i hate to admit it ‘cause i know i was stupid to stay with him for as long as i did.”

your roommate shakes his head. “don’t say that. it’s not your fault he messed up the best thing that would ever happen to him.”

“i thought i was the problem for so long, jeno. i was so blinded by love. then, i realized there was no way he truly cared for me when he treated me like i had no heart to be broken.”

jeno scoots towards you and rubs soothing circles into your arm. “you have such a big heart. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am that he took advantage of that. i’m sorry that you were stuck with someone so insecure and ignorant. please, don’t think about him anymore.”

you hold in your tears. you refused to cry over someone like lucas. “i know. i try so hard not to.”

jeno holds your head into his chest. his arms are placed securely on your back. “oh, baby.”

when jeno uses this pet name on you, it feels so completely different from lucas. you could tell me meant it. he wasn’t using it to make you stay a little longer, to assure you he loved you. strangely enough, you do not need to be convinced of that. you feel like you have known it for a long time.

9. he likes to be the big spoon.

you’re not sure how he’s done it but you end up falling asleep in jeno’s arms. you assume it had been so long since you had been cradled and rocked so delicately that the foreign yet extremely delightful sensation knocked you right out. even seol is deep in sleep, laying down peacefully at your feet.

you relish in the feeling of jeno pressed right into your back. he fits so perfectly against you that it reminds you of a puzzle piece. to be exact, the moment when you connect the last two pieces and the full picture becomes complete. that was how you felt—complete.

with jeno’s soft breaths tickling the back of your neck and his soft snores filling your ear, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. his arm that is wrapped around you makes sure you can’t escape his embrace. you are positive that even if you had the liberty of doing so, you would stay exactly where you were.

you lean farther back into your pillow, closing your eyes. you let every thought fade away as you try to fall back asleep as soon as possible. you wanted the moment you found yourself in to last as long as possible.

10. he has feelings for you.

jeno mumbles sweet nothings into your ear as he toys with your hair.

it just seemed right to him. like something he was meant to do with you. he had seen these types of things in films and shows before. it was intimate and touching, the scenes were always meant to tug at the audience’s heart strings and show how in love the two characters were. perhaps, even though you lay asleep in his arms, he wants you to finally know.

“honestly, being inside with you all the time is kind of the best. i know the whole virus situation is less than ideal but being able to spend so much time with you... that’s all i could ask for.” he pauses. “isn’t it so crazy how before this we were all weird and awkward around each other? well, i guess we still kind of are. that’s mostly my fault so... sorry. i just don’t know how to act around you sometimes. we’re barely getting close and i’m already this attached to you. as jisung would so kindly say, ‘i’m simping’.” he chuckles to himself. “all jokes aside, i really do like you. ever since you moved in here all cute and nervous, you’ve taken your own little place in my heart, as cheesy as it sounds. and these past few weeks, you just keep on taking up more and more room in there. not that i have a problem with it. i just...” he stops as if he doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. “really, really like you.”

“thanks.”

you feel him jolt then abruptly stop stroking your hair. there’s silence until he asks, “you don’t happen to be a sleep talker, do you?”

you shake your head.

“and did you hear like, a lot of what i said?”

“only the important stuff. like how awkward you are and how much you like me.”

“o-oh.”

“but don’t worry. it’s mutual.”

you feel his relieved breath hit the skin of your neck. “that’s the best thing i’ve heard all day.”

you tilt your head back and stare at him, confused. “what, did you seriously think i wasn’t into you?”

he shrugs. “i was too busy simping, i guess.”

you can’t contain your laughter at the use of the slang. “park jisung would not be proud.”

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hammeredalcoholic · 3 years

Text

im so sorry

killer queen/reader ; NSFW/18+

i literally had a dream about this and my mind would not shut up until i wrote it im sorry, this is so self indulgent

“Killer Queen,” The words drifted from your lips, barely above a whisper. The Stand in question was quite literally sprawled on top of you, its hands playfully toying with your hair. You placed a hand on its head, softly scratching the spots behind its ears.

This isn’t the first time that Queen has done this to you. It was quite frequent, being that every time Kira let his guard down at home, his Stand would immediately latch onto you.

It was cute.

It made you feel so loved, knowing that Killer Queen was essentially your husband’s soul, only more cat-like and emotional. Yoshikage wasn’t the most clingy person in the world, but the fact that his stand decided to cuddle up with you said practically everything.

Plus, Kira was a busy man. He liked to keep up his routine, and sometimes, spending quality time with you wasn’t quite possible. It’s not that it mattered much though, he was certainly doing his best, and that’s what counted in your eyes.

Killer Queen let out a purr, its hands moving away from your hair and towards your chest. Sometimes, Queen would fall asleep against your chest, meaning that Yoshikage was most likely dozing off wherever he was in the house. It always managed to warm your heart.

But tonight was different.

It was a subtle difference in how Queen was acting-- its eyes blown out and wide, curious. Its hands were no different, moving slowly down to your chest, watching as they ran over your breasts, softly kneading the material of your shirt.

Killer Queen hadn’t done this before, despite being very touchy-feely with you. The stray gasp that left your lips caused the Stand to stop, its eyes quickly going to your face. It watched you silently, their hands still sitting on your chest.

Your cheeks felt incredibly hot.

Why was Queen doing this?

And why was it bringing out such a reaction from you?

It’s not like you were touch starved or anything. Kira was a good husband, he took care of the many-- uh, needs that you had. But, if you were thinking clearly, it had been a week or so since you last had the chance to get your husband alone.

Yoshikage had been working more overtime lately, as well as bringing home some paperwork to do.

Would it be so bad to indulge in this?

Killer Queen was technically your husband’s soul, after all.

In the time you were thinking, Killer Queen was studying every slight movement of your body. When you finally came to the conclusion that you could enjoy this, you relaxed back into the couch. Another tranquil purr was heard, followed by gentle gropes of your chest.

Being slightly curious yourself, you let your hands slide up the Stand’s thighs, feeling the almost velvet like skin. The shiver that racked Killer Queen’s body surprised you, their eyes sliding shut momentarily.

That’s when you remembered.

Kira can feel whatever happens to Queen. Kira can also feel anything that Queen touches.

Did that mean your husband had been feeling you up this whole time?

The thought alone was enough to make your thighs clench together. Killer Queen’s hands trailed lower, moving to slip under your shirt. Its hands traced your exposed skin, sharp claws scraping against your flesh.

God, you could get used to this.

Their hands quickly found your bra, then stopped. Its bright pink eyes sparkled with curiosity, before practically ripping the material of your shirt in half.

“Queen!” You gasped, your hands gripping their thighs with fever. As soon as your bra was exposed, the curiosity in its eyes was back. A single clawed digit ran across the underwire, playing with the small lace bow that was stitched between the cups.

Your face quickly heated up again, watching as the Stand played with it, before dipping a claw under the material. Within moments, the article was ripped in half, falling loose on your chest. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, before looking up Queen.

Its soft pink eyes dragged across your breasts, almost studying them. Soon enough, it’s gloved hands were groping your skin, with the gentlest touch. You quickly bit your lip to quiet a moan, the flesh of their fingertips felt delicious.

Your fingers gracefully felt their way up the Stand’s thighs once more, touching softly along the ridges in its skin. You briefly wondered if a Stand could even have genitals. It seemed rather nonsensical, they were only a figment of a person’s soul-- but you still wondered.

You let your eyes run over the being on top of you, their bright pink eyes still focused on your chest. Despite the obvious cat ears on it’s head, Killer Queen was built like a human. A wide chest and toned abs, chiseled arms and legs-- oh.

It seemed like you had gotten your answer.

Between the Stand’s legs, almost obscured by the belt it wore around their hips was its cock. It definitely wasn’t human, ridges lining the shaft and small bumps lining the tip. It was also decently bigger than your husband’s, from what you could tell.

Killer Queen must have noticed your attention on it, as their hips pushed down and rocked against your pelvis. You didn’t even realize how worked up you had gotten until a harsh moan was ripped from your throat, your pulse practically thumping in your ears. They continued their motions, hands moving from your breasts down to your hips, claws digging into the flesh just slightly.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but open your legs, letting Queen have more access. It felt so good, pressing up against your clothed core deliciously. Before it resumed grinding against you, one of their hands quickly unclasped the belt, letting it fall to the couch with a dull thud.

You didn’t know how much longer you could last.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait.

Killer Queen’s claws gripped the waistband of your pants, almost tearing them right off your body. With minor adjustments, you managed to slip out of them, leaving yourself completely naked in front of them.

“Killer Queen,” You barely breathed, your hands moving to grasp at their shoulders.

You could feel your arousal practically dripping onto the couch, their eyes watching you like a hawk. Within moments your position was moved, Killer Queen flipping you onto your stomach. Their claws slowly traced your back, down to your ass, before pulling your legs apart.

Arching your back just slightly, you tried hard not to let your excitement show, but when the tip of Queen’s cock teased your entrance, it was hard not to be impatient. You gasped at the feeling, the feel of its skin completely different and alien to you.

Killer Queen’s hips leaned forward just slightly, pressing against your hole. One of their hands smoothed its way up your back, tangling in your hair and pressing your face into the cushion. Without even a second passing, Queen pressed into you, sliding it’s cock between your folds with extreme precision.

It felt like heaven.

Gasps fell from your lips, only to be muffled by the couch. The small bumps and ridges felt amazing, rubbing up against your walls and pressing into all your sweet spots. They were stretching you, and a spike of pleasure ran up your spine from the burn.

You briefly wondered what Yoshikage was feeling.

With a firm thrust from Killer Queen’s hips, that train of thought easily fell off the rails.

The Stand didn’t wait more than a minute for you to adjust, pulling out their cock and slamming back in with rushed fever. You quickly planted your foot on the floor, desperately trying to meet their thrusts.

Killer Queen’s hands moved to the couch cushion, its claws digging into the material. You couldn’t hold back your voice, letting out harsh whines with every snap of the Stand’s hips.

You’ve used some odd toys before, but nothing has ever felt like this.

“God, fuck, Queen…!” You almost screamed, their cock easily hitting your g-spot. With your loud whimpers and cries they continued to hit it mercilessly, digging its claws deeper into the cushion. You felt a familiar tingle in your abdomen, like a burning coil tightening, ready to burst at any moment.

Yoshikage has never managed to make you cum like this.

With another harsh thrust, your vision went white. Your orgasm hit hard, rushing over your body like a wave. Your legs shook under you, high pitched moans leaving your lips.

You clenched hard around Killer Queen, and with a few more hurried thrusts, you felt something warm spread inside you. Did they actually cum inside you? How was that possible?

Not having the energy to question any further, you let your body relax against the couch. Queen pulled out of you gently, its claws moving to softly run down your back.

Hurried footsteps were heard from the hall, and you turned your head towards the door.

Kira quickly came to the doorway, looking completely and utterly fucked. His pants were unbuckled, something staining the lavender fabric. Tie discarded and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.

His cheeks were painted pink, and blond hair tousled and sweaty.

“I--” He started, this voice shaking and uneven.

“I didn’t know that was possible.” You said, your body and mind too exhausted to really comprehend anything. Your husband’s eyes widened, before he ran a hand through his curls.

“I didn’t either.”

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batfamspews · 3 years

Text

Red Robin and Jason have been battling each other in an abandoned building for the past fifteen minutes and the fight ended with Jason victorious and Tim flat on his back on the ground. Both of them are bleeding and have several internal wounds.

Jason: *going to jump out of a nearby window* It’s been fun, replacement! Though I have to admit, I think you’re getting a little rusty. You used to be so strategic, but now you’re just pure chaos. I like the change but it makes you pretty easy to beat. Probably should start thinking things through again.

Tim: *deadpan, unflinching, staring at the ceiling*

Jason: *Confused because just a couple of seconds ago Tim was bustling with squirrel-like energy* Hey man, you good?

Tim: Yeah man just rethinking my life.

Jason: Ah. *goes to jump out the window but then hesitates and looks back at Tim. Not a single muscle in his body has flinched. Jason figures he had better stick around and keep an eye on him since he’s pretty sure he heard bones breaking during their fight and he wants to make sure he didn’t paralyze or give Tim brain damage.* You wanna talk about it? *goes and sits down next to Tim*

Tim: Eh, life sucks, you know? Fight all night, work all day, study. I’m supposed to be the smart one, right? What if I can’t keep up? What if I crack and lose it? What if someone smarter comes along? Besides, I can’t help but feel like I’m just ticking every one off.

Jason: *surprised but slightly amused that his straight-rod, genius brother would have such a poor opinion of himself* Heeeey, come on, little Red! You don’t suck that much! I mean, I do get sick and tired of your virtuous crap every once and a while, hence me beating you to a bloody pulp right now, but you’ve got a good head and heart! What’s making you feel so down?

Tim: …

Tim: Tried to make supper the other night. Alfred got food poisoning. He’s still in the hospital.

Jason: So you’re guilty?

Tim: *smiles* Yes but that’s just a part of it. I’m in charge of making my own food now, but since I’m scared that I’ll poison myself I’ve only been drinking a concoction I made up a while ago that I know won’t kill me.

Jason: Yeah? What?

Tim: Iced coffee made with Red Bull instead of water.

Jason: …

Jason: ……. .. . …

Jason: That sounds disgusting

Tim: It absolutely is.

Jason: How long has this been going on?

Tim: About a week?

Jason: ??? And that’s all you’ve had?

Tim: I mean, I ate some Nachos last night and I have an emergency stash of pop tarts in my room that I finished off the first two days.

Jason: ???????

Jason: AND YOU DONT EAT OUT WHY???

Tim: *shrugs* The Red Bull iced coffee gives me energy. Kinda sucks though because I crash when it wares off and have another identity crisis. I should really get some more before the tremors.

Jason: CHRIST TIMOTHY I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SMART???

Tim: You know, there’s a line between intelligence and wisdom- oh crap here they come. Totally jinxed myself.

*Jason stares in disbelief as Tim’s whole body starts shaking. He start to say something but Tim- doubled over in pain- holds up a hand to make him wait. The tremors stop after a few seconds.*

Tim: I should probably grab some more coffee or something before that happens again. You wouldn’t happen to have an energy drink on you, wouldja? I’d get some myself, but I’m pretty sure you broke something in my leg and it hurts to move it.

Jason: For the love of God, Tim, you need professional help. Call Bruce to come pick you up???

Tim: I don’t really feel like talking to Bruce right now. I don’t want to get lectured again.

Jason: …

Jason: Fair enough, but I’m not leaving you here like this. I may not be an exceptional brother or anything but I’m pretty sure it would be considered child abuse if I let you torture yourself this way.

Tim: *laughs* you just broke my bones and beat me into submission.

Jason: you were being annoying.

Tim: And besides, Bruce doesn’t stop me.

Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR ONE SECOND THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU PUT ME ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THAT MAN THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG. *Basically picks Tim up*

Tim: ??? Where are we going?

Jason: TO MY APARTMENT SO YOU CAN GET THE PROFESSIONAL CARE THAT YOU REALLY NEED.

Tim: Bruce is gonna be ticked. I’ve still got another hour on patrol.

Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR A SINGLE GOSHDANG MOMENT THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU STAY OUT HERE WITH A BROKEN BONE AND CAFFEINE-INDUCED SEIZURES THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG!

Tim: I don’t wanna tell him that-

Jason: GOOD BECAUSE I DO. HOLY COW, TIM, ARE THE OTHERS AS BAD OFF AS YOU ARE?

Tim: I mean? Dick’s been out of town so I’m gonna assume he’s doing fine. The Kents have invited Damian’s vegan butt into their household until Alfred recovers. Pretty sure Babs, Steph and Cass are surviving on hot pockets and chicken nuggets.

Jason: NOT MY GOOD GOOD GIRLS! That’s it, you’re coming home with me and are not leaving until you are fully recovered. I’m gonna call the girls too. Tonight you four are going to have a round, home cooked meal. *carries him down the stairs* Geez, kid, you’re skin and bones. On no accounts should you be this light. And you look like a zombie! Is this just the malnutrition, or are you not sleeping either?

Tim: I mean, I’ve passed out a couple of times…

Jason: TIMOTHY DRAKE WAINE

Tim: The caffeine made sleeping virtually impossible, though now that it’s wearing off I do feel a bit drowsy…

Jason: Normally I would not give an idiot like you the permission to rest while I’m helping them out but for the love of everything that is holy, Timothy, go to sleep!

Tim: Dope. *immediately passes out*

Jason brings Tim to his apartment and puts him on the couch. Jason already has a nutritious vegetable and beef stir fry ready for the girls when they arrive. He’s also made broth that Cass spoon-feeds Tim when he wakes up shaking. They’ve all turned off their coms, so when Batman desperately calls Red-Hood’s home phone for help, Jason tells him what a horrible father he’s been lately and that even a problem child like himself would make a better parent. Cass, Steph and Babs leave after supper, but have agreed with Jason to eat lunch and supper at his place until Alfred got back. Jason called Nightwing up, told him the situation and asked him to come back to Gotham to deal with Bruce. The next morning Jason brought Tim to the hospital to get an X-ray done on his leg. When they found out it was fractured, Jason arranged for a very exhausted but thankful Tim to stay at his apartment until it healed, even when Alfred recovered. During that period he was able to break Tim’s eating habits and introduce him to healthier options. According to Jason, “I might be a ‘danger to society’ and a ‘homicidal maniac,’ but at least I can make a half decent home cooked meal for my poor starving siblings!”

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